I discussed the purpose and construction of a makiwara in a previous post. The platform type that I built last time is good if you want to have a self-contained version of the traditional style that you can move from one room to another or take outside, rather than having it buried in the ground or attached to the floor of the dojo. However, it’s heavy and is at best only semi-portable.
So, I decided that I would also make a smaller type of makiwara that can be mounted on the wall. Of course, you can buy small, wall-mounted makiwara that consist of a leather pad on a piece of wood, which in turn sits on top of a foam cushion inside a metal bracket. We have one of these in the dojo, and it seems to work well. It would be easily portable based on its size, but I am not sure how simple it is to mount/unmount it.
As you may have guessed, the fun part for me is to make my own equipment using materials that are readily available. So, with that in mind, here is the second type of makiwara that I have built. This one makes use of an old car tire and is truly portable.
The first step is to get an old tire. Tire shops and auto mechanics are good places to try, especially because you will probably be able to select the size that you want. In all likelihood, they will let you have a tire or two for free since they will just be recycled anyway. In my case, I had access to a large pile of tires that some jerk had dumped next to a walking trail near where I live. I spent a Sunday morning hauling them all out of the brush and am planning to dispose of them properly. In the meantime, I have lots of tires to choose from for this sort of project.
Anyway, once you have the tire, it is a good idea to wrap it in tape because, well, tires are dirty. I chose to use hockey tape but duct tape would work fine as well.
Just to make it interesting, I made a little pattern with black and white tape. I actually decided to make two of these at the same time, using two different tire sizes. One was a standard car tire and the other looked like a trailer tire.
Once the tire is wrapped in tape, cut it down the middle all around the inside, and then stick it to the inside walls of the tire. Basically, the flexing of the rubber is what will provide the cushioning for the strikes, so it’s better to have the two walls of the tire free to give and rebound properly.
The next part that you need is a piece of hardwood and some material for making the striking target. It so happened that we have a box of hardwood flooring planks left over from some renovations that we did several years ago, so I just used small pieces of this wood.
For the striking target, I used two types of foam: the black foam flooring that I used when making the breaking board holder, and the grey camping foam that I used in the heavy bag arm project. I simply taped these to the board and wrapped them with hockey tape. This made for a nice pad for striking.
Then it was time to add the leather. I picked up a well used leather jacket from Value Village for about $10, which provided enough leather for lots of these covers. Just to make it seem more authentic, I attached the leather by tying it on the back. You could just as easily tape it on.
Once completed, I drilled four holes into the wood and through the tire, and bolted the boards on to the tires. I used lock nuts and included a washer on top of the wood and another one underneath between the nut and the rubber. I also drilled a hole in the top of the tire and attached an eye bolt (again, with two washers). I mounted the makiwara on the wall by hanging it from an eye bolt and ring that was screwed into a piece of wood attached to the wall and was aligned with a stud. Note that the walls in my garage are wood, not drywall, so you will need to take this into account if you want to mount one of these somewhere in your house. I assume no responsibility for any damage that you do to yourself or your walls!
I also added an eye bolt to the bottom of the smaller tire and attached the larger one to it. Here is the finished product:
This is very cool because it provides two different targets, one at about head height and one around stomach height. It’s fun to throw combinations at the two targets, like you might do on a heavy bag — but with the benefit of the progressive resistance that you get with a makiwara. The makiwara generally doesn’t swing from side to side unless you give it a push (which can be interesting as well).
The double makiwara is part of the home dojo I am building in my garage, and is conveniently located near my heavy bag. This allows me to practice combinations on multiple opponents. Because they are attached by clips, the makiwara can be used together or one at a time, and the height can be adjusted easily by using a chain. They can also be removed easily and replaced with other pieces of equipment that can hang from the eye bolt. For example, I have since attached a chain to my breaking board holder so that it can now be hung in place of the makiwara if I want a different sort of target to hit. It’s a quick-change system for punching targets!
Overall, I am very happy with this makiwara. It was pretty easy to make and it cost almost nothing (just some tape, foam, old leather, and bolts). I think it looks good on the wall as well. The ability to quickly change it for other pieces of equipment or to adjust the height is excellent. And it provides a great use for an old tire.
The idea for making this type of makiwara came from a couple of sources, including the videos here and here, and The Art of Hojo Undo by Michael Clarke. This is my own take on the design (one of the others is hand-held whereas another is screwed directly to the wall — plus mine has double targets).
A makiwara is traditional Okinawan training tool used for developing proper striking technique and power. It serves a similar purpose as a heavy bag, but differs in that it consists of a stationary post rather than a swinging bag. A heavy bag swings backward when punched, which means that the highest amount of resistance is encountered on first impact before the bag starts to move. By contrast, when a makiwara is punched it causes the board to flex such that the resistance pushing back against the fist increases the farther it bends. This provides feedback on proper technique (a bad punch will simply bounce back) and helps to develop power because it requires the transfer of force deeper into the punch than is needed to move a heavy bag.
The term makiwara literally means “wrapped straw”, which refers to the traditional practice of making the striking target out of straw rope. Traditional makiwara are often anchored by burying the bottom end of the board into the ground outisde, but this is not particularly convenient in a climate with cold winters. There are also several styles of makiwara that can be installed inside a dojo, usually by bolting to the floor or the wall.
