Square Dance Fail

A recent blog post by my online friend reminded me of something I forgot to write about quite some time ago.  Last summer my husband and I were invited to try out square dancing lessons.  We could do three free lessons, then decide if it was right for us.  The lessons fit into my Karate schedule, so this was perfect.  My husband and I had thoroughly enjoyed a semester of ballroom and country dancing back in our college days.

Our first square dancing class was not ideal.  It takes eight to make a square.  There were eight people present, and four were new students.  The caller was an hour late, so we spent half the class without music.  That was OK, by then we were up to speed on a few basic calls, so when music was added we had fun.

Grab yer pardner Smash his face Bring yer leg 'round Turn in place Side kick left and Side kick right Do-si-do Hammer fist To yer right!
Grab yer pardner
Smash his face
Bring yer leg ’round
Turn in place
Side kick left and
Side kick right
Do-si-do
Hammer fist
To yer right!

As a martial artist I found it fascinating to be moving cooperatively with a group of people.  I had to continually curb instincts to take advantage of opportunities to throw, joint lock, or strike.  I do have some experience with sparring against two people simultaneously and kata could, if one uses one’s imagination, be a fight against a group of attackers.  Square dance was very different, that’s for sure!

We decided to give the group another chance and went back for a second free class.  This time, the caller was on time, but we didn’t have enough dancers to make a square.  Only two experienced students showed.  The start of class was delayed in hopes more would show up.  I practiced a lot of kata while we waited.  When the caller gave up and started class, we limped along as best we could with what we’d already learned.

I have no idea why my husband and I went back for the third lesson.  The first lesson we wrote of as a fluke.  The second lesson we figured people had stayed home to watch the football game.  We decided to use our last free lesson.  This was it – make it or break it.  Once again we had a dismal turnout with not enough folks to make a square, and only one experienced student.  We quit – the high price tag was not worth it.

It was obvious the senior students were not interested in the success of the beginners.  This is a club that has been around for years and boasts a membership of about thirty people.  I’m betting it’s pretty much the same group that started the club in the first place.

Did you catch that, fellow martial artists?  The more advanced dancers simply weren’t invested in the future of the club.  New students weren’t valued.  We left after only three lessons even though we probably would’ve enjoyed square dancing immensely.  Please teach your senior students the value of coming alongside to help someone who is just starting – even if it’s just to be a partner in a drill or to run through a form before class.

In the Shadow of the Spruce Goose

SprGThe first time I saw the Spruce Goose, the largest airplane ever constructed, was in Long Beach, California.  I think it might have been 1987 and a couple of months prior to that family vacation, I’d made the decision to quit Karate.  If someone had told me then that at age 46 I’d be one belt rank higher and competing against people who significantly outrank me in a tournament held under the tail of the Spruce Goose, I’d have told that person, “You’re crazy.”

Question6_CrazyLife is crazy.

In 1992 the Evergreen Air and Space Museum acquired the Spruce Goose and built a new home for it in Oregon.  Someone got the idea to rent part of the building for a Karate tournament.  As someone I spoke with put it, “I’m spoiled now.  Smelly old college gyms are never going to be the same for me again.”  I agree.  For one thing, there was plenty of daylight – I hate not being able to have at least some natural light.  Best of all, we were surrounded by really awesome airplanes and jets.

Ceinture_De_Karate_Ou_Judo_clip_art_greenI almost cried when I first saw the good ol’ Spruce Goose again after so many years.  I’ve come so far in the last two years.  Even though I’m only one belt rank higher, I’ve done far more than when I was a teenager.  I am more than I ever was.  I understand more but at the same time I’m dimly aware that there is so much that I need to learn.  Yeah, I should not have quit then.  But on the other hand, I would not be having the same adventures I’m having now.

My first lesson from the tournament was during the opening ceremony.  Someone was complimenting the head of the organization that was running the tournament, or maybe it was the head of the entire style that organization studies – I don’t remember.  But what I do remember is the gentleman saying this:  If you say, “I can’t,” a Sensei says, “You can’t?  Oh good!  Let’s get to work!”  Words to live by for sure.

