Wonderful weapons class today. I noticed that our chief instructor usually does not teach weapons class. I think in the time that I've been at the dojo, and because I don't always go to class, I have only seen him teach one weapons class. I think he prefers to teach open hand.
Our "regular" instructor taught a wonderful class today. Yes, it was very basic. We reviewed a few of the suburi for bo and some for jo, and saw the connection between the two. Nice. We also practiced the two (three and four, I think) suburi as partner practice. They go together nicely with one as uke and the other as nage. Uke would strike three times, nage would block and end with a wrist cut. My partner and I were going all the way back and fourth on the mat, so each would get in five or six cuts before we had to stop. At first we were just going through the two suburi, then we held ourselves to the three strikes and the one cut before we changed roles. Sensei had the two of us show the rest of the class (I guess) how it was "supposed" to look, although he still had some corrections to make. Mostly we were using a part of the blade that was a little too far back, rather than just the few inches at the top of the bo.
After, we practiced the 31 jo kata. I like that kata. I need to learn it on my own through YouTube, I suppose, because I'd like to be able to practice the entire kata on my own. Right now I know the first six moves. It doesn't sound like much, and it certainly doesn't seem like much, but it is a start. And we all have to start somewhere.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Break Falls
I am not a fan of break falls. I first learned to do them about 35 years ago, when I studied Tomiki Aikido. We learned them from kote gaeshi. It's been about that many years since I've done them. Going into last night's class, I was in no way expecting that we were going to focus on techniques that required a break fall.
I missed Tuesday's class, because I spent the day working out in our yard. I cut the grass, and finished the small retaining wall in the back yard. Silly, I know; it was only eight blocks that sat just above, and a few inches behind, the other eight blocks I'd laid about two weeks ago. Since that time we've had some very warm, humid weather, and enough rain that our basement had seeping water more than once. I'd drenched myself in sweat throughout the morning, and my hands hurt from carrying and placing the blocks. Arthritis is not fun. My recommendation is not to get old. I did, however, end the day with a feeling of accomplishment, since my wife had been asking me to take care of the wall. I did not like looking at the extra long grass in the yard. Still, when 7:30 came, and I was sitting on the sofa, I had that awful feeling I get when I am not in class. If you think about Martin Sheen's opening dialogue in "Apocalypse Now" where he explains that not being in the bush means that Charlie is getting stronger while he is getting weaker, you'll get the idea.
Last night I was determined to go. And I did. We would work on a technique using regular ukemi, then ramp up the technique so that uke had to do a break fall. We did shiho-nage first. My take away from it was that during a "normal" (and I use that word advisedly) shiho-nage, I would do a back fall or back roll. Last night nage cranked uke's arm out to the side a bit after the irimi step so that a break fall was the only way to go. As uke, I really had to work hard to position myself so that I could face nage just as I was going into the break fall. It was the turn that gave me a bit of trouble. With nage so close to me, it was difficult to get my elbow over nage's shoulder, and make the turn to face him so that I could fall the proper way. What I noted was that once I did the first break fall, I had little trouble going into the others.
We also worked on two different versions of koshi nage that were almost exactly like the Yamada sensei video I posted on my last entry. We did the technique to both sides.
On both techniques I was honestly okay with doing break falls. My only hesitation was on the first fall. Once I got that one under by belt, I was okay with doing the rest of them. And there were plenty more to do.
Unfortunately, on one of my koshi nage break falls, something happened. I don't know if I did something wrong, or my nage did something different that caused me to do something wrong. Whatever it was, I landed flat on my back. I felt my neck snap back like I was in a rear-end collision in my car. I felt the back of my head bounce off the mat, then I felt a spasm of some sort start at my neck muscles on the left, and travel down my right arm to my elbow. Ouch.
I stood off to the side for about a minute to let the feeling pass. Once it did I got back on the mat and took another break fall or two just to get back "on the horse." Luckily I could feel that I'd be sore today, but that my injury was not serious.