There are also some makiwara designs that are more portable, and one of these is what I decided to make first. (I’ll talk about some other styles later). The one I made is what I would call “semi-portable”, in that it can be moved from one room to another or taken outside, but it isn’t something you would transport from home to the dojo. There are versions of this style that can be taken apart for storage, but this one is permanently assembled and, in my case, will be stationed in my home dojo in the garage.
The idea behind this type of makiwara is that the striking post is affixed to a raised platform, with the user’s weight holding the platform down as the post is struck. The materials required are straightforward and are available at any hardware store:
Plywood sheet (4′ x 3′)
2″ x 4″ boards for raising the platform and reinforcing the post
4″ x 4″ post
Post bracket
Misc. nuts, bolts, and screws
A striking surface
The first step was to cut the 4″ x 4″ post so that it is tapered (thick at the bottom, thin at the top). I based the cut on this article, with the top about 1″ thick and the bottom of the taper 3″ thick, plus another several inches of the full 4″ x 4″ width to place in the post bracket. I used a 4″ x 4″ post and bracket in large part because I already had these lying around. There are other styles that use a 2″ plank and a different style of bracket.
(Note: you can click on any image for a larger view)
I made the cut using a circular saw. This involved drawing the line of the cut, then cutting one side, flipping the post over, and cutting the other side. There was a little bit of chiselling to get the two halves apart, but then I had two pieces with the correct taper (i.e., enough to make two makiwara). The cut was somewhat rough, so a little hand planing was required to smooth it out. Note that the cut side will be the back of the post. In my case, the post is more or less vertical, but some styles of makiwara, especially ones using thinner planks, that are angled slightly forward toward the user to add more resistance; this isn’t so important with such a thick post.
Meanwhile, I had also cut the plywood sheet into a 3′ x 4′ platform using a table saw. I then cut four 3′ lengths of 2″ x 4″ board and glued and screwed them to the bottom to raise the platform slightly.
The bracket was mounted using bolts down through the platform, plus some screws up through the bottom of the platform into the post inside the bracket. I also reinforced the front of the bracket using another piece of metal, as shown in the photo below.
I also reinforced the front of the bracket using another piece of metal, as shown in the photo below. It’s bolted to the platform along with the bracket, and also screwed into the post through the bracket.
In addition, I reinforced both the front and back of the post using angled 2″ x 4″ pieces.
The final step was to add the striking surface. There are plenty of options for this, from the traditional straw rope or a modern equivalent, to a garden kneeling pad, to some foam and a piece of leather. The main criterion is that it provide enough padding that you will not injure your hands or feet but not so much that it absorbs all the force of the strike without allowing the board to flex. The point of the makiwara is NOT condition your knuckles by beating the heck out of them. Yes, you see traditional martial artists with huge callouses from using the makiwara, but this is a byproduct rather than the main purpose of training on a makiwara with a striking surface made of rope.
I intend to use the makiwara for improving technique and increasing power in my strikes (rather than impressing girls) and I don’t really want my hands to look abnormal, so more padding is good as far as I am concerned.
It so happened that I had my old sparring gear, which was in rather bad shape after being put through the wash, which fit quite nicely around the post. In traditional hoju undō (supplementary physical training), you use whatever you have access to, so I think this fits well with the spirit of the original makiwara.
If the plywood ends up being uncomfortable (assuming I use it with bare feet), I may add a little padding to the top. Otherwise, this makiwara seems to work pretty well and it’s nice to be able to use it either indoors or outside according to weather.
As I noted, there are many different designs for makiwara, so go ahead and explore online to find one that would work for you.
I mentioned in a previous post that there is symbolism surrounding the direction of the knot on one’s belt: either “an arrow pointing toward the heart” or the opposite way as “opening toward the heart”. We also sew our crests on the left side of the gi so that they will be over the heart. This sort of tradition is not unique to the martial arts, of course.
One problem. The heart is not located on the left side of the chest. It is located in the centre of the chest, in a protective sac called the pericardium, behind the sternum, and in between the two lungs.
It is not perfectly symmetrical in shape, such that part of the heart does protrude into the left side of the chest cavity. Moreover, the left ventricle is the most powerful region of the heart (it must pump blood to the entire body). The net effect is that the heartbeat is perceived to occur on the left side of the body even though only a portion of the heart is (slightly) left of centre.
In terms of symbolism, I think it’s fine to go with traditional folk anatomy — even though the actual position of the heart has been known for a very long time.
A diagram showing the position of the heart, from the 1918 edition of Gray's Anatomy.
However, I think it’s important to be clear on real anatomy if one is practising attacks intended to affect particular organs or, conversely and more importantly, if one is trying to be careful to avoid doing damage to that organ. In other words, don’t punch someone in the middle of the chest and think that you’re doing them a favour.
While browsing the shelves at a local bookstore, I came across an interesting book entitled Kata Bunkai: The Secret Karate Techniques, by Helmut Kogel. Now, I am not big on the notion of “secret techniques”, but given the content of the book, I think this might be a translation artifact (from German) more than a claim to be taken at face value.
Although the book emphasizes concepts of the body as used in eastern martial arts and acupuncture, it is really about connecting these to a modern understanding of anatomy and physiology. This provides a very interesting juxtaposition, as I think it is important to see the body the way the early developers of martial arts saw it in order to understand their intents and biases, but also to put the techniques into a reliable anatomical context. There are lots of books that do something along these lines, pointing out what nerve/blood vessel/muscle/tendon/bone you’re targeting, but what I find particularly intriguing is the way this is presented by Kogel. What he has done is smoothly superimpose anatomical drawings (which look like they could be right out of Gray’s Anatomy) onto actual photos of opponents’ arms, legs, torsos, and heads. It’s a cool effect.
