Ain’t Got Nuthin’

I injured my left hand. No cool story, just a spazzy day for me. Somehow the ring finger of my left hand got caught in my gi sleeve during a bo kata. Later in the class I managed to clonk it with a tonfa. It didn’t hurt much at the time so I didn’t follow the advice given to me by my Filipino Martial Arts friend Jackie Bradbury. Her advice to squeeze the injured finger does work, it’s just… I didn’t think to do it this time because my finger didn’t hurt much. Later, I regretted it.

I’m also very glad I’m not in the habit of wearing my wedding band. As of this writing, eight days later, the finger is less colorful but still swollen and stiff. I can’t make a proper fist.

And yet… Stupid, stubborn martial artist that I am, I still sparred even though I was injured. Not once, but twice this week.

A friend of mine opens his dojo to trusted martial artists and their senior students for intensive sparring sessions twice each month. I did just fine sparring four days ago (Wednesday). I was careful of my left hand, kept my right foot forward most of the time, and adapted. We spar for two minutes continuously, then one person steps out and another takes their place – so each person goes for two rounds back to back. It’s a time for us to grow in our skills, to work on specific things if we need to, and to experiment. In my case, my only objective that night was to see what happens if one hand is disabled. I did well with adapting and didn’t hurt my hand at all.

I thought I was prepared for yesterday (Saturday). I drove for three hours to attend two belt tests at the Honbu Dojo (headquarters) for the karate organization I belong to. But sparring at belt tests isn’t “conversational.” It’s point-sparring, which means the “conversation” keeps getting interrupted. Not only that, for candidates testing for brown belt and higher each bout goes until the candidate scores a point on their opponent. That opponent exits then immediately the next opponent enters the ring. Depending on rank, age, and gender there can be as few as three opponents or as many as ten.

Sparring with a candidate is completely different from my friend’s intensive sparring sessions. Most of the time I don’t want the point as badly as the candidate because, after all, I’m not the one testing. But there’s still incentive for me to keep the candidate busy at least a little while before they score a point on me. It’s intense and given my injured hand I probably should have stayed on the sidelines.

To my credit I saved myself for one fight. Once all men had cleared the building two ladies in the women-only class tested. One of them I’ve known for years and she was testing for her brown belt. I was second in line to spar with her and I watched her so that I’d know how she moved, what her tactics were, etc. It wasn’t until I stepped up to the line that I realized Wednesday’s “conversational” fighting hadn’t prepared me for fighting with an injured hand against someone who very much wants the bout to be over quickly.

“Oh, crap. I ain’t got nuthin’,” I thought as I stepped to the line.

But in a flash, as I stepped forward with my right leg, keeping my injured hand back, I remembered a lesson I’d taught at the Women-Only class a year or two ago. I had the ladies drill something to do if someone messes with your lead hand during sparring. I have found that using the little push as a cue to launch a reverse punch is very effective, but one needs a partner in order to develop this into a reflexive response. I had the students drill for at least fifteen minutes and hoped this would become a more or less regular drill for them. In that moment as I stepped out towards the candidate I decided my tactic would be simply to see if the candidate remembered this lesson.

With my right hand I tapped the candidate’s glove, pushing her lead hand down a bit, then stepped back quickly to see what she’d do. After seeing her reaction I thought I’d up the ante a bit – do it again and throw a jab from the same hand (my uninjured right hand). The second time I tapped her lead hand she remembered my lesson and immediately launched a reverse punch that scored.

I am super proud of her.

Yeah, it looked like a terrible performance from me. Arguably I shouldn’t have been in the ring at all with my injured hand, especially if I wasn’t prepared for the situation. But then again maybe I was prepared for the situation and just didn’t know it. I did come up with something, after all. Plus I got to experience clear and undeniable evidence that I’d made a difference in someone’s karate journey. And hey, the candidate looked great: honestly, it was her time to shine. That’s what it’s all about. The students. Watching them learn and grow, and helping them along the way motivates me like nothing else can. Sure, karate is fun, but experiencing moments like this? Priceless.

Doing Too Much

Image generated using Adobe Firefly. Modified slightly by JW

In 2014 during my very first Gasshuku (camp/retreat) I asked as many yudansha (black belts) as I could, “If you could tell your lower-ranked self something you’ve learned, what would it be?”

“Relax” was definitely a contender, but the number one answer was, “Don’t abuse your body.”