Today my neck is sore on the left side, but otherwise I'm good.
I missed Tuesday's class, because I spent the day working out in our yard. I cut the grass, and finished the small retaining wall in the back yard. Silly, I know; it was only eight blocks that sat just above, and a few inches behind, the other eight blocks I'd laid about two weeks ago. Since that time we've had some very warm, humid weather, and enough rain that our basement had seeping water more than once. I'd drenched myself in sweat throughout the morning, and my hands hurt from carrying and placing the blocks. Arthritis is not fun. My recommendation is not to get old. I did, however, end the day with a feeling of accomplishment, since my wife had been asking me to take care of the wall. I did not like looking at the extra long grass in the yard. Still, when 7:30 came, and I was sitting on the sofa, I had that awful feeling I get when I am not in class. If you think about Martin Sheen's opening dialogue in "Apocalypse Now" where he explains that not being in the bush means that Charlie is getting stronger while he is getting weaker, you'll get the idea.
Last night I was determined to go. And I did. We would work on a technique using regular ukemi, then ramp up the technique so that uke had to do a break fall. We did shiho-nage first. My take away from it was that during a "normal" (and I use that word advisedly) shiho-nage, I would do a back fall or back roll. Last night nage cranked uke's arm out to the side a bit after the irimi step so that a break fall was the only way to go. As uke, I really had to work hard to position myself so that I could face nage just as I was going into the break fall. It was the turn that gave me a bit of trouble. With nage so close to me, it was difficult to get my elbow over nage's shoulder, and make the turn to face him so that I could fall the proper way. What I noted was that once I did the first break fall, I had little trouble going into the others.
We also worked on two different versions of koshi nage that were almost exactly like the Yamada sensei video I posted on my last entry. We did the technique to both sides.
On both techniques I was honestly okay with doing break falls. My only hesitation was on the first fall. Once I got that one under by belt, I was okay with doing the rest of them. And there were plenty more to do.
Unfortunately, on one of my koshi nage break falls, something happened. I don't know if I did something wrong, or my nage did something different that caused me to do something wrong. Whatever it was, I landed flat on my back. I felt my neck snap back like I was in a rear-end collision in my car. I felt the back of my head bounce off the mat, then I felt a spasm of some sort start at my neck muscles on the left, and travel down my right arm to my elbow. Ouch.
I stood off to the side for about a minute to let the feeling pass. Once it did I got back on the mat and took another break fall or two just to get back "on the horse." Luckily I could feel that I'd be sore today, but that my injury was not serious.
Today my neck is sore on the left side, but otherwise I'm good.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Saturday
Okay, I'll admit: I didn't stick around for the weapons class afterward, but the one-hour open hand class was terrific.
One thing I have learned is not to show up too early on Saturday. On this particular Saturday I showed up at 9:45 for a 10:00 class. Bad form, one might say, as that's too late to help move the tables and set up the mats. The dojo belongs to all of us, and we all need to help with its maintenance.
The chief instructor showed up at 9:55. He was the only one with the key. What's the point of showing up at the dojo early just to wait around 20 minutes to get it? It's not like occasionally someone shows up early with a key, and we all get in by 9:15 to start setting up. No. Never. At best, early means 9:30, but that only happens in the winter.
Doesn't matter, though. We spent an hour practicing a variety of techniques from ryotatori (two hands grab two wrists). It was fun. I had fun, I had good endurance, and my techniques were working smoothly and effectively. It doesn't get too much better than that for me.
One thing I have learned is not to show up too early on Saturday. On this particular Saturday I showed up at 9:45 for a 10:00 class. Bad form, one might say, as that's too late to help move the tables and set up the mats. The dojo belongs to all of us, and we all need to help with its maintenance.
The chief instructor showed up at 9:55. He was the only one with the key. What's the point of showing up at the dojo early just to wait around 20 minutes to get it? It's not like occasionally someone shows up early with a key, and we all get in by 9:15 to start setting up. No. Never. At best, early means 9:30, but that only happens in the winter.