At first I was a little confused by the designations "Gb 20" and "St 9", which refer to "Gall bladder 20" and "Stomach 9". You know, because neither of these organs is located in the neck. These refer to the traditional "meridian" lines from acupuncture.
If I ever write a book on the science of martial arts, I think I will incorporate some imagery inspired by this approach.
Given that Miller’s focus is on what works and what doesn’t in real combat, you may find it surprising to read his thoughts on basics and kata as methods of training. Certainly, there are many (mostly junior) students of karate who feel that walking basics or kata are done primailry for historical reasons, whereas sparring (kumite) is the “real deal” when it comes to training to fight. Interestingly, Sgt. Miller’s take is the opposite.
As he wrote in Meditations on Violence (p.111),
Because they are dynamic and because we know that fights are dynamic, there is a tendency to use sparring as a reality check. Since most people have learned about physical conflict by watching entertaining shows (whether professional sports, movies, or “reality TV,” it is entertainment), or from class, and since sparring looks more like this image than, say, basics or line drills, they intuitively believe it is more “real.” It isn’t. A real fight for your life is NOTHING like sparring.
What about walking basics? Here is Sgt. Miller again (p.108):
Properly trained, static drills can be very good for picking up the skills of violence. By removing the opponent, you can strike with full power, speed, intent, and savagery. These drills, unlike others, do not create bad habits, provided the instructor knows what he is teaching. Properly trained, the student can perform any action correctly — but the absence of chaos during practice often leads to the student freezing when presented with chaos.
Miller is clearly not arguing that basics are sufficient for learning how to fight. However, he is saying that sparring is not the way to make up the difference and in fact that sparring will be counterproductive in this regard. Kumite is not chaos either.
Miller’s own martial arts training is mostly in Jujutsu, but he makes some very important points about kata that are applicable to many martial arts (p. 114-115):
Kata as a training method
First, there are two distinct types of kata in the Japanese tradition. Most martial arts are familiar with the solo kata of Karate. In these kata, the kareteka goes through a series of predetermined moves. Two-man kata are common in the older styles of Japanese martial arts [note: I would include renzoku kumite and kakomi kumite in this category – RG]. In these, two practitioners act on each other in a scripted fashion. [There are] inherent flaws in scripted drills, but these training methods did not survive for hundreds of years because they sucked. Here, I want to point out some of the advantages.
Solo kata. Understand that I have only dabbled in Karate, though my wife is a practitioner.
Occasionally, I would have an encounter, often an intense one, and later see the action in my wife’s Karate kata. One time, I was the only officer on the booking floor on a night shift. I heard a sound coming from one of our group holding rooms and I slid the window cover open. I saw one fresh arrestee slamming kicks into another who was laying on the ground.
I called for back-up and keyed the door open. Procedure would have been to wait for back-up but in my estimation, the kid on the ground was about to be kicked to death. I reached in, grabbed the kicker by the hood, yanked him out of the room, and slammed him against the wall outside. I applied cuffs without a problem; he was stunned by the speed. When I started doing the report, I found out that he had been a state champion wrestler a few years before.
The body mechanics looked like a basic kata. The reach and grab looked like a lunge punch. In the kata, this is followed by a ninety-degree turn and an outside block with the punching hand. I had his hood in that hand, so it pulled him off-balance, forward, head almost to my hip, and spun him up to face away from me. The next move in kata is a reverse punch with the other hand. In real life, my palm slammed and pinned him against the wall.
It was effective. The body mechanics were identical to kata. Not a single move was the way any Karate instructore had ever explained it to me.
I am not saying that kata is the optimal or even a good way to train. What I am saying is that from my experience, the mechanics of Karate kata are extremely functional in real life.
To me, it looks like kata is all about hands, shoulders, and hips working together simultaneously with a drop in center of gravity (COG). This is one of the most potent systems of power generation. This is a potent system regardless of whether the action is interpreted as a strike, a lock, or a throw.
The more possibilities you see in anything, the more options you have. Since the actions can be interpreted effectively in so many ways, kata may be more powerful as a training tool if you see none of those (or all of them) than if you decide it is just one of them. As long as the hips, hands, shoulders, and COG work together, there is no difference anyway. Karateka get in their own way when they try to dig into the “deeper secrets” of their movement. Learn to move. Kata is excellent for that. Then reproduce or experience the dynamics of actual conflict and you will see how much really valid technique there is in the old forms.
You may recall from a previous post that Sgt. Miller is critical of unrealistic techniques that are inapplicable in the sorts of situations in which one may be attacked for real. As he put it, “Will your favorite move still work without room to turn or step?”. If you are used to free sparring, then you have trained yourself to need a lot of room to maneuver, which is another reason that sparring is unrealistic or even counterproductive.
For this reason, I found the following story — again, an account of a real conflict involving a law enforcement officer — in which training in kata proved to be extremely effective in surviving an attack. It also helps that the style in question is Goju-ryu and the kata is one that I learned recently. It is by Det. Glenn Cunningham, and is entitled “How A Technique From Tensho Kata Saved My Life On The Street“. Here are some excerpts:
OK, so it’s three against one, how not to get killed? Undercover time is now over, you’re a police officer and your cover is blown. What I remember, I’ll try to explain as best as I can. The woman on my back was suddenly off my back and screaming, running out of the building. As for the guy who grabbed my revolver, I remember striking him twice with my left hand (a move from Tensho kata where the practitioner hits forward and down with his palm heel from a high chamber position) into the ear location, which forced him to release the grip he had on the revolver and drop to his knees (this was the move that saved my life).
