Today was my first exposure to the brown and black belt class. It was an atypical class, though, because it was largely focused on training in preparation for an upcoming trip to Okinawa that many of the senior belts from our dojo and other nearby dojos are taking in about a week. Sensei was kind enough to invite me to observe the class to get a sense of what the advanced classes are like.
When I arrived, I had expected to just watch, but then I was also invited to put on the gi and join the class. I’ll admit, I was a little nervous because there are many drills and techniques that are new to me in Meibukan, because I am still rusty (though, in my humble opinion, much better than I was a month ago), and because I was not sure I could keep up physically.
One thing I have come to recognize is the importance not only of having a good Sensei, but also of having good senior belts in a dojo. Not just because they are a good gauge of the quality of the training (you wouldn’t want to train in a place where the senior students were sloppy and lazy, would you?), but also because they can make the difference in how well you progress. Whether in sparring drills or in helping with specifics of kata, senior belts are a great resource. Fortunately, our dojo has a large group of them, and from what I have seen they are exceptional both in technical abilities and in their generosity in working with less experienced students.
So, even though I felt like I was probably in over my head, I settled in pretty quickly and had a great class. This is what it used to feel like when I wore a brown belt. That said, a group of black belts working on some drils next to the group I was in showed how much harder the training can get. There was a time when I would have been up for that kind of thing (I am no stranger to hard hits and being thrown around), but right now I am still getting comfortable with some of the basics. Again, help from experienced students made it possible for me to take part in most of the drills today, even when they were new to me. I can’t say the same for the three new kata (to me) that we did as a group today. My mind is swirling from all the new information, but I intend to work on each of these kata now that I have been shown them officially in class.
I also had to perform a kata in front of the class today. I’ve done that sort of thing many times, of course, either in gradings or demonstrations or when helping with junior belt classes. That was a long time ago, however, and although I was fine with being put on the spot, I knew it was going to be a mediocre performance at best since I am still working out a lot of kinks. Also, I suspect that it didn’t help that it was Sanchin — a very slow kata in which there are many fine details that can be performed incorrectly and in which mistakes are very easy to spot. That’s one reason why it’s such an important kata in Goju ryu. In any case, I managed to do a very rusty version of it and received some helpful comments. I always take suggestions seriously, and even small constructive criticisms add up to help improve one’s kata performance.
All in all, it felt great to be part of an advanced class again. I still have a lot of work to do, but I was pleased that I was able to keep up as well as I did. As long as you don’t drown, being thrown into the deep end is a pretty effective way to motivate improvements in swimming skills.
One of the first things new karate students learn is how to make a fist and how to punch. Specifically, one must learn how to punch using the proper fist form and with the right part of the fist so as to avoid damaging one’s hand. Thumb on the outside, and strike with only the first two knuckles. Every new student learns this — either quickly, or the hard way.
For those of you who doubt the importance of punching with the proper technique, I present Exhibit A:
Ok, I don’t actually have confirmation that this injury resulted from an improper punch. But I do know, first-hand (sorry, bad pun), how incorrect punching technique can have painful consequences. When I was in high school (before I started training in karate, I should point out), I once got upset and punched a heavy wooden garage door. The garage door won that particular fight: it sustained no significant damage, whereas I ended up with a broken fifth metacarpal neck — better known as a boxer’s fracture.
If you are unfamiliar with skeletal anatomy, the metacarpals are the bones in the main part of the hand, each of which is connected to the bones that extend into the fingers (phalanges).
A broken metacarpal neck means that the rounded ball-like end of the bone breaks off. The net result is a painful injury and a cast and regret.
Striking with the wrong knuckles can lead to a broken bone. A star may not actually appear.
Not my actual x-ray, but the same injury.
It’s important to practice punching with proper technique to avoid such injuries. It is also more effective to focus a strike on a smaller area (i.e., two knuckles rather than all four), and the first two knuckles are more robust than the other two. Some traditional karate practitioners go to extremes to strengthen these knuckles, including striking a makiwara, a kind of punching board developed in Okinawa. Because traditional makiwara were wrapped in rope, the knuckles would also become very tough through long-term use.