Fast forward 9 or 10 years… I abused my body.

A few years ago I learned about HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) workouts and had fun crafting them for myself. I even crafted workouts for a Cardio Kickboxing class that I used to lead. Did you catch the word, “fun?”

Yes, working out was fun. But I lost sight of that fun not long after I discovered Tabata workouts. Basically, Tabata is like HIIT on steroids and is much more rigidly defined. Recently I read different arguments both for and against Tabata, and concluded Tabata is OK in the right context. For about three years, Tabata did seem to work for me. It worked until I wanted to push past my peak.

I didn’t realize I was at top capacity and had held it for longer than is healthy. One isn’t meant to stay at the peak for more than a couple of weeks. Usually athletes work up to top capacity, peaking just before a big event. They don’t stay at top capacity year round. I know I am far healthier than the average adult my age but I am not and will never again be twenty years old. For the first time in my karate journey I recently came to the realization that I need to take my age into consideration.

For the past four years I’ve been eating less food and a much higher percentage of fruit and vegetables. After I started Tabata workouts I exercised more and more and more, and… In the last year or so my waistline ballooned and my weight skyrocketed. There are medical reasons for this, and I won’t go into them here, but suffice it to say it’s not a good situation. I’m going to pursue more answers from my doctor soon. But first, I had to get over a bad knee. Yes, weight was a factor with my knee, but that’s not the whole picture.

My knee troubles started in mid-October 2024 after a three-hour drive. I hadn’t made my usual stops along the way, so perhaps that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I changed into my gi, stepped out on the mats, began a gentle warm up and felt the first sharp twinges. I tested the knee’s capabilities. I couldn’t do any deep stances but I told myself I wasn’t testing for my next belt rank that morning so I didn’t need deep stances. I tried out a few sparring moves and concluded I’d be OK sparring with the candidates. I wasn’t about to miss out on that after driving for three hours!

I had fun and did well in sparring that day but it came with a price. I knew it would but I didn’t anticipate how long I would hurt afterwards. The weeks ticked by and I kept waiting for the knee to get better. It didn’t. Then the other side of my knee started hurting too. I kept waiting for it to get better. I even cross trained in Tai Chi and Kung Fu and competed in a tournament. But all these adventures eventually caught up with me.

I started doing less and less in class, opting instead to help teach. My practice time became walking through kata without proper stances. Climbing and descending the stairs in my home became quite challenging. I stopped walking the dog. Finally one night in mid March 2025 every part of my body from my waist down – both sides of my body – hurt so badly I couldn’t sleep. I made an appointment with my doctor. She sent me off to get X-rays and physical therapy. I was scared I’d done permanent damage to my knee. The X-rays reassured me because they showed my bones are normal. I was optimistic about physical therapy.

My sensei, other karateka plus a friend who is both a yudansha (black belt) and a physiotherapist all advised me to do exactly what my physical therapist said to do. No more, no less. I was glad for that advice because otherwise I would have been tempted to put the physical therapy exercises into a Tabata format and, thus, overdo it. I’m glad I followed instructions to the letter. I was astonished at the rapid gains I made during the six weeks I was in physical therapy. Of course a good bit of the magic lay in the very specific exercises. But the key was doing just the right amount of exercise. I started having fun again.

“Did you just say, ‘Whee’?” My therapist laughed during one session.

Yes indeed I had said, “Whee!” Many times during my sessions my therapist and I laughed and joked. She got to know that if I grinned it meant that I’d given the students at my dojo the exact same instructions. Breathe. Soft bend in the knees. Stack these parts of your body (in alignment both with gravity and with one another). But as much as my physical therapist and I had in common, I had much to learn from her.

Sure I learned some dandy exercises, and on more than one occasion I told my physical therapist I could use something or other as part of warming up a karate class. But more importantly I learned Tabata really isn’t for me. I reclaimed the fun of coming up with a variety of HIIT workouts for myself. I gained back some of my time because each of these HIIT workouts are shorter than the Tabata workouts I used to do. I can spend that time on karate.

In the weeks to come I will rebuild my karate from the ground up. Last week I found there are a few transitions in kata, a few of my habits in sparring, and a couple of things in kobudo (weapons) which tweak my knee if I’m not careful to do everything correctly. Now is my chance to fix these bad habits. My karate will be better than it was before my knee started giving me trouble. The old adage, “Work smarter not harder,” is absolutely true, especially for those of us who are over half a century old.