…
My final thought is that if I had not been trained properly in the martial arts and the bunkai of Tensho kata (and other kata too), this situation would have ended differently. The main attack was with the guy who grabbed my weapon and if I had not trained both sides of my hands to hit equally (using the palm heel strike) he could have pulled my revolver away from me and I would not have been able to write this article.
There are many things in the martial arts that seem counterintuitive. If they weren’t, it wouldn’t take so much training to make them feel natural, as eventually they do in advanced students. One of the counterintuitive aspects is the fact that kata — which are done alone, are highly scripted, and do not automatically reveal the purposes of the movements — can be a much more effective method of training for real-world conflict than free sparring with a real opponent.
I am currently reading the outstanding book Meditations on Violence: A Comparison of Martial Arts Training & Real World Violence by Rory Miller. It is one of the best-written and most honest books I have ever read about the martial arts. It is also very eye-opening. Consider the following passage (p.55-57), quoted at length here because I think everyone should read it:
The four truths: Assaults happen closer, faster, more suddenly, and with more power than most people believe.
Closer. One of the most common and artificial aspects of modern martial arts training is that self-defence drills are practiced at an optimum distance where the attacker must take at least a half step to contact. Real criminals rarely give this luxury of time. They strike when they are sure of hitting, positive that their victim is well within range before initiating the attack.
That half step of extra distance allows many things to work that are hard to pull off in real life. Blocks and evasions rarely work in real encounters. Even in the dojo, if you stand close enough that you can lay your forearm on your partner’s shoulder (nearly optimum striking range) and allow him to strike with either hand to targets of his choice, you will not block the strikes in time unless he telegraphs badly. Distance is time, and blocking takes time.
The attacker always chooses the time and place for the attack, and he chooses a range at which he can surely hit hard and his victim will have the least possible time to react. This means he will be close. Often, the ambush place will be an area that hampers the victim’s movements — a toilet stall, between two parked cars or slammed into a wall. Will your favorite move still work without room to turn or step?
Faster. Because the threat has chosen the time, the place, and the victim, he can attack all-out, with no thought given to defense. The speed of this flurry, the constant rain of blows, can be mind numbing.
When your martial arts students are sparring, use a stopwatch and time how many blows are thrown in a minute. Even in professional boxing, the number is not that impressive. There is a give and take to sparring and subtleties of timing in defense and offense that are integral to making it a game of skill.
Then time them on a heavy bag … Completely untrained people usually do four hits a second. Eight to ten times a second is reasonable for a decent martial artist. Thirteen to fourteen is the fastest I have done.
An assault is conducted like this flurry, not like sparring. A competent martial artist who is used to the more cautious timing of sparring is completely unprepared for this kind of speed. Even the people who strike ten times a second can’t block ten times a second.
More suddenly. An assault is based on the threat’s assessment of his chances. If he can’t get surprise, he often won’t attack. Some experts say that there is always some intuitive warning. Possibly, but if the warning was noted and heeded, the attack would be prevented. When the attack happens, it is always a surprise.
This is one of the hardest aspects of an ambush to train for. The very fact that you know you are training removes the element of surprise. The unexpectedness of an attack can negate nearly any skill. You psych up for training, for competition. You have time to use breathing techniques to adjust your adrenaline balance in class, but an assault happens while you are in your nine to five mind; when your brain is dealing with bills or shopping lists or lost car keys.
More power. There is a built-in problem with all training. You want to recycle your partners. If you or your students hit as hard as they can every time they hit, you will quickly run out of students.
Truthfully, the average criminal does not hit nearly as hard as a good boxer or karateka can hit. They do hit harder than the average boxer (because of gloves) or karateka has ever felt.
Being hit is part of the normal environment of an attack. More often than not, the first strike in an ambush lands. So do many others. It can be a sharp and stinging pain, not like the dull ocean roar of a boxing hit or a kind of wincing where part of your face wants to curl over the point of impact. Good martial artists, good ring fighters often freeze for a second because the attack doesn’t feel like training. If anything feels, sounds, or smells different than you have trained for, your body will be aware that it is a new experience and might freeze. Fighting with a concussion doesn’t feel like sparring.
Over at the blog KarateByJesse, you can find the same sentiment expressed with similar frankness:
All you “get” is something blurry in the corner of your eye, and if you’re really lucky perhaps a glimpse of a furious face – before a flurry of fists comes flying your way. And hey, that’s not even the worst case scenario. You might be attacked without even noticing that much beforehand.
The thing is, in self-defense, or on the infamous ‘street’, only one person is ever prepared for what’s about to go down – and you’d better believe that’s never going to be you.
Never.
Because if you are, you won’t have to resort to fighting in the first place.
It’s like when this brown belt from our dojo once asked me why we never practice self defense from the usual kumite range he sees on YouTube (WKF Sport Karate style). So I said “please, let me demonstrate”. As soon as he got into the traditional ‘kamae’ ready position a couple of meters in front of me, I immediately turned around and ran out of the dojo in silence.
He stood there completely speechless.
Because that’s what you do.
It’s the only sensible thing.
In fact, if you have the luxury of facing your opponent square on, from the usual dojo kumite range, with your hands up, while being fully aware that something is going to happen any second now, then every moment you’re not running away to safety is another moment for somebody to get a first class ticket to the hospital.