Most western karate students do not make use of the makiwara. I never did, although I am planning to start — not to condition the knuckles but to develop greater striking power. One reason people avoid makiwara training these days is that the results can be quite visible and unappealing. Consider, for example, the photos below, taken from Eiichi Miyazato’s book Okinawa Den Gojuryu Karate-do. This is not a look I would personally like to have, though I have no doubt that such highly conditioned knuckles would be very effective.
You don’t need to turn your knuckles into sandpaper, but do be sure that you don’t bork your hand by punching with the wrong ones.
I may not have walked 5 miles to school and back each day (in the snow, uphill both ways), but it is true that when I first started training I did not have access to the wonderful resource that is the internet.
Now, I am not saying that one can learn karate online. A good Sensei and help from skilled senior students is the only way to learn properly. But, in terms of remembering the steps in a new (or, in my case, old) kata, or in reading up on history, or finding where to buy or how to make training equipment, the internet is extremely useful.
Case in point, I managed to recall/re-learn the basic sequence of Ten U No Kon bo kata in a few hours once I found some examples on YouTube and wrote down the sequence step by step. I practiced each component, and worked my way through from the beginning by adding the next step once I was comfortable with the previous steps to that point. Eventually, I could do the entire sequence along with the video, and then without the video or any notes. At that stage, it was sloppy but I had the sequence in memory again. I practiced it some more after both classes this week, and it is definitely getting much better now that I am focusing on each technique rather than remembering the basic sequence. The same thing works for learning new pre-arranged kumite sequences: video plus notes plus practice.
I am currently using the same approach for getting back to more complex kata like Seiyunchin and Bassai Dai. I have also found diagrams of the sequences, which are useful but difficult to follow if you aren’t already somewhat familiar with the kata. I have started a notebook with these diagrams as well as written sequences for all of the kata I am working on.
Again, this is not a way to learn a kata that you have not been taught by a Sensei, but it does help a lot when trying to recall certain details or when you get stuck partway through the sequence. Learning to perform the kata properly, understanding the bunkai, and anything other than going over the basic sequence is best done in the dojo.
Now, if you want to learn some fancier moves for show, like how to spin your ‘chuks, that’s something you can find tutorials for on YouTube. I know a bit of the flashy stuff with nunchaku, but it was based on what a senior belt taught me on the side here and there back when I was a junior belt. With the tutorials available online, you can learn quite a lot if you are willing to practice.
I have also found some useful resources for some do-it-yourself projects to construct training equipment. I have made a makiwara and a breaking board holder based on a combination of various designs that I found online. I’ll blog about these later, but it’s another example of the kind of additional resources one can find online that we didn’t have back in the day.
There is no substitute for hard training under a knowledgeable Sensei, but there are plenty of supplemental resources online to help you practice on your own.
NOTE: Be careful when looking for online resources to help you work on kata. There are good examples and bad examples, and even among good ones there are variations among styles and individuals that may not align with what you are being taught by your Sensei. Remember to use these resources only for basic practice.
Highly trained martial artists are capable of some pretty amazing things, but they do not possess superpowers. It comes down to skills gained through hard work and an extremely effective application of physics, anatomy, and biomechanics. Both physical and mental conditioning and discipline play a big part as well. But, ultimately, we’re dealing with sweat and blood and muscle and bone.
I think the following clips demonstrate this pretty well. I sure wouldn’t want to be hit with them, but they are still just hands.
As a scientist, I find it much more interesting to consider the physical explanations for the amazing abilities of trained martial artists, especially since many of the techniques were developed without detailed knowledge of physics or biology but rather by observing their effects and refining their application. That, to me, is much cooler than imagining some mystical factor that most people cannot hope to understand.