03_Image2As I started practicing my kata on the mats before the tournament began, I noticed a gentleman practicing Rohai Shodan.  I enjoyed watching this gentleman practice because not only am I learning Rohai Shodan for my next belt test, but the gentleman practicing was from a different style and I loved comparing what he was doing to what I was taught.  After the tournament began, we had the same idea – the staging area was not very busy, had plenty of space, and overlooked the main floor, so he and I headed up there to practice while we waited.  The gentleman inspired me with his patient practice, so rather than loaf around, I followed suit.  Both of us settled into our own rhythms of practice, watching the tournament, and walking.  In addition to my kata, I occasionally threw head-level roundhouse kicks at a concrete pillar in order to practice hitting without harming an opponent.

Soon after my division was called to staging, the usual ladies from Oregon trooped in.  Three times now they’ve driven four or more hours to beat me up, so this time I thought I’d make the drive myself so they could beat me up more conveniently.  I have no idea why they weren’t at the last tournament I was in.  That’s the only tournament this season in which I’ve won a medal.  That said, they’re a neat bunch of gals, and it’s a pity we live so far apart.

Photo courtesy of Sami
Photo courtesy of Sami

While we were waiting for the competitors in our assigned ring to finish, I felt an irrational desire to run away.  I breathed deeply and looked up at the tail of the Spruce Goose.  I couldn’t quit, not with that huge tangible reminder of all the could-have-beens and all the regrets.  I thought to myself, “I’ve come way too far to back out now.  I’ve got to trust my training.”  I looked around.  The competitors in the ring next door caught my eye – they were in the division I was in last season.  Yeah, the season when I won all those shiny medals.  I watched them while they practiced and I concluded that I was exactly where I needed to be even if it meant not placing.

Four of us competed in kata, I tied for third place.  I know I did wonderfully on my kata until I got off balance during one of the final movements.  Of course I lost.  After I exited the ring I had to remind myself to see the big picture.  I first started memorizing Bassai Dai kata last winter and I’ve worked hard on it since.  This is a kata most styles wait until black belt to teach – my organization requires it for the 5th kyu test.   I have only begun to scratch the surface of it, and I’m improving and learning more.  Yes, it was disappointing to wobble but I recovered and finished the kata with the proper demeanor – and that alone is something I can be proud of.  I looked again at the huge airplane tail looming above the venue and knew that the loss was nothing compared to what I’ve gained in the 29 years since I last saw the Spruce Goose.

One of my fellow competitors bowed out of sparring, leaving only three of us.  I didn’t get the bye – it was just as well because I get nervous watching other fighters before I’ve had some time in the ring myself.  Once I’ve had a fight, I’m OK with watching.  As we entered the ring, I looked at my opponent and knew I was in for a heck of a fight.  I’ve seen her fight before and I’m fairly certain she significantly outranks me (competitors wear only red or blue belts for tournaments).  I reminded myself I have more tools to use than I did at the last tournament.  I happened to be facing the Spruce Goose as I entered the ring and took up my starting position.

SpruceGoose2The huge aircraft dominated the scene behind my opponent.  I reminded myself again of how far I’ve come.  I knew that in the face of almost certain defeat, I had a choice.  Knuckle under and hope it was over quickly, or stay calm, do my best, play the game, and learn.  I chose the latter.

I was right, it was a heck of a fight.  I slipped and fell once and went to the mats again later because my opponent dumped me on my can for kicking too slowly.  The first time I went to the ground, I rolled out of the way before my opponent could score three points.  The second time I went to the ground, I saw an opening and side-kicked while I was still on the ground.  Unfortunately the shushin had already called a halt the instant before my foot connected with my opponent’s abdomen, so I didn’t score.  But at least I’d prevented my opponent from getting three points.  I’ve never tried that before.  All in all, I didn’t do too badly.  She won with eight points, mostly punches.  I scored five points – two with punches, three with my signature move (roundhouse kick to the head).  Not bad.  But I missed my coach, who is a Sensei at a sister dojo.

I’m not going into all the details about why my coach wasn’t there and all the assumptions that went down on both sides.  I let Affiliate YMCA Sensei bring up the subject, and he did.  “You need to learn to text me when you’re in staging,” he told me.  What could I say but, “Ossu!”  I suddenly understood the beauty and efficiency of that word.  Frankly, if I’d made excuses, thrown blame, etc. I’d have still eventually ended up saying, “Ossu!” at the end (maybe after a bazillion push-ups).  And really, I do need to move into the 21st century.  My cell phone was in my car because I couldn’t imagine needing to make a phone call, I didn’t want to receive phone calls, and I didn’t want the phone stolen out of my gear bag.  I totally forgot that a thief recently stole my credit and debit cards but left my “Dumbphone!”  Anyhow, I still think push-button phones (as opposed to rotary dial) are pretty groovy, so it never occurred to me to call or text someone who is in the same building as I am.  Go ahead and laugh.