Or, even worse: the mortuary.
Let’s pray that’s not you or your friends/family.
But of course, you already knew this. You know it, your sensei knows it, and his sensei’s sensei knew it. We all know that if somebody is going to attack you (again, on the mythical ‘street’), it’s probably never going to be straight punch trauma to the solar plexus (what we in Karate refer to as oi-zuki, or jun-zuki.). More likely, it’s going to be wild, swinging punch trauma to the left side of your face, somewhere in the triangle formed between your ear, chin and temple. After that, it’s grabbing time, and then it’s rolling time.
It is a fact that if you are ever going to get attacked in real life, it’s going to be unlike anything you’ve ever encountered in the average Karate dojo anywhere on this planet.
Both of these authors are martial artists, so obviously they don’t think training in traditional martial arts is useless. The important point that they make is that martial arts exercises by themselves are unlikely to prepare someone for a real self-defense scenario that is very different from the circumstances experienced in the dojo.
Their argument, with which I wholeheartedly agree, is that either you supplement your traditional martial arts training with more realistic self-defense training (“do”) or you train in traditional martial arts for other reasons besides making yourself an effective street fighter (“do not”). I have said before that I think training in martial arts can contribute to abilities, both mental and physical, that can be useful in a real conflict situation, but if you really want to be prepared to defend yourself or your loved ones, you need to train for it. In principle, all you need is a willing partner and some guidance on how to defend against common attacks from non-martial artists. A sucker punch or an angry roundhouse swing from close range. Or an attack while you are sitting or in a confined space or facing a different direction. Working on your ground game would be a very good idea, too.
But remember, the best self-defense method is avoidance, and the point of martial arts training is not to fight.
Kata — pre-arranged sequences involving specific blocks, attacks, stances, and movements — are central to training in traditional karate. Kata have been the main mechanism by which the art is passed on from teacher to student, and much of the progression through the ranks is based on learning and demonstrating proficiency in specific kata. Many of the self-defence techniques are derived from or built into kata (made explicit through bunkai, or the study of the applications of kata moves), and kata provide one of the best ways to work on physical precision, mental discipline, and other important components of one’s training. In short, one cannot train in traditional karate without spending a lot of time learning and practicing kata.
As with other types of complex information, learning a new kata can be challenging, especially for new students. For me, having come back to training after a long hiatus, I am trying to recall or re-learn kata that I once knew, to adjust to minor differences between schools of Goju-ryu, and to learn new kata including some Goju-ryu kata and some kata specific to the Meibukan school. The order in which kata are taught differs between my old and new schools, which means that I know a couple of kata that are not required until much later in the current curriculum (if at all), and I also am missing some kata that are needed at middle ranks in my new school. So, while I have experience learning new kata and have learned a fairly good number of them in the past, I have the additional challenge of trying to (re-)learn several kata at the same time.
I have learned new kata in several ways in the past. For example, in smaller classes in which the Sensei works with students of the same rank (say, all the green belts) and shows them a few moves from a new kata. Or, perhaps they may go through the entire kata, but this is still being shown move by move by the Sensei and only to students who are at the same level. Getting all the moves to the new kata might take several classes. At the other extreme are cases in which a kata is taught in the short time frame of a seminar, maybe as little as an hour — usually this would be a kata that is from another style, or is a weapon kata, or a kata that one learns largely out of interest. In the seminar scenario, it can become a struggle to remember as much of the kata as possible. One might also hope that some fellow students manage to remember different parts of the kata so that it can be pieced together through a combined effort.
In my current school, the most common way to learn a new kata is to “follow along” while a kata is performed by the entire class of junior belts (white to green). We’re not taught the kata move by move, rather we learn by imitating the higher ranked students and receive corrections from Sensei and Sempais along the way. With larger classes, this is definitely the most efficient way to proceed. However, it can make things seems pretty confusing at the very beginning of learning a new kata.
I have been thinking about the most effective ways to learn a new kata and what I usually do when trying to learn one. I thought I would share some notes below, but this is by no means a definitive guide — just my own thoughts on how to make the process more effective. (If you have other tips, feel free to post them in the comments section). And so, without further ado…
Ten Tips for Learning a New Kata:
1) Don’t expect to learn it all at once.
The first time you are shown or follow along with a new kata, it can seem very overwhelming. It may seem like you can’t keep track of any of the moves, and that you’re completely lost the entire time. You might even feel like you’ve lost all your coordination.
That’s normal, and it passes. The key is not to expect too much the first few times you are shown the kata. If you simply expect that it will be confusing at first, you won’t become anxious about it. It’s a natural part of the process, just like the first few days in a new job or first learning to use new software or acquiring any other new skills.
2) Follow along whenever you can.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and it is also a very effective way to learn a kata. Whenever possible, watch more senior belts performing it and try to follow along. As one black belt commented to me recently, at his level the goal is to follow along until he knows the kata well enough to practice it on his own. Later, he can refine specific moves in the kata and ask for clarification on details. “Fake it til you make it”, as he put it.
Of course, I would never claim that learning kata is just a matter of "monkey see, monkey do". This is a chimpanzee, not a monkey.
3) Practice outside of class time.
You can’t expect to learn something as complex as a new kata if you practice it, at most, once or twice per week during class. It will make its way into your muscle memory much more quickly if you practice it after class and at home as well. The beauty of kata is that you don’t need a partner or instructor to practice. You don’t even need to put on your gi. Even if you only remember a few moves of the kata, practicing them is much better than nothing.