Doesn't matter, though. We spent an hour practicing a variety of techniques from ryotatori (two hands grab two wrists). It was fun. I had fun, I had good endurance, and my techniques were working smoothly and effectively. It doesn't get too much better than that for me.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Running Out of Air
Maybe it was the fact that I skipped class on Tuesday. Maybe it was the heat in the dojo last night. Maybe it's because I'm getting old, but there was one point in class where I really ran out of gas.
I had a plumbing problem on Tuesday that took much of the day. By the time I had things under control, I was too tired to make it to class. I hate not going to class. I was exhausted the other night, but my imaginary class ran through my head the way it always does on Tuesdays, or Thursdays, or Saturdays when I'm not there. 7:30 rolls around, and it clicks in my head that everyone else is bowing in. Sometime around eight, I'll look at the clock and wonder what technique they're working on. 8:30? Ah, they must be bowing out, except that we're not bowing out until almost 9:00 these days. Oh, maybe that's it. Maybe class is going longer, so it's taking more out of me. That, and the heat, perhaps.
One really good thing about last night was that I had the opportunity to work with every body on the mat. I'm guessing that everybody else did the same. That meant about ten "gozaimas'ta"(s) with the bow at the end of class. But it also meant that I had the chance to work with beginners, intermediate students, and advance students - even though we are all "beginners" in Aikido.
The downside was that I had to work with one fifth kyu student who has this annoying habit of taking any technique that involves a throw, and turning it into a break fall opportunity. We were working on a type of koshinage from a ryotatori (two hands on two wrists). Our technique was sort of like this, except instead of using our hips to throw, we went down on one knee, and brought uke over our head in to a forward roll.
Whenever this guy did the technique to me, he kept holding on to my wrists and pulling them in towards him as I went down. The result of this meant that my shoulder was the first thing to hit the ground, as the rest of me flipped forward; almost a break fall. I don't mind break falls. As a matter of fact, I've gotten much better at them, but I still don't like doing them. I also worked with this same guy on a different technique that involved a similar type of throw, and he did the same thing to me on that one, too. Instead of letting go of my leading arm so I could go easily into a roll, he held on to it, and actually pulled up on it, which increased my rolling momentum, putting me into a break fall. Ah, well, I'll try to work around him the next class or two. Or I could just work with him on techniques that don't involve throws.
I also discovered that if I wait more towards the end of class to work with our class' shodan, it works better for me. By the last half of class, he's tired. He has a medical issue which limits his endurance. Now that I've discovered that, it's easier to work with him later on. This guy knows his techniques from the Ueshiba Schools of Aikido, and to say that he is wicked is an understatement. I don't know if everyone from that style is as intense has he is, but he is certainly a force to be reckoned with.
So despite my lack of "wind," it was a good class. It was sweaty and intense, but the mood through class was good. Everybody worked up to their potential (it seemed with me, anyway), and I felt that I made some improvements along the way.
Earlier yesterday, I met the girl who will be my student teacher for the fall. I like her. I don't know how well she teaches yet, but that's the point, I think. It reminds me of Aikido. We practice again and again, and eventually we begin to see little improvements. When we start to add up all the little improvements, we realize how far we've come along the path.
Hiya Meshi o Michi
- Uruwashii
I had a plumbing problem on Tuesday that took much of the day. By the time I had things under control, I was too tired to make it to class. I hate not going to class. I was exhausted the other night, but my imaginary class ran through my head the way it always does on Tuesdays, or Thursdays, or Saturdays when I'm not there. 7:30 rolls around, and it clicks in my head that everyone else is bowing in. Sometime around eight, I'll look at the clock and wonder what technique they're working on. 8:30? Ah, they must be bowing out, except that we're not bowing out until almost 9:00 these days. Oh, maybe that's it. Maybe class is going longer, so it's taking more out of me. That, and the heat, perhaps.