So I came home with two bronze medals for losing the first rounds of both kata and kumite.  Funny how that works, but hey, they’re nice souvenirs.  The host organization had nice goodies for every participant, including Kung Fu Panda stuffed toys (I gave mine to my younger daughter*).  But the best takeaways from this tournament were not the material things.  The best takeaways were the lessons I learned in the shadow of the Spruce Goose.

Photo courtesy of Sami
Photo courtesy of Sami

* My younger daughter is autistic and has had a hard time controlling herself this school year.  She has lashed out physically at people in her frustration.  I gave her my Tigress doll from the tournament and talked with her about how Tigress never hits people for things like being told she can’t use a calculator to do math.  I hope my daughter will remember that and think about it this summer.  I might have to bring the stuffed toy out again before the first day of school.  Time will tell, but my daughter really appreciated the gift.

Two Years

gps-on-md
Faraway Dojo is so far away I need a GPS!

Friday, June 3 was my two year “Karateversary.”  I would have been training with the folks going to the USA Karate Nationals but before I was invited to participate in that, I’d already arranged my visit to Faraway Dojo.

I visit Faraway Dojo bimonthly.  It takes a couple of hours to get there when there’s traffic, half the time when the roads aren’t jugged up.  Last time I was there, Faraway Sensei went over bunkai (interpretation) for Bassai Dai kata (one of our forms) with partners.  We continued that during the first hour.  This was hands-on learning with partners, and I loved every minute of practicing these crippling moves (gently and without hurting each other of course).  Later on, I spent half an hour writing it all down.  I spent a good bit of Saturday morning refining and practicing Bassai Dai, and I think my time at Faraway Dojo has made a difference.

The second hour was spent on bo.  I have only picked up a bo maybe six times in my life.  But here’s the interesting thing – I didn’t have much difficulty following along with the bo kata.  I’ve learned two new advanced katas since the last time I was at Faraway Dojo – the day after I earned my green belt.  I was making connections right and left, and I found that a good bit of what I’d learned empty hand translated well to the weapon.  We finished up with a drill where we had partners and clacked our weapons together.  I learned quickly not to visually track the weapons, but to see my partner as a whole and respond accordingly.

The time flew by.  It was a great way to spend a “karateversary!”

graduation-hat-cap-md

Wednesday 6/8/16 was the last day of two academic years with College Dojo.  At the start of the 2014-2015 academic year, I asked College Sensei if I could work out with his class in order to solidify my basics and get in shape for an upcoming tournament.  I ended up staying for quite some time.  Last Spring, the black belt who assisted College Sensei with the class retired.  In February, the brown belt assistant moved away.  This left me as Sempai.  Getting a little more authority in College Dojo was a major motivation for me to test for my green belt a couple of months ago.

The last day of every quarter, College Dojo holds its own belt test.  Usually College Sensei has me working out with everyone as a kind of practice run for me.  This time he decided I could be of more use as an assistant.  I didn’t do much, but what I did saved him some time.  For one thing, he didn’t have to come up with a fiendish combination of techniques and stances for me to do 🙂  I did a couple of little tiny tasks.  The biggest thing I did was console a young lady.

This young lady was supposed to test today.  Unfortunately, on her way to the dojo, she fell.  She came hobbling into the dojo late.  I was able to quietly console her and give her information about the upcoming belt test at my Home Dojo later this month.  After this I was very, very glad that I wasn’t working out with the rest of the class!

I was, however, needed to spar with a young man who has dumped me on my can a few times.  The rest of the candidates were too low in rank and I am also the best match for his height.  I had been quietly warming up off to the side, so I was ready for the match.  He acquitted himself well and I was pleasantly surprised that I didn’t get thrown even once.  I barely had time to shed knuckle pads and mouth guard before I had to hustle to the front of the dojo.

Presenting newly-promoted karateka their new belts is an honor usually reserved for black belts.  For four quarters now, the honor of presenting the new belts at College Dojo has been mine.  I have wonderful memories of being presented with my new belts, and I feel incredibly honored filling the same role as some of my favorite black belts.