2/15/25 Tournament: New Experiences & Closure

Wooden chest image generated by Adobe Firefly

This was my second time at a tournament which is held about an hour’s drive from home. It’s a little different from the tournaments I’m used to. Instead of sparring competition our hosts hold seminars in the morning before the kata (forms) competition. There are a few other differences in how the divisions are organized and scores are used instead of flags. This tournament also welcomes competitors from other martial arts. Last year I made friends with a Kung-Fu sifu and his students, which led to me doing a little cross-training.

It’s always refreshing to see things through the lens of other karate styles and even through the lens of other martial arts. This year I realized I am also seeing things through my own lens and that lens is changing as I learn and grow. During the seminars I connected the material presented to the kata (forms) I’ve memorized over the years. For example, a seminar on pressure points went deeper than just the novelty of the “BZZAP” sensation caused by the instructor demonstrating pressure points on me. We were encouraged to think about the “bonus points*” any given movement in a kata might be targeting. A seminar on self defense within kata prompted me to think about where kata might show I’m evading someone. I’m an aggressive fighter who likes to work close in, so my bunkai (interpretation of kata) has been slanted that way. Obviously I need to expand my understanding to include different modes of thought than my own. I’m sure if life were like cartoons there would have been light bulbs going off over my head nearly constantly. I have loads of food for thought. What might I have gleaned if I were fixated on another aspect of my art? Probably quite a lot! Maybe next year the lens I’m looking through will be different again.

The tournament itself was great. I didn’t place in any of the three divisions I entered, but I had some personal firsts.

This is a tonfa.
Me (left) & my teammates

My first time competing in synchronized kata (forms) was also my first time competing in weapons kata. A little background. I’d had a taste of kobudo via online classes through the karate organization I belong to. I wanted more, so I joined a kobudo class at a friend’s dojo (school). Sometime in the Autumn my kobudo sensei (instructor) challenged three of us to not only learn a tonfa kata (see picture) but also to learn to synchronize our movements. My team-mates also had a first – this was their first tournament. Our scores were good, and exactly what I was expecting given that we’d only been working on the kata twice a week for about three months. Certainly pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones was a great experience.

The second division I competed in was individual weapons. This was my first time performing bo (long staff) kata in tournament. I earned somewhat higher scores than I was expecting. There’s definitely room for improvement. The kata I chose is pretty advanced (Shushi no Kon Dai). I could have chosen an “easier” kata, but… I was working around a problem with my left knee and couldn’t hit one of the required stances just right in an “easier” kata that I’ve memorized. Not only that but Shushi no Kon Dai just “feels” more like the advanced empty-hand kata(s) I’ve worked with for most of the last ten years. It’s always best to go with a kata that speaks to you, that you know you can throw your heart and fire and passion into. I need that fire in order to practice the kata enough to prepare for tournaments.

I threw my soul into the empty-hand kata I performed. Its name is Aoyanagi and this was the first time in roughly 39 years that I’d performed it in tournament. At that long-ago tournament I stepped out with the wrong leg on the first movement of Aoyanagi. My teenage self was absolutely mortified at the mistake. Several months later I quit karate . A couple of years or so into my present karate journey I re-learned Aoyanagi thanks to Sensei YouTube. I haven’t presented Aoyanagi in tournament because I had other kata to choose from. This tournament season I can’t do justice to most of my kata due to my bad knee. Aoyanagi accommodates the knee. But more than that, as I considered which kata to prepare, I realized performing Aoyanagi would bring me peace about the long-ago mistake. My scores were good, a little higher than I expected, but this wasn’t about the scores. This performance was all about closure (for lack of a better word). I’m at peace about that long-ago mistake. I think my teenage self would be astounded and proud.

It was quite the day. Knowledge learned, even when filtered through a lens, is still knowledge gained. Three personal firsts is quite an accomplishment for a tournament. In future seminars I’ll think about how my perspective has changed. In future competitions I’ll look for more “firsts,” which might be more subtle than the “firsts” I had at this tournament. I’ll remember that sometimes it’s possible to gain closure from long-ago mistakes. I know this can be a hot-button topic, but I do like the “participation medal” I received because this little memento reminds me of everything I learned and, yes, accomplished that day.

—–

*The seminar instructor calls pressure points, “bonus points” because they’re very difficult to hit.