One really good thing about last night was that I had the opportunity to work with every body on the mat. I'm guessing that everybody else did the same. That meant about ten "gozaimas'ta"(s) with the bow at the end of class. But it also meant that I had the chance to work with beginners, intermediate students, and advance students - even though we are all "beginners" in Aikido.
The downside was that I had to work with one fifth kyu student who has this annoying habit of taking any technique that involves a throw, and turning it into a break fall opportunity. We were working on a type of koshinage from a ryotatori (two hands on two wrists). Our technique was sort of like this, except instead of using our hips to throw, we went down on one knee, and brought uke over our head in to a forward roll.
Whenever this guy did the technique to me, he kept holding on to my wrists and pulling them in towards him as I went down. The result of this meant that my shoulder was the first thing to hit the ground, as the rest of me flipped forward; almost a break fall. I don't mind break falls. As a matter of fact, I've gotten much better at them, but I still don't like doing them. I also worked with this same guy on a different technique that involved a similar type of throw, and he did the same thing to me on that one, too. Instead of letting go of my leading arm so I could go easily into a roll, he held on to it, and actually pulled up on it, which increased my rolling momentum, putting me into a break fall. Ah, well, I'll try to work around him the next class or two. Or I could just work with him on techniques that don't involve throws.
I also discovered that if I wait more towards the end of class to work with our class' shodan, it works better for me. By the last half of class, he's tired. He has a medical issue which limits his endurance. Now that I've discovered that, it's easier to work with him later on. This guy knows his techniques from the Ueshiba Schools of Aikido, and to say that he is wicked is an understatement. I don't know if everyone from that style is as intense has he is, but he is certainly a force to be reckoned with.
So despite my lack of "wind," it was a good class. It was sweaty and intense, but the mood through class was good. Everybody worked up to their potential (it seemed with me, anyway), and I felt that I made some improvements along the way.
Earlier yesterday, I met the girl who will be my student teacher for the fall. I like her. I don't know how well she teaches yet, but that's the point, I think. It reminds me of Aikido. We practice again and again, and eventually we begin to see little improvements. When we start to add up all the little improvements, we realize how far we've come along the path.
Hiya Meshi o Michi
- Uruwashii
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Another New Guy and an Old Guy
I've been a member of my current dojo since October 2008, although I cannot believe it has been that long. If I'm not mistaken, and at my age I probably am, this is the longest continuous period of time that I've studied Aikido. I studied Tomiki Aikido in high school for about this long, but perhaps not. While in college I studied at a dojo affiliated with the American Aikido Association dojo in Chicago run by Toyodo Sensei prior to his untimely death from an infection. That lasted about as long as this, but again, perhaps not.
Ours is a small dojo. I believe there were three regular members prior to my joining in 2008. The sign in sheet lists many names, but again, only three showed up regularly - and that included the instructor. There were many days when, according to the people who were there, that there were only two people at a practice: The instructor, and one student.
From what I am told, the dojo began to grown about the same time I joined. Around the same time I joined the dojo, a 1st kyu also joined. We are on our second person who has joined the military, mostly as a result of unemployment. The sign in sheet lists everyone who has ever joined the dojo since its inception in 2002. Many people came, they practiced, they disappeared. Right now we have - more or less - 12 regular member who may practice at any one time. It can become a very crowded mat. These 12 are split nearly evenly with six members being those who have returned after absences, and another six, including me, who are new since '08. Most of the "new" six are new members as of this year.
Today was a perfect example of the blend of old and new. Our chief instructor led the class. He is a fourth dan from the Midwest Aikido Center in Chicago. Our three brown belts included one person who was original from '02, another from '08 (around my time), and another who just joined last week. Today's blue belts included me (from '08), and a fourth kyu who is joining us from Cincinnati. There was also a fifth kyu from the dojo's early days, and two more fifth kyu students who joined last year as beginners.