4) Find videos of the kata being performed.
In the age of YouTube, you can usually find a decent example of the kata being performed by a black belt. This can be very useful as you work on the sequence of steps because you can pause after each move, watch more complex parts over and over, check specific aspects like hand or foot positions, and so on. There may be variations in the way the kata is performed, but the basic sequence should be more or less the same as what you’re learning.
Here’s an example of the kata Tenchi, which I am currently learning, as performed by the grandson of the grandmaster who developed this kata — obviously this is a reliable source to consult when learning the kata!
5) Write it down.
Many complex things are learned more easily by writing them down. Working though a kata (by doing it, watching it on a video, or sitting and thinking about it) and writing down the sequence of steps will help to reinforce it in your memory. Writing down the steps of the kata has the added benefit of identifying steps that you’re uncertain of — just put a question mark there and move on to the next part you remember, or look it up, or ask about it at the next class. It also provides you with notes that you can keep with you as you practice, in case you get stuck.
By way of example, here is a portion of the notes that I wrote down for the kata Tenchi, which I am currently working on. (Note that there may be some minor errors).
The first part of the kata Tenchi. In my notes, there are about 40 steps in total. Click for larger image.
6) Visualize the steps of the kata.
If you have a moment where your attention is not focused on something else (say, if you’re waiting for a meeting or riding on a bus), visualize the steps of the kata in your mind. This can be quite effective for remembering the basic sequence, though obviously it won’t help you to refine specific moves or commmit the kata to muscle memory the way physically performing it will.
7) Try to understand the logic and context of the kata.
Kata are not random sequences of steps, they’re intended to represent specific defenses and counters to specific attacks. Sometimes knowing some very basic applications of the kata (bunkai) can help to remember the sequence. Also, if you get stuck, this can help you figure out what the next step must be, given the context of the kata. It’s similar to an actor who improves her ability to remember the lines for a play by considering the context of the scene and thinking like her character.
8 ) Ask for help and accept constructive criticism.
For the most part, senior belts are happy to help newer students with kata. If you have a specific question about the details of a technique, or you’re stuck on a part of the sequence, simply ask. Remember that your Sensei has the last word on what is the correct way to perform the kata, but for issues of basic sequence and technique, anyone familiar with the kata ought to be able and willing to answer your question. One thing you will notice is that senior belts may need to perform a sequence in order to answer your query — this is because the kata has long since been committed to muscle memory for them. Also, if you get a chance to perform your kata in front of the class, go for it. This can lead to a lot of helpful feedback and it will let you know which parts you’re certain of and which ones you forget as soon as you are under a small amount of pressure.
(Update: In the comments, Brian Erickson suggested the very useful habit of keeping “a journal of corrections and comments made by constructive critics”.)
9) Perform the kata in different places and facing different directions.
A lot of new students only perform the kata in class, and only facing the front of the dojo. As soon as they have to turn and face a different direction, they get lost. This indicates that they have memorized the kata steps with reference to other pieces of information, such as landmarks in the dojo, rather than actually learning the kata on its own. It is a good idea to break this habit early by performing the kata while facing different directions (e.g., after class) or in different places (e.g., at home).
10) Watch yourself performing the kata.
Videotaping yourself performing the kata — which anyone can do now that phones and digital cameras are standard fare — can be extremely useful for pinpointing mistakes that you may be making. It’s the same reason athletes in many other sports use video analysis to improve their technique. I have not used this approach much in the past, but I intend to start this time around. If you just can’t bring yourself to watch yourself on tape, try performing the kata in front of a mirror and adjusting your stance or hand position as necessary. This can be quite helpful as you work to commit the steps and techniques to muscle memory.
There is no easy way to learn a new kata. There are plenty of ways to make the process more difficult, however, so hopefully these tips will help you to learn a new kata as effectively as possible.
Meibukan Goju-ryu does not include free sparring for points (jiyu kumite). To be honest, I don’t miss it. I never really enjoyed point sparring, since it seems to me that it often just ends up as a flail-fest with few real techniques. And when there are techniques used, they’re designed to score points rather than to do damage.
Instead, Meibukan uses only pre-arranged sparring. This means that one partner attacks and the other defends using one of a set of particular techniques. The simplest version is to just do walking basics with a partner, with one, two, or three techniques thrown at a time (e.g., high punch, or high punch, middle punch, low punch). In renzoku kumite, there is a more complex sequence performed by two partners in a linear series. And in kakomi kumite, one student is surrounded by four others and again there is a pre-determined sequence of attacks and blocks. The specific series of attacks can vary in renzoku kumite and kakomi kumite, but the sequence of movements is the same. I have written more about these forms of kumite in a previous post (Learning kumite exercises).
In another type of pre-arranged sparring known as one point sparring (ippon kumite), one partner throws a particular attack (say, a middle punch), and the other responds with one of four or five pre-determined defences and counterattacks. So far, I have learned the series for high punch and middle punch.
There are five counterattacks included in the ippon kumite series for middle punch. One of them involves shifting into cat stance, blocking the punch, grabbing the opponent’s wrist, and delivering a front kick. I like this one because it involves side-stepping and redirection, maintains control of the opponent’s arm, and uses a kick. Would I actually perform such a sequence in real life? Not exactly like this, but the benefits of practicing the basic concepts of redirection and control are pretty obvious.