I have been back in the dojo for just about one month now. I’d say that some of the rust has been shaken off and the feel is coming back. I’m finding it easier and easier to learn new exercises, and I can go through several of my old kata from memory. Not to say that they’re very sharp at all or that I have properly adjusted to the slight variations in the new school of Goju-ryu, but it’s a lot better (in my mind) than it was a month ago. I also worked on a bo kata last night after class, and I think have it down (again, in terms of the basic sequence — lots of practice still needed to do it better).
Not so stiff after class anymore. Getting a bit more flexible each week. Stances and techniques are feeling more natural again. Some kata coming back.
To do for the upcoming month:
1. Significantly improve my Sanchin kata. I need to fix the position of my block arm, work on the breathing, and sort out the timing of the step-turn. I also am trying to get used to lengthening my Sanchin dachi — I was taught that the toe of the back foot should line up with the heel of the front foot, but I have since been told that this can be lengthened by about a fist length for tall students. That still feels awkward but it should be easy enough to change with practice.
2. Fix up my Gekisai ichi and Gekisai ni kata. There are some differences between the Jundokan and Meibukan versions in the punches, where the kiais are, and in the speed of the punches at the end. Cat stance also differs between Jundokan and Meibukan, so I will need to update the way I have been doing it.
3. Work on updating my Saifa kata. There are a few differences with this kata as well, including the timing of the count when training in it, a jump to the kicks, and in the hands during the blocks and backfists. Also, there are no kiais in the Meibukan version, I think.
4. Practice my bo kata. I think I have the moves down (it’s amazing how quickly it came back), but the execution needs work. Last night I kept checking my hands on the bo (1/3, 1/3, 1/3) and this wasn’t bad but it needs to be tightened up. Also, I think I mixed up the stances a bit so I will need to clean that up.
5. Work on remembering Seiyunchin and Bassai Dai kata. Seiyunchin was a blue belt kata in Jundokan, but it’s a black belt kata in Meibukan. Bassai Dai is from Shotokan, but we needed it for blue belt. I’d really like to get these kata back since they’re both really interesting and enjoyable to perform.
6. Learn Tensho kata. We did Tensho at the end of class last night. Well, most people did — I just followed along and tried to remember as much as I could when the parts were being explained. Tensho was a black belt kata in Jundokan, so I don’t know it. I really like it, though, and I appreciate the concept of starting the night with Sanchin and closing with Tensho. Now that I’ve been shown it once officially, I think I’m allowed to work on it and ask questions from senior students.
7. Basics and kumite. Gotta sharpen up the strikes and blocks. Also work on raising the kicks and kicking with the heel. More work on hip rotation during techniques needed (of course) but also timing the technique concurrently with the foot landing (we don’t root first). Also, some of the pre-arranged types of kumite are new to me, so I need to get these down.
8. General fitness. I am feeling a lot better now than I was a few weeks ago, but my stamina is still nowhere near where it needs to be. I couldn’t survive an advanced class at this point given how the junior classes are going, that’s for sure. Flexibility is also an issue, but improves week by week.
For all of elementary school (K-8), I was in a French immersion program. That meant that all classes were in French (except English, obviously). There were some pretty creative reward and penalty systems in place to encourage us to speak French rather than English throughout the day, like tickets (“billets“) of which we would receive a certain number at the start of the month and then lose individually if we were busted speaking English. At the end of the month, there would be an auction for prizes, so the students who didn’t lose their tickets could bid on the good stuff. (For the record, I don’t think I ever had any tickets left by then).
Also during elementary school, I started skiing. Well, my Father made me try skiing even though I was stubborn and didn’t want to. I’m glad he did — I was pretty much hooked after one day. The thing about skiing, which you snowboarders may not appreciate, is that it takes a long time to become proficient. In fact, it’s the sort of thing where you choose one element to work on each season, like bringing your skis an inch or two closer together (after you are able to “parallel”, that is). After a number of years, I was pretty good — my skis were parallel and as close together as they could get.