It was a terrific class today. All open hand techniques. Practice was fairly intense, but not so much that I'll feel exhausted all day. Sensei used me as uke for one set of techniques. I really like it when I get the opportunity to work with Sensei during demonstrations. I work as hard as I can to stay relaxed and be a good uke, so that Sensei's demonstration is good. At one point during this particular demonstration that I attacked him "tanto, shomen-uchi." He did a kokyu-nage where he has my knife hand (left for example, in his left hand), with my left side to his right side (we are facing the same direction), while his right hand comes up under my chin and puts me into a back ukemi roll. As I go down, he keeps hold of my hand, still holding the tanto (knife). He turns me over, a la kote gaishi pin and takes the knife away.
Once while he had me pinned, he showed the class how Doshu would do the pin. Doshu would make uke drop the knife, then, as Doshu went down on his knees to finish the pin, one of his feet would kick the knife (tanto) so it would go spinning away from uke. It was so cool, that I had to turn my head - a move that is completely not good form - so that I could look at him and watch him kick the knife away. Sometimes you have to use bad form just to see what's going on. It hurts more, but it is really worth it.
Ours is a small dojo. I believe there were three regular members prior to my joining in 2008. The sign in sheet lists many names, but again, only three showed up regularly - and that included the instructor. There were many days when, according to the people who were there, that there were only two people at a practice: The instructor, and one student.
From what I am told, the dojo began to grown about the same time I joined. Around the same time I joined the dojo, a 1st kyu also joined. We are on our second person who has joined the military, mostly as a result of unemployment. The sign in sheet lists everyone who has ever joined the dojo since its inception in 2002. Many people came, they practiced, they disappeared. Right now we have - more or less - 12 regular member who may practice at any one time. It can become a very crowded mat. These 12 are split nearly evenly with six members being those who have returned after absences, and another six, including me, who are new since '08. Most of the "new" six are new members as of this year.
Today was a perfect example of the blend of old and new. Our chief instructor led the class. He is a fourth dan from the Midwest Aikido Center in Chicago. Our three brown belts included one person who was original from '02, another from '08 (around my time), and another who just joined last week. Today's blue belts included me (from '08), and a fourth kyu who is joining us from Cincinnati. There was also a fifth kyu from the dojo's early days, and two more fifth kyu students who joined last year as beginners.
It was a terrific class today. All open hand techniques. Practice was fairly intense, but not so much that I'll feel exhausted all day. Sensei used me as uke for one set of techniques. I really like it when I get the opportunity to work with Sensei during demonstrations. I work as hard as I can to stay relaxed and be a good uke, so that Sensei's demonstration is good. At one point during this particular demonstration that I attacked him "tanto, shomen-uchi." He did a kokyu-nage where he has my knife hand (left for example, in his left hand), with my left side to his right side (we are facing the same direction), while his right hand comes up under my chin and puts me into a back ukemi roll. As I go down, he keeps hold of my hand, still holding the tanto (knife). He turns me over, a la kote gaishi pin and takes the knife away.
Once while he had me pinned, he showed the class how Doshu would do the pin. Doshu would make uke drop the knife, then, as Doshu went down on his knees to finish the pin, one of his feet would kick the knife (tanto) so it would go spinning away from uke. It was so cool, that I had to turn my head - a move that is completely not good form - so that I could look at him and watch him kick the knife away. Sometimes you have to use bad form just to see what's going on. It hurts more, but it is really worth it.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
I Wanna Go Again
Let's just begin by saying, yes, there is air conditioning in the building that houses our dojo. Let me follow that up by saying, no, it's not strong enough to keep us all from sweating. Profusely. Last night was one perfect example of how one person's sweat can double, or even triple, the weight of a gi jacket.
Not only was I sweating, but I was also a bit nauseated. First, I ate a pre-marinated, lemon-pepper flavored pork loin, and I don't think it agreed with me. At all. I ate it on Monday, and my body was still doing things that would have embarrassed me to no end on Tuesday evening. At 6:30 I was still having doubts about going. So I forced myself to go, and I told myself I was going to enjoy it.