Kung Fu & Tai Chi

I first met Sifu Matthew Stone of Three Lakes Kung Fu and Tai Chi at a seminar held in conjunction with a tournament I’d never been to before. I was impressed with his teaching on body dynamics and I had the fun of both watching him and his students compete in forms. Indeed, I competed against Sifu Stone in the “black belt division” later on (forms only). I think we both won because as he and I chatted after the competition I started counting him among my friends. A few months later I noticed he was scheduled to begin teaching at a rec center about an hour’s drive away. I asked if I could be among the newbies walking in for their very first classes and Sifu Stone enthusiastically said I was welcome to train.

I spent two hours in Sifu Stone’s classes. From the rec center’s website:

Classes on Traditional Chinese/Taiwanese martial arts, including Shaolinquan (Shaolin Boxing), the traditional soldier/bodyguard arts of Xingyiquan (Mind Intent Boxing) and Baguazhang (Eight Trigrams Palm), and the martial arts aspects of Taijiquan (Grand Ultimate Boxing), as taught within the Chen Pan-ling Family Lineage. These classes focus on the martial arts aspect of these styles, the application of movements for self-defense application, and their life-enhancing practice.

The only other newbie who walked in the door for the first hour (Kung Fu) was a lady who came in to learn “whatever you have to teach me.” She did cite the self defense aspect as one of her primary goals and expressed a little concern about her age. I normally don’t speak up when I’m not teaching, but I wanted to encourage her by pointing out that I was roughly her age when I started Karate. I wasn’t wearing my regalia, just a simple T-shirt and sweat pants, so the new student wouldn’t have known I’m a yudansha (black belt in karate) if Sifu hadn’t already introduced me. I was tempted to say, “I’m you in ten years,” but I didn’t. There will be some parallels, yes, but she will have her own unique journey.

For both classes Sifu Stone divided his attention between newbies and his long-time students (who I’d also met and seen at the tournament). I realized later that I was setting an example for the newbies by keeping on with the assigned drills until Sifu came around to us again. Once I got home I wrote down all the teaching techniques I could remember. Aligning the body, isolating a movement, generating power – these are all universal to martial arts. Indeed, a few days later I used one of Sifu Stone’s teaching tools for some of the karate students. The more teaching tools I have in my toolbox the better. If a student doesn’t respond to one way of teaching something it’s up to me to keep trying different teaching methods until something clicks. And the same goes for teaching myself.

After everyone had left, Sifu Stone spent a good long time giving me a boost for my own practice and growth as a martial artist. I’d noticed Sifu practicing with a long, thin spear – but a thrust is a thrust no matter if it’s done with a spear or a bo (long staff) so I asked for help. Yes, I got help with one technique, but most of the help I received was in the form of pointing me in the right direction for teaching myself.

Up until now I’ve been wanting to explore application of kata (forms) and individual techniques but I was looking to others to provide it. Videos, style books, asking one of my sensei – those are valuable pursuits to be sure, but coming up with answers for oneself is a whole other level of reaching an understanding of not only the techniques, not just self defense, but also of oneself. Sifu Stone said of my Shodan (1st degree black belt) status, “You graduated from high school. Welcome to college.”

“So that means I’ve got these textbooks, my kata,” I replied, “What I do with this material is up to me.”

“Exactly.”

For the last few years I have had the attitude that I can do whatever I want in my own personal practice time. There is no doubt that attitude saw me through the pandemic, when training options were limited. After talking with Sifu Stone I realized I have been focusing too much on technical perfection. In the last couple of months prior I actually came very close to burning myself out. Now, instead of spending time trying to get the details right on all my kata I picked one kata and am spending time exploring the applications. I’ll probably need to add the technical practice back in closer to the next tournament, but I have a feeling I won’t be as frustrated if I can’t get something exactly right. I do still practice all my kata (forms) so I don’t forget them. I also work on one or two basics if I feel that I’m slipping into bad habits. But I’ve shifted from the “how” to the “why.”

In karate we have a concept called shu-ha-ri. Shu – follow the rules. Ha – break the rules. Ri – make the rules your own. I have a feeling I shifted into “Ha” territory. Here’s Sifu Stone’s take on shu-ha-ri from his follow-up email.

I’m very familiar with Shu-Ha-Ri, and I use that concept with my students frequently.