Some of my friends opted to attend a French high school in another city, but I went to an English high school. Obviously, grade 9 French class would not have been much of a benefit for me seeing as how I was already fluent, so they had me take German instead at first. Needless to say, after many years of not speaking French, a lot of it slipped away.
Likewise, I stopped skiing regularly after I went away to university. In the meantime, technology changed and new ski designs were developed. Whereas I used to ski on longer skis, now even advanced skiers use shorter ones. I found this out when I finally did go skiing again with some of my research students a couple of years ago. At first, I couldn’t believe how rusty I was. (Falling? Me?) But then I realized that it wasn’t just me, it was also the skis. Once I figured out the new feel of the skis, I was able to return to relatively respectable form. Not nearly like I was, but parallel with short turns. I felt pretty sure that if I skied for a season or two, I would be able to regain most of my abilities, along with learning how to ski with the new (and, I guess, improved?) equipment. More recently, I gave a talk at UBC, and during that trip a couple of former students and I went to Whistler. Again, the new skis took some geting used to, my technique was rusty, and my legs were not in any kind of shape, but I could see that with practice, a lot of it would come back and the rest could be re-learned.
I had a similar experience with French recently. At a conference in Mexico, I was seated at a dinner table with some colleagues from France. To my surprise, I managed to have an entire conversation in French during dinner. Of course, my vocabulary was embarassingly limited and my accent was terrible, but I was amazed at how much I could still recall. Again, I was pretty sure that a lot of it would come back quickly if I spent a few months in Quebec or France. On the other hand, I would need to learn the specific idioms and accent of whichever place I was. The French I learned initially was “Ontario French”, which differs somewhat from both Quebec French and France French. (I once got into a heated argument with a high school French teacher about how to pronounce “toy” in French — she had learned in France.) There is also a big difference between being in French immersion as a kid and being a native French speaker, so I would have a lot of new things to learn, literature to explore, and so on.
Being back in the dojo feels a lot like that first time back on the slopes or that francophone dinner in Mexico. I don’t have the abilities that I once had, but I am encouraged by the sense that a lot of it is still there and will come back fairly quickly. The rest I know I can learn with regular training. And there are some differences this time around, as with the new skis and the different accents.
It’s not quite like riding a bike, but it is a bit like skiing in France.
One of the less appealing things that one may encounter in the martial arts is a tendency for people to criticize each other. Actually, let me be more specific: there is a tendency among some martial artists, more often than not mid-level students, to be very critical of others. This is most obvious when discussing martial arts other than one’s own, but it also applies to (non-constructive) criticism of the performance of practitioners of the same art.
As I have been working to recall details of kata that I used to perform regularly but have since forgotten through lack of practice, I have been looking for examples of performances online. Some Senseis provide instructional videos, which can be very helpful, but in other cases it’s enough to just see someone very skilled perform the kata in order for it to begin coming back to me. I have also enjoyed seeing variations of the same kata performed by practioners from different branches of Goju-ryu, especially my previous school of Jundokan and my new one of Meibukan. Finally, it has been nice to get a small preview of some kata that I have not yet learned, such as the ones specific to Meibukan, performed by some of the highest-ranking members of the school.
Here’s an example of Akihiro Yagi performing the Meibukan kata Tenchi in 2003.
Wow. This is what it looks like when you train all your life with the masters.
Of course, that doesn’t stop the members of the peanut gallery from criticizing the kata. As one apparent expert (in karate, not grammar) posted in the comments thread on YouTube,
“nice tenchi but your [sic] a little stiff”
To which the person who posted the video replied,
“lol, did you not read the description on this video? the performer is the grandson of the Meitoku Yagi, the creator of this kata…”
This is a particularly humourous example, but you can find similar critiques all over YouTube. In fact, I can understand why many martial artists who post videos of themselves performing kata have disabled the comments. Otherwise there is an inevitable flood of criticism about why the kata is all wrong.