Between the heat and the awful rumbling in my gut, I was working hard just to get through the entire workout. Add on to that the intensity of last night's class, and I was nearly ready to call it quits.
Now I feel that I'm in pretty good shape. I can get through a pretty intense practice, and, while breathing hard during some of it, I usually don't have to tell my practice partner to slow down or give me a moment to catch my breath. Last night I felt like an old man.
We had a new person try out a free class last night to see if he wanted to join. He lives south of the border, but, as he related in a recent conversation he had, it makes a whole lot more sense to drive north to our dojo, than drive 50 miles south to the "big city" to attend the Midwest Aikido Center. And oh, by the way, there is no parking at the MAC, so drive around a bunch and see if you get lucky.
So the guy looked to be older than me (51); maybe close to 60. He looked like a middle distance runner: very lean, little body fat to speak of, but with a solid amount of muscle. In other words, he's everything I am not. He's also an ikkyu, but wore his white belt. He and I practiced an entering move from a shomen-uchi that led into a kote-gaeshi. He was very good with terrific endurance. I moved well last night - quick and light - but my endurance suffered due to my stomach trouble. It was nice working with him because we could both practice quickly and with solid ki. He put the hurt on me more than I few times, and I think I did the same for him. In other words, I think we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing.
After we switched partners, though, I saw him working with a couple of the "younger" guys - both fourth kyu students. They were working with this same guy and everybody was doing break falls and there was a lot of mat slamming going on. Geez, I can't keep up with that on my best day. I suppose if I'd been doing this without my 30-year hiatus, I could do that, too. But since I've only picked this up again less than two years ago, and since I have been "blessed" with arthritis and a few other "issues" that make intense practice really painful, I have to pull back a bit. Maybe I am only practicing at 75%. Maybe 75% is wishful thinking and I'm working at a far lower level. Maybe I'm working at a higher level. I am not a good judge of myself. I don't know, but when I practice, I give it whatever it is that I have on that day. That's all I can do.
But after yesterday's class, and unlike the typical feeling that I need a day's recovery between classes, I would love to go back to the dojo again today. Too bad there isn't a class to attend. I am already looking forward to tomorrow's class.
Not only was I sweating, but I was also a bit nauseated. First, I ate a pre-marinated, lemon-pepper flavored pork loin, and I don't think it agreed with me. At all. I ate it on Monday, and my body was still doing things that would have embarrassed me to no end on Tuesday evening. At 6:30 I was still having doubts about going. So I forced myself to go, and I told myself I was going to enjoy it.
Between the heat and the awful rumbling in my gut, I was working hard just to get through the entire workout. Add on to that the intensity of last night's class, and I was nearly ready to call it quits.
Now I feel that I'm in pretty good shape. I can get through a pretty intense practice, and, while breathing hard during some of it, I usually don't have to tell my practice partner to slow down or give me a moment to catch my breath. Last night I felt like an old man.
We had a new person try out a free class last night to see if he wanted to join. He lives south of the border, but, as he related in a recent conversation he had, it makes a whole lot more sense to drive north to our dojo, than drive 50 miles south to the "big city" to attend the Midwest Aikido Center. And oh, by the way, there is no parking at the MAC, so drive around a bunch and see if you get lucky.
So the guy looked to be older than me (51); maybe close to 60. He looked like a middle distance runner: very lean, little body fat to speak of, but with a solid amount of muscle. In other words, he's everything I am not. He's also an ikkyu, but wore his white belt. He and I practiced an entering move from a shomen-uchi that led into a kote-gaeshi. He was very good with terrific endurance. I moved well last night - quick and light - but my endurance suffered due to my stomach trouble. It was nice working with him because we could both practice quickly and with solid ki. He put the hurt on me more than I few times, and I think I did the same for him. In other words, I think we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing.