One thing I must get used to is college students are in transition.  I said some goodbyes.  I “grew up” with a few of the colored belts (students who continued beyond earning their two quarters of credit).  These “siblings” of mine slowly filtered out of Karate over the course of this year, and now the highest-ranked among them (as of today only one rank my junior) is moving away.  I’m sad about this, but maybe some of the newer students will stay on awhile.  Time will tell.

September 26 seems to be a long time to wait…

Fit as a Fiddle? Or Flabby?

bodybuilderI thought I was fairly fit until last week when I started training with some of the karateka from our organization who are going to the USA National Championships in Pittsburgh this summer.  After all, I can run most children, teenagers, and new beginner college students into the ground when I lead warmups for Karate class.  I consider an hour of Zumba to be a great warmup for ninety minutes of Karate on Saturday mornings.  Sure I find pushups difficult and I’m still carrying a little extra weight, but I can do more than a lot of people my age and younger.  So am I in shape?

During the first days of Nationals training (5/26/16-5/28/16) I realized I’m not in as good shape as I could be.

Yeah, I can outperform most children, teens, and beginner twentysomethings.  When I lead warmups I have them at my mercy for only ten minutes and many of them drop like flies.  But that’s not necessarily because I’m a super athlete.  I think it’s because these youngsters have lead sedentary lifestyles.  That puts my fitness level in a whole new perspective.

I’m not athletic.  Last week I had my first taste of what true athleticism involves.  Due to a myriad of different circumstances, I have not been training with the group this week and will not be training with the group until next week.  Nationals training group meets only on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.  I’ve had to make some major adjustments in order to not have to start over at square one when I resume training with the group.

It’s intense.

Last week on my first day, I didn’t think I could do three hours of brutal training.  On the second day, I was even more amazed that I had survived.  At the end of the third day I was too tired to care.  But during my rest day I realized that this is do-able.  So this week I pushed myself.  Hard.  It was lonely without the group, but I did it.

These are the things I am now doing until I can train with the group again…  I am jogging for about 15 minutes.  Sprinting uphill about 25 yards.  When I come home, I’m doing brutal exercises for abs, arms, and legs.  Oh, and have I mentioned an hour of practicing karate?  All this on top of my usual Karate classes.  And I will continue doing these things every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from now until Nationals.

By the way, dear reader, when do you think I wrote this article?  Thursday night, just before it was published (Midnight Friday, 6/2/16)?  Nope.  I am actually writing this portion of this article on Sunday (5/29/16).  Five days before publishing.  Sure I will do some light editing and add pictures throughout the week.  But yeah, I am writing this portion of this blog post on Sunday.  Why?  It’s an interesting exercise in perspective to write as if all these brutal workouts are already done.

Will this exercise in perspective motivate me?  Will I work hard to make these things come true?  Will this optimism continue if things get hard for me?  In this next section I’ll write little “journal entries” as I have time this week.

Wednesday 6/1/16

So far so good.  Something I hadn’t anticipated is that my dog and I had to work some things out.  I have never voluntarily gone jogging bef

17 pounds of cute!
17 pounds of cute!

ore.  As far as I know, neither has my dog.  He had to learn not to cross in front of me.  I had to come up with a command and physical cue to get him to correct his position.  I had to learn his cue for “I really do need to go potty,” and I’m proud to say I can now tie a knot in a poop bag while jogging.  My dog had to learn that taking exception to my sprints is unacceptable.  I had to learn that giving him a warning that a sprint is coming up helps him control his impulse to herd me into “good” behavior.  I think my dog and I are going to benefit a lot from this change of pace.

I am soooo tired…  That said, I made it through class at Home Dojo last night just fine.  At College Dojo today I only went a little more easy on the “kids” than usual when I led warmups.

Thursday 6/2/16

It’s my older daughter’s birthday today.  Very soon after I was invited to join those training for Nationals I notified Affiliate YMCA Sensei that I wouldn’t attend tonight.  In anticipation of an evening of celebration, I got my workouts done and over with this morning and this afternoon.

This morning I got up, jogged, and did a bunch of fiendish exercises for arms, abs, and legs.  After work I gulped down a substantial snack and went to the pool to splash around with my younger daughter in order to kill time before birthday gal arrived home from her classes at the community college.  I came home anticipating going out to a nice dinner with the family.  I was already showered and ready to go.