Here’s the thing. The masters of the original styles, the people who developed the kata, generally did not record the moves in detail in writing. Kata are taught and learned through what is effectively an oral tradition, which is notoriously susceptible to alteration. Sometimes this happens unintentionally by virtue of the process of learning a kata from someone who learned it from someone who learned it from someone, like in the kids’ game “telephone”. Other times, there are purposeful modifications made by subsequent masters. Martial arts are not static, they continue to evolve through time — if they didn’t, there would be no karate. And, of course, we’re all familiar with being informed of minor updates to the way we’re supposed to be performing specific moves within kata.
That said, there are changes that should be considered unacceptable to students of the traditional martial arts, as when someone teaches a sloppy version of a kata or adapts it to make it flashier simply for show. This version of “Sanchin”, for example, ought to make anyone cringe:
Tradition and precision are extremely important. I simply mean to say that it is inevitable that minor differences will arise, intentionally or not, even among dedicated, highly skilled, and well-trained martial artists. This is even true among students who trained directly with a style’s creator, as I noted elsewhere. The key is to learn a particular version and to work hard on doing it properly as per the instructions you receive, while also recognizing that other students may learn things in a slightly different way.
So, what about the people who don’t get this and post inane comments on YouTube? Well, in general I think these tend to students with fairly limited knowledge. They know enough to spot differences, but not enough to understand why those differences my exist. Generally speaking, highly trained martial artists recognize that every martial art has pros and cons, and that there is a lot of history behind why there are multiple styles and slightly different versions of kata.
To paraphrase J.M. Barrie, well-trained martial artists aren’t inexperienced enough to know everything.
One of the first “techniques” that one must learn in karate is how to tie one’s belt (obi). Like most techniques, it can be rather confusing and counterintuitive at first but it becomes second nature with continued practice.
Surprise, surprise: there are different ways to tie one’s obi and alternative explanations for why one should use one method or another. This video shows two of the most common methods (courtesy of YouTube user trosanelli).
So, in this case, there is a “basic” method and an “advanced” method, but I will simply refer to them as the “crossed” versus “uncrossed” methods. The “crossed” method may be slightly easier for people to learn and it is simpler to get the ends of the belt to be the same length. However, it results in the belt crossing over on the back. The “uncrossed” method requires a bit more practice but it keeps the belt from crossing over at the back. I use the uncrossed method. I was taught previously that the belt should not cross at the back, as this looks “less disciplined”, but I think it is mostly a matter of preference that probably varies from dojo to dojo and student to student.
What about the direction of the final knot? The video indicates that this should be open to the left (i.e., “toward the heart”, in folk anatomy), symbolizing an open heart to the martial arts. Funny thing is, I was taught the opposite: the knot should “point toward the heart”. My new dojo uses the “open toward the heart” approach, so I will have to re-train myself to tie it with the knot facing in the opposite direction. However, I don’t think I will switch to the “crossed” method unless this is required, as I do tend to prefer the clean look of an uncrossed obi.
Crossed, uncrossed, open toward heart, pointing toward heart. Even at the most basic level — getting dressed to start training — there are slightly different methods and explanations for why one should do one or the other. My advice is to do whichever your Sensei instructs you to do or whichever you prefer if there are no specific instructions in your dojo. However, one universal is that you should ensure that the ends of your belt are the same length on both sides so that you will not look sloppy.
In the end, it’s what’s inside the belt that counts.
Different martial arts place varying degrees of emphasis on kicks. Taekwondo, for example, focuses largely on kicks — and some pretty fancy and powerful ones at that. Other styles, such as grappling arts like Judo, may not use kicks extensively. Goju-ryu karate does use kicks, although this is often limited to front kicks in the major kata (and even the walking basics may not include side kicks or roundhouse kicks, depending on the school).