After we switched partners, though, I saw him working with a couple of the "younger" guys - both fourth kyu students. They were working with this same guy and everybody was doing break falls and there was a lot of mat slamming going on. Geez, I can't keep up with that on my best day. I suppose if I'd been doing this without my 30-year hiatus, I could do that, too. But since I've only picked this up again less than two years ago, and since I have been "blessed" with arthritis and a few other "issues" that make intense practice really painful, I have to pull back a bit. Maybe I am only practicing at 75%. Maybe 75% is wishful thinking and I'm working at a far lower level. Maybe I'm working at a higher level. I am not a good judge of myself. I don't know, but when I practice, I give it whatever it is that I have on that day. That's all I can do.
But after yesterday's class, and unlike the typical feeling that I need a day's recovery between classes, I would love to go back to the dojo again today. Too bad there isn't a class to attend. I am already looking forward to tomorrow's class.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sensei is Cryptic or I am Dense
As I wrote in my last entry, we practiced the 31 Jo Kata at our last class. I had a blast, but it was very challenging for me. I was tired, and I'd never done a jo kata before. A few days later, sensei sent out an email with an attachment from "Fudebukado: The Way of the Exploding Pen." Look it up if you want. Find the "gallery" and look for the 31 jo kata. It's really very funny, and is very much how I am performing the kata at this point. "Sod it. Bow."
I replied to thanked him for the link, as I thought it was pretty funny. I seem to remember seeing it before, but now the cartoon had new meaning, as I could make a "text to self" connection.
He, in turn, replied again to me with the following:
"At your convenience, let's talk about how to align body and mind along the path.
You are a Yudansha .."
I left the line break in, as I thought it was important. The thing is, I am not presently a Yudansha. Rather, I am a Yukyusha - 3rd kyu since March.
I am not sure what he means by this note. Does he think I am improving on a regularly enough basis that one day he is sure I will be a Yudansha? I doubt that he thinks I am ready now, as I leave the dojo frustrated by my technical ability more often than not, yet he writes, "You are a Yudansha." "Are" being the word that creates the most confusion here.
I wish sensei were a little less cryptic. I'd like to know what he means by this, yet I know it would be bad form for me to ask outright. I would not want for either of us to lose face by my clumsy inquiries.
Sod it.
Bow.
I replied to thanked him for the link, as I thought it was pretty funny. I seem to remember seeing it before, but now the cartoon had new meaning, as I could make a "text to self" connection.
He, in turn, replied again to me with the following:
"At your convenience, let's talk about how to align body and mind along the path.
You are a Yudansha .."
I left the line break in, as I thought it was important. The thing is, I am not presently a Yudansha. Rather, I am a Yukyusha - 3rd kyu since March.
I am not sure what he means by this note. Does he think I am improving on a regularly enough basis that one day he is sure I will be a Yudansha? I doubt that he thinks I am ready now, as I leave the dojo frustrated by my technical ability more often than not, yet he writes, "You are a Yudansha." "Are" being the word that creates the most confusion here.
I wish sensei were a little less cryptic. I'd like to know what he means by this, yet I know it would be bad form for me to ask outright. I would not want for either of us to lose face by my clumsy inquiries.
Sod it.
Bow.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Riding 50 Miles
Back in an earlier life I used to ride my bicycle to the tune of about 2,500 miles each year from March through November. A lot of those miles were racked up while on group rides. I admittedly wimped out during the winter. There were many guys who went out in the coldest weather in January, but not me. There was something about riding for hours with snot frozen to my upper lip, my lower lip, my chin, and the front of my jersey that just didn't appeal to me. I also didn't like the idea of freezing my fingers and toes off. When the weather turned cold, I stayed inside, firmly planted to the sofa. I had all the equipment to ride inside, but for me that was about as exciting as cleaning frozen snot off my face.