In one of the four high punch counterattacks, you pivot so that your feet face one side as you drop to one knee below the punch and deliver an uppercut to the groin. My first reaction on learning this was “Yeah, right”. There is zero chance that I would want to drop down to a knee on purpose in such a situation, let alone in response to a single attack. For one thing, you put your face conveniently at your opponent’s knee level. And what if that high punch was just the first part of a combination? Oops!
That said, I did notice right away that the movement of pivoting the feet and bending down to one knee felt novel and seemed to flow fairly nicely. In that sense, it added a little bit more awareness of my body that I didn’t have before. It also provided some practice at getting up from a position of being down on one knee, ready to attack if necessary. And I could also see that it would be a bit of a workout of the leg muscles if you did it repeatedly. In short, practicing this technique wasn’t useless at all and it was naive of me to react purely on the superficial criterion of whether I would use it in a fight. As I wrote recently in another post, there is a lot more to martial arts training than learning a series of individual techniques that you could use in combat (Your art wouldn’t work in real life, man!).
The truth is, a lot of what we do in martial arts training does not translate in a simple way to applicable fighting skills. I wouldn’t drop to one knee to defend against a high punch. I also wouldn’t drop and do a bunch of push-ups. But both of these exercises, done repeatedly, will contribute to a general fitness, awareness of body, smoothness of motion, and other attributes that would be helpful in a fight.
This should not be surprising to students of karate. Learning kata is pretty much the same thing — the direct fighting applications are not always obvious, or indeed may be impractical under a superficial interpretation. But practicing kata is a very good way of getting a much more general — and in that sense, more useful — training than just learning individual techniques that you may or may not (probably not) be able to pull off in reality.
The lesson that not all training is as it seems ought to be well known to members of my generation, as it featured prominently in the classic The Karate Kid (1984). If you haven’t seen the movie (shame on you!), you can get the gist of this important lesson from the clip below. I have actually used this in an undergraduate class to get across the point that sometimes exercises that seem pointless can actually be teaching an important skill. (Watch it all the way through).
Maybe it’s because I have been teaching for several years and trying to convey complex scientific concepts to my students. Perhaps I just have more life experience. Or maybe starting over as a white belt has given me a new perspective on training in the basics. Whatever it is, I feel like my understanding of the art is different this time around. I’m not as concerned about the utility of any given technique so much as focusing on the deeper aspects of the training.
No, I wouldn’t drop to a knee in a fight. But I still think it is worthwhile doing so in class.
Martial arts are supposed to instill confidence and respect, but you wouldn’t know it to hear martial artists criticizing each other. I mentioned previously that there is an amazing tendency — sometimes taken to rather humourous extremes — to critique other people’s katas as though any variations from what one was taught must be completely wrong.
It’s even worse when practitioners of one art start talking about other arts. Invariably, the discussion will come down to a claim that other arts “wouldn’t work in real life” or “would be useless on the street”. Taekwondo is too flashy and is only useful for board-breaking and winning trophies. Aikido only works on compliant partners. Karate only practices to defend against unlikely attacks. And so on.
In my opinion, this debate is absolutely pointless, for several reasons:
1) There is far more variation in ability among martial artists within a style than there is in practicality among styles. In other words, what matters most is the individual, not the art.
2) 99.9% of martial artists will never use their training in a real fight, so it’s irrelevant which art is most effective under some scenario that the vast majority of people will never encounter. For the same reason, any claims about which art is better “on the street” is merely speculation. The odds that two martial artists of equal physical abilities and levels of skill from two different arts will end up in a fight with each other are infinitesimal, so arguments about which arts are better against which other arts are even sillier.
3) Serious training and advanced skills in any martial art is vastly better than no training and no skills. Strength, flexibility, fast reaction time, stamina, coordination, balance, and keeping a level head — which you should get from training in any martial art — will contribute as much to success in a fight as any particular set of techniques that your art may emphasize.
4) Every martial artist ends up mostly training to fight other practitioners of their own art. They may simulate attacks from other arts, but karate students practice with karate students, jiu jutsu students with jiu jutsu students, and aikido students with aikido students. How could it be otherwise?
5) Training in a martial art, day in and day out, with all the pain that comes along with it, so that someday, maybe, if you are in a fight you won’t get hurt — well, that doesn’t make a lot of sense. The best self defence by far is avoidance anyway, so it is much more reasonable to focus on the many other benefits of martial arts training which, again, apply to any art.
But wait! What about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) or Mixed Martial Arts (MMA)? Those are clearly much more effective in real combat than any of the dusty old “traditional” martial arts, aren’t they? A lot of people seem to think so.
Here’s a clip with highlights from a recent BJJ world championship. Does this resemble what you imagine most street fights will be like?
“Ok,” I hear you saying, “but that’s a tournament. BJJ can also be used in a real fight, and it’s better because we all know that 70% (or 80% or 90%) of fights end up on the ground.”
Here are a couple of examples of real fights, evidently between BJJ practitioners and untrained opponents.
Obviously even basic skills in BJJ are much better than no skills. Advanced skills in BJJ probably would have been very effective in these situations. But what if the crowd doesn’t just watch, and instead the guy has a buddy or two who join in? Would going to the ground on purpose be a good strategy? Could you take your time in the guard position while you work to land an arm bar or triangle choke?
How about MMA? Those guys are in shape. They train hard. They fight with real punches (wearing gloves) and they grapple to real choke-outs or submissions (with a referee). But in this clip, you can see what happens when some very skilled MMA fighters get put into a realistic combat scenario against marines.