As a person with rather long legs, I have always liked kicks. I used to be quite good at them, too. Back in the day, I could hit the top of a door frame with a front kick. I once even kicked the ceiling of an elevator when some friends challenged me to see if I could. Of course, kicks like that have no practical utility — they’re purely for fun (and maybe a little for show). And I certainly can’t do that anymore.
Students in karate are often taught that there are four parts to a kick. 1) The knee comes up, 2) The kick extends, 3) The leg returns to the “chamber” with the knee bent, 4) The foot returns to the ground. To hammer this point home, we would sometimes be instructed to hold each position (go ahead and try holding your leg out straight for a minute). Once, when I was a brown belt and assisting with a kids’ class, Sensei had me do step 1 of a kick (knee brought up) and hold it. He then placed his cup of coffee on my knee and proceeded to walk around talking to the students, returning occasionally for a sip, then replacing it on my knee. I didn’t spill it — and needless to say, I gained a good appreciation for bringing the knee up at the beginning of a kick.
In Goju-ryu, most of the major kicks start with the knee being brought up, including front kicks, side kicks, and roundhouse kicks. One advantage of this is that it is very difficult for an opponent to predict which kick you will throw because they all look the same at first. Where things differ among styles (and even within Goju-ryu) is which part of the foot one uses to deliver the kick. In the past, I learned to perform front kicks using the ball of the foot, and side kicks with the “blade” of the foot. (Roundhouse kicks used either the instep or the ball of the foot, the latter of which is more difficult to perform). In the Meibukan dojo I am in now, we kick with the heel in both techniques. It’s a minor change overall, but it does take a little adjustment, especially since kicking with the ball or blade is not intuitive and has to be practiced a lot before it becomes automatic. I even used to sit with my foot in blade position while watching TV just to make it feel more natural.
Comfortable? No. But good practice for getting the foot to go into blade position automatically.
I can see advantages to both kicking approaches. Using the ball of the foot provides greater reach and focuses the strike on a smaller area, thereby creating more pressure on impact. It also seems easier to aim versus the heel, but maybe that’s because I am more used to it. On the other hand, kicking with the heel works much better if one is wearing shoes (which we usually are, right?). It is also a harder part of the foot in some ways, and there is less risk of injuring one’s toes if the kick is blocked or improperly executed. Once again, I think it’s a case where the different approaches each have merit and it is useful to train in more than one.
One thing that is new to me in Meibukan Goju-ryu is specific forms of pre-arranged sparring that are included in the basic training. The particular kind in which there is continuous movement is called renzoku kumite, and the first sequence that we learn in Meibukan is Jo-Chu-Ge, or “high, middle, low”. It takes some getting used to at first, so for anyone else who may be learning it, here is the sequence as shown in a video (courtesy of YouTube user gtrplyrTheSecond) and written down step by step.
Attacker
Defender
Bow. Announce Jo Chu Ge.
Bow.
Step back, left fighting stance (hands open).
Ready stance.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left middle block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right middle punch.
Step forward, right sumo stance, right low punch.
Step back, left sumo stance, left low block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, left high punch.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right high block.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right middle block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, middle punch.
Step forward, left sumo stance, left low punch.
Step back, right sumo stance, right low block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right middle block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, left middle punch.
Step back, left sumo stance, left low block.
Step forward, right sumo stance, right low punch.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left middle block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right middle punch.
Step forward, right sumo stance, right low punch.
Step back, left sumo stance, left low block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, left high punch.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right high block.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right middle block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, middle punch.
Step forward, left sumo stance, left low punch.
Step back, right sumo stance, right low block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right middle block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, left middle punch.
Step back, left sumo stance, left low block.
Step forward, right sumo stance, right low punch.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right high punch.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left high block.
Step back, left sanchin dachi, left middle block.
Step forward, right sanchin dachi, right middle punch.
Step forward, right sumo stance, right low punch.
Step back, left sumo stance, left low block.
Step forward, left sanchin dachi, left high punch.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right high block.
Step back, right sanchin dachi, right middle block.
Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu
Kodokan Judo