When we did ride, though, we rode fast. Our rides almost always followed the same 50-mile out-and-back route. By mid summer we'd be up to about a 22 mph average, with sprints reaching up towards 40 mph. The only way I could keep up is by sitting in on the back. Once in a while I'd get into the middle of the pack. I was pretty good at riding shoulder-to-shoulder and wheel-to-wheel, but I've fallen a few time and got some pretty nasty scars on my knees and elbows, I've been hit by a car, and I wiped out once and broke my collar bone. That last one was in 1999. I put the bike away, began my Master's in education, and never looked back. I think back about where I'd be now if I'd started Aikido again back in 1996 rather than getting on the bike. Even so, I'd only have been able to play for three years at the most before I would have had to quit when I returned to school.
The point is that I'm happy that I did things the way I did. I rode in several century rides (100 miles in a single day) - something I never thought I'd do before deciding I'd do it. Getting my Master's allowed me to teach. Teaching means that I haven't "worked" a single day since I started in September 2001 - that's how much I love teaching. Are there frustrations? Of course. But there are challenges in any profession, and if someone can't deal with a few minor challenges, then they have no business being a teacher, or having anything to do with children.
I have my lovely wife. I have my amazing children. I stood by my eldest daughter's side while she studied Tae Kwan Do on Tuesdays and Thursdays, even though I knew there was an Aikido dojo practicing on the same evenings, and there was no way I could do both. When my daughter decided to quit, that was my chance to play Aikido one more time. Now I've been back for about one and one half years, and I'm having fun, and I'm getting better. I'm really starting to get better at Aikido.
The point here is that today we had a two hour weapons class. We worked on happo giri (sic?) hapo giri?; we worked a technique that we did with weapons and open had alternately; and one small part of the 31 jo kata. We worked about six or seven steps with a partner, then ran the whole kata several times by following sensei as he did the entire 31 steps. I don't remember much of what we did any more, but it was fun and I am exhausted. How exhausted? About as exhausted as a 50-mile ride with my group would leave me. And not once did I break a bone or get hit by a car.
When we did ride, though, we rode fast. Our rides almost always followed the same 50-mile out-and-back route. By mid summer we'd be up to about a 22 mph average, with sprints reaching up towards 40 mph. The only way I could keep up is by sitting in on the back. Once in a while I'd get into the middle of the pack. I was pretty good at riding shoulder-to-shoulder and wheel-to-wheel, but I've fallen a few time and got some pretty nasty scars on my knees and elbows, I've been hit by a car, and I wiped out once and broke my collar bone. That last one was in 1999. I put the bike away, began my Master's in education, and never looked back. I think back about where I'd be now if I'd started Aikido again back in 1996 rather than getting on the bike. Even so, I'd only have been able to play for three years at the most before I would have had to quit when I returned to school.
The point is that I'm happy that I did things the way I did. I rode in several century rides (100 miles in a single day) - something I never thought I'd do before deciding I'd do it. Getting my Master's allowed me to teach. Teaching means that I haven't "worked" a single day since I started in September 2001 - that's how much I love teaching. Are there frustrations? Of course. But there are challenges in any profession, and if someone can't deal with a few minor challenges, then they have no business being a teacher, or having anything to do with children.
I have my lovely wife. I have my amazing children. I stood by my eldest daughter's side while she studied Tae Kwan Do on Tuesdays and Thursdays, even though I knew there was an Aikido dojo practicing on the same evenings, and there was no way I could do both. When my daughter decided to quit, that was my chance to play Aikido one more time. Now I've been back for about one and one half years, and I'm having fun, and I'm getting better. I'm really starting to get better at Aikido.
The point here is that today we had a two hour weapons class. We worked on happo giri (sic?) hapo giri?; we worked a technique that we did with weapons and open had alternately; and one small part of the 31 jo kata. We worked about six or seven steps with a partner, then ran the whole kata several times by following sensei as he did the entire 31 steps. I don't remember much of what we did any more, but it was fun and I am exhausted. How exhausted? About as exhausted as a 50-mile ride with my group would leave me. And not once did I break a bone or get hit by a car.
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