Would I want to fight a skilled MMA practitioner? Heck no. I also wouldn’t want to find a skilled kung fu artist or a skilled boxer or a skilled wrestler. Or these guys:
Let me be perfectly clear. I think BJJ, MMA, boxing, and traditional martial arts are all valuable and worth training in if they interest you. I am merely countering the persistent claim that arts like BJJ and MMA are useful on the street whereas other arts are useless.
The individual in this video sums it up very well:
Money quote:
“Self defense is about recovery from stupidity or bad luck, from finding yourself in a position you would have given almost anything to prevent.” (p.8)
As for me, I think each martial art has a lot to offer and that whichever one you choose, the focus should be on doing it to the best of your abilities. I also think that one should try to be open to learning from other arts and that sharing of knowledge among practitioners of different styles would benefit everyone involved. Martial artists have a lot more in common than they have dividing them, so it is pointless to argue about which is better under imagined conditions. If you train hard, focus on self perfection, and remain realistic in your expectations for what real violence would be like, you will do well. If you practice avoidance to minimize the odds that you’ll ever need to defend yourself in a fight, you’ll do even better.
I recently installed a 100lb heavy bag in my garage, part of my growing “home dojo” that I use for practicing outside of class time. However, just punching and kicking the heavy bag gets a little boring. Moreover, a heavy bag doesn’t really help one practice more complex sequences of techniques such as those included in the ippon kumite exercises. So, I decided that what my heavy bag needed was a pair of arms.
Surprisingly, there are few options out there, either in terms of bags that come with training arms or attachments that can be added to a standard heavy bag. There are various commercially available grappling dummies, and of course there are traditional training tools like the mook jong used in Kung Fu as well as mook jong-type “arms” that one can strap onto a bag, but this is not what I wanted.
The only decent item available for purchase that I have seen is the one shown below. I have ordered a pair of these and will write a review of them when they arrive.
However, I also like to explore DIY options for stuff like this, so in the meantime I have been tinkering with various options for making arm attachments for the heavy bag.
The first approach that I tried was based on examples I have found of jiu jutsu practitioners constructing their own grappling dummies. In most cases, the joints (or even the entire skeleton) are made using strong electrical wire, which is flexible enough to bend while practicing holds but rigid enough to maintain whatever position it is put in when bent. Because I want to practice ippon kumite as well as double blocks, traps, and other techniques, I decided that this would be a good way to start since it would allow me to incorporate bendable joints into the arms that could be posed to simulate various attacks. I’ll talk about some other options in future posts.
I also wanted poseable hands, although most of the time these will probably just be made into fists. The arms themselves need to be strong enough to withstand repeated hard blocks, but also padded so as not to be painful to use. Options here include wood or plastic (ABS or PVC) pipe inside foam. I experimented with using a wooden dowel inside a pool noodle, and I think that would work fine. However, for the Mark I version of the arms described below, I ended up using a wooden dowel wrapped in camping pad foam and covered in duct tape. This provided a pretty realistic feel when blocking and striking the arms.
Cross-section through an arm showing the wooden dowel "bone" and foam padding "muscle".
I picked up some thick wire at a hardware store (but check out your local ReStore — they may have some that is quite inexpensive). I decided to get a single industrial wire that contained many copper strands, but you could certainly just put together a few pieces of regular household wire. I have also seen an example where someone used multiple coat hangers this way.
It took a little tinkering to sort out how to attach the wire joints to the forearm and upper arm “bones” that consisted of the wooden dowels cut to approximately the length of my arm bones (about 13″ each). In the end, I drilled a hole (9/16″) down the centre of the dowel, inserted the wire, screwed it in place from the sides, and then reinforced this with zip ties. This worked well, though the danger is that the dowel can split (so pre-drill the holes!). As we’ll see, this worked fine for the elbow and wrist joints, but I will probably do something different for the shoulders.
Probably the most fun part of the project was making the hands. For this, I started with a piece of 2″x4″ cut to about the same dimensions as the main part of my hand, and then sanded down to make it somewhat thinner.
I then drilled six holes in the piece of wood: five were the size of standard three-way switch wire (four on one end, one on the side), and one was the same size as the holes drilled for the elbow joints.
Once I had the holes drilled, I inserted segments of wire into the holes to make the fingers and wrist joint, and pre-drilled and screwed them into place.
Pre-drilling holes for finger attachment screws.
Skeleton of the hand, with fingers and wrist attached.
Then, it was simply a matter of covering the hand skeleton with foam and duct tape to flesh it out.
A glove completed the hand.
Does it work? Here are the results of the poseability test:
(Admit it. You’d be disappointed if I didn’t include this one.)
Attach the hands to the arms, et voila!
I won’t describe in detail how I made the mounting brackets, because I am not satisfied with the shoulder joints (the wire I used can’t hold the arms up well enough) and will be re-working these and will describe a revised design for the Mark II arms. But, just so you can get a sense of how they look, here are the arms attached to the heavy bag.
Kiai! (I blocked this punch and gave the guy a backfist to the face, btw).
I tried out the arms for a while, and I have to say they are really fun to use. They also make the training seem a lot more realistic, in that you can practice all kinds of blocks and counters, footwork, and so on. A few improvements, and I think we’ll have a very useful piece of equipment on our hands. Once I settle on a final design, I will be sure to post some more detailed how-to instructions.
Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu
Kodokan Judo