Question5_SickWhen I got home my husband told me Birthday Girl was sick.  Not severely so, but she was definitely green around the gills.  My husband fortunately was working from home today so he had gone out to collect her from her last class so she wouldn’t barf on the bus.

After checking with birthday girl, I tore out of the house to the Affiliate YMCA.  I was only five minutes late 🙂

Mind you, Thursdays I work until 1:00, so I had eaten only a substantial snack around 1:40.  This in anticipation of a dinner at a restaurant (typical portions are twice what I normally eat).

I made it through two hours of classes in spite of all this.

So it came time for us to do fiendish exercises at the end of class – yup, I’d already done ’em this morning.  Did all right with legs and abs, but not so well with the arms.  Affiliate YMCA Sensei saw me struggling with the pushups and commended my effort.  While we were un-stacking chairs in preparation for more fiendish upper body stuff, Sensei told me I was done.  I held a chair for someone to do a fiendish arm exercise and explained to Sensei how my day had gone.  He told me, “You should definitely stop.”

No doubt I’ll feel all this tomorrow (Friday 6/3/16).  Tomorrow is my two year karate anniversary.  I never imagined two years ago that I’d be doing all this.

In conclusion

On Sunday, I wondered, “Will this exercise in perspective motivate me?”

It sure did.  Writing out what my success would “look like” kept me going, and tonight I ended up performing beyond what I thought I could do.

“Will I work hard to make these things come true?”

Believe me, I did work hard.  I’ve been feeling it all week.  Unfortunately I haven’t been practicing kata as much as I’d have liked- this is the only area in which I’ve fallen short.

“Will this optimism continue if things get hard for me?”

Yes.  Tonight, Affiliate YMCA Sensei told me to stop because I was pushing too hard.  I was convinced I could get through it.

So am I fit, or am I flabby?  I guess I’m both.

What if?

Ceinture_De_Karate_Ou_Judo_clip_art_greenWhat if our belts changed color according to how well we’re performing at the moment?

I am not qualified to judge my best techniques, but I will judge a role I play and say with confidence that when I’m teaching a group at College Dojo, my belt would be brown (higher ranked than I am now).  Circumstances have landed me in the role of senior student and assistant teacher a little early in my Karate career.

When I’m not at my best, definitely the belt would be blue (a low rank in our system).  And yeah, there are times when my belt would be white (students buy white belts when they buy their uniforms – white belts aren’t earned by passing a test).

How long would my belt actually stay green (my current rank as of this writing)?  Hopefully it would be most of the time.  My Sensei would not have told me to test if he didn’t think I couldn’t live up to the color and work towards my next belt rank.  That said, public and home school teachers and my own home school experiences have taught me that most students excel in some areas, are average in some areas, and struggle with the rest.  If my belt color could reflect my performance in the moment, it would definitely change color sometimes.

In those moments where I know I nailed something, I am elated.  There might be a flash of black when that happens.  But what about when I am not understanding something?  How would I feel if the belt color shimmered purple, then blue, orange, and finally stayed white while I struggled with a detail of a basic movement?  What would I say or do?

Last Saturday, I was totally “there,” feeling like a white belt.  Punching an opponent – how hard can that be?  Sensei was teaching a new way of moving (well, new to me anyway) and I just wasn’t “getting it.”  I must confess that my training partner and Sensei were more patient with me than I was with myself.  I had to let myself be carried by their encouragement.

I think the most helpful thing said to me was, “It’s OK.  We’re here to learn.  Take your time and go slowly.”

I wasn’t making much progress so I was next paired off with a twelve year old blue belt boy.  This actually was very beneficial for both him and I, so my belt color would’ve probably changed to blue.  Better.

Eventually the class moved on to other things.  Maybe my belt color would’ve changed a few times, but I think it would’ve stayed mostly green.  I will say this, though.  The moment I decided to write down what I’d struggled with and practice it at home my belt would most definitely have either been green or a higher color.

SuccessTaking this a step further, what if there were some sort of tiny computer with an LCD screen on the belt that would display a chart of overall growth?  I don’t think there’s a computer capable of doing that.  As Jackie Bradbury explains, martial arts growth is not linear.  One could chart the color changes of the make-believe belt, but that wouldn’t mean anything.  I might perform like a white belt because of an injury.  Or maybe I’ve learned far more from a prolonged period of blue than from a flash of black.  A computer couldn’t chart that.  I’m finding out that a journey from white to black is far more organic, far more human than that.