Conform yourself to the school/style/technique; force your body to execute according to the principles.

Internalize the lessons so they are indistinguishable from your natural state.

Express yourself freely through technique, understanding that you’ve “become one” with the principles, and everything else no longer really matters…

So if you haven’t guessed by now learning cool new moves from other martial arts isn’t my primary goal. Sure, learning new techniques is fun but I want to move beyond what my American Kenpo friend calls, “Monkey see, monkey do.” I’m seeking answers wherever I can find them. And sometimes seeking answers leads to questions that I didn’t know I should be asking. And, as always, whenever I cross train I often hear the late Professor Remy Presas whispering, “It is all the same.” In that moment that whisper tells me I’m learning something about Karate.

Exploring American Kenpo

FPfennig, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

A friend of mine invited me to learn “Checking Hands,” an exercise frequently done in the American Kenpo school where he studies. I met up with him for a lesson. I’d already done “Sticky Hands” a few times, which was a good place to start. Gradually my friend led me to more and more aspects of this close-range exercise… Well, actually… In “Checking Hands,” one can play with distance too. Not to mention a third dimension in the form of ducking and slipping. The most marked attribute of karate sparring is darting in and out. “Checking Hands” introduced me to a close-in, three-dimensional approach to engaging in a combat art. And I gained a little insight into the karate kata (forms) that I’ve memorized.

Over time, I became more confident with bringing in elements from my karate kata to the “Checking Hands” exercise. The most frequent techniques I tried were from the Goju-ryu style kata(s) which I’ve memorized. Perhaps I was responding to some of the circular techniques my friend employed (Goju-ryu is known for circular motions). I felt validated in my bunkai (interpretation of kata/forms) of all the kata I’ve learned no matter what style I’ve learned for executing them. Offhand I can’t think of any of my bunkai which doesn’t involve being up-close and personal with my imaginary opponent. And because I absolutely love bunkai the hour I spent with my friend went very quickly.

I was intrigued and wanted to know and do more.

My friend invited me to the school where he studies and of course I accepted. I arrived a bit early, already ready to go, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. This was, after all, a different art and I was a guest. My gi (uniform) and obi (belt) are regalia, and there’s etiquette surrounding time and place for wearing these things. In T-shirt and sweatpants I stood out, but only as a beginner in any martial art stands out. And that’s exactly what I was – a first-timer.

That said I did hear the late Professor Remy Presas whispering, “It is all the same…” https://www.thestickchick.com/post/it-really-is-all-the-same

Yes there were familiar elements and even familiar techniques; so familiar that I had the Japanese names flitting through my mind.

In fact we did one of my favorite sparring tricks as a line drill. I doubt anyone but my friend knew the combination is a favorite of mine. The American Kenpo sensei (instructor) had his own take and his own way of teaching it. I usually set someone up for this with a fake. We didn’t do a fake – this was a simple line drill with a specific purpose. The sensei had us over-extend the reverse-punch in order for us to really feel the forward momentum used to execute the roundhouse kick. I have thrown this combination hundreds of times over the years, perhaps thousands: in the air, hitting a bag, sparring in class, sparring in tournaments, and sparring with my friend. I’ve even taught this to students. But I’ve never bothered to dissect it, to stretch it beyond “normal” parameters, to understand the body dynamics involved. I should incorporate such exploration into my personal practice.

For part of the class my friend worked with me one-on-one, introducing me to commonly taught sequences and their applications. He did these sequences to me (gently of course) and I tried them on him. My friend’s explanations were peppered with concepts like “shearing force” and creating “zones of obscurity.” Creating “blind spots” where someone doesn’t see the next technique coming is something that deserves more of my attention not just for my sparring, but also for my bunkai. My friend taught about using body dynamics to more effectively and rapidly launch the next technique. And the next. I can definitely bring that to all aspects of my karate.

During the last part of the class I watched the class run through forms one right after the other. American Kenpo forms are short in duration. My friend told me that hands-on learning is an integral part of memorizing the forms. This resonates with me because I quite often teach bunkai in conjunction with teaching kata. I have a long way to go before I research and test every kata I’ve memorized, but my visit to the American Kenpo school has given me a bit more motivation to do some deep dives into, at the very least, the kata I most often teach and the kata(s) I need to present at my next belt test.

I was honored when, after walking me to my car, the instructor invited me back. I absolutely will take him up on it sometime.