Big Shots

Karate associations are funny beasts.

Typically, they are established, and then they grow. They develop sub groups and satellites, and spread geographically.

A good example is the Japan Karate Association. It started in Japan, and sent instructors out into the world to found satellite groups.

Members are pretty much considered foot soldiers in a semi-military, top down organization. Loyalty to one’s superiors is a given.

Sometimes one of the sub groups decides to separate. The ISKF is a good example. It was founded in 1977 in the USA as a part of the larger JKA. In 2007, it decided to go its own way. When it did, several of its top people removed their own organizations from the ISKF, to maintain their links with the ISKF’s superior federation the JKA.

Who was letting down whom? I wonder if any who left the ISKF after the ISKF left the JKA so they could remain with the JKA lost any of their people back to the ISKF.

This kind of thing happens all the time. Anytime an association looks like it is big and healthy, it’s probably about to collapse.

A couple of decades ago the JKA branch in BC melted down. We were attached to the JKA through a federation headed by Nishiyama Sensei. Differences arose between what he wanted, and what we were doing. He effectively said it was his way or the highway. I do not think any clubs accepted his ultimatum. We fractured.

Some formed into a group called ShotoCanada. Some contacted and joined the ISKF. Some formed into NASKA, which maintained its links to the JKA. I was part of NASKA.

I don’t know what causes this instability. I’ve never heard of any big divisions in the badminton community. Hockey doesn’t do this either.

Perhaps it has to do with the extreme respect given to instructors in Karate. Higher rank brings even higher levels of respect. It is really quite unbalanced.

To me, loyalty goes both ways. The key is not the Sensei, the association, or the high-level instructor. Loyalty is due to the student. I would walk through fire for my students.

It can be as small as listening to them when they question things, or as big as arguing with an examiner during an exam. If an association were short changing a club of mine, I’d leave it in a heartbeat. There are always other associations, and a club without one can work just fine. Students are people. People who have put themselves into their Sensei’s care. The main one looking out for them is their instructor.

I think this gets lost sometimes.

Who is the Champ?

This spring our club attended two tournaments labelled as the Provincial Championship. Each one is the premier event of different associations.

The one put on by our style association is logically known as the ISKF Provincial Championship. The other competition is called the Karate BC Provincial Championship.

The rules are a little different, but not such that an outsider would notice.

The difference is in scale. The ISKF event is only open to the 20 BC-based ISKF clubs. Assuming 30 members per club, this is only 600 people. Most people have no interest in competing, and the remainder are divided into divisions by gender, age, and belt rank.

The Karate BC event is open to 125 Karate BC clubs. Assuming the same club size, it means a pool of 3,750 people.

It would be nice if the ISKF clubs were also part of Karate BC. Most style associations do this, as Karate BC is recognized by Sport BC, and therefore by the Provincial Government. Its role is to unify the sport aspect of Karate.

Some of our ISKF clubs are also part of Karate BC. The five that are can have competitors taking part in both type of event. The other 15 clubs cannot.

Doing well in Karate BC can get one into Team BC, which means you compete at the National Level. Do well there, and international competition looms. This can lead to the World Championship put on by the World Karate Federation, which is the body recognized by the International Olympic Committee. If Karate becomes an Olympic sport, this group will be in charge of it around the world.

Not that I’m looking for an Olympic Gold.

Not yet.

Athena and George Foreman

I can remember very well the first time I fought. Sparred, actually. Free fighting in a tournament. The matches were 2 or 3 minutes long. I had three matches. Each one was the most draining thing I’d ever done, and there were three of them.

At the time, I had no understanding of what made it so hard. I was doing two things wrong.

Do you remember George Foreman? Sure you do. He’s the boxer who destroyed everybody in the heavyweight division until Ali polished him during the Rumble in the Jungle. He quit boxing, returning late in life to make a comeback. He managed to again win the title at age 45. He kept on fighting, finally retiring for good a couple of months shy of 49 years old.

How did he do this? Well, being good helps, as does a jackhammer punch, but neither of those things was the key. In his second career, he was always totally relaxed and comfortable in the ring. Every muscle not in use was resting. His much younger opponents could not match this, and often pooped out before he did. He substituted relaxation for youth. His relaxed self burned half the energy of their tension.

The other key to endurance in fighting is even easier to understand, and a heck of a lot easier to do. One must remember to breath. Not that I didn’t breathe during my first tournament, but I did not breathe right. Wish I’d known that at the time.

Today Sensei had me spar with her daughter for about 20 minutes. She needs to free fight for her upcoming Black Belt exam, and I’m the best one in the club to help her get ready. I presented her with funny angles, different styles, blitzes, and a ton of other stuff. She took it all and dished out plenty back. The best part was that she managed to keep relaxed the entire time. Relaxed, but fully alert and focused. That is exactly what she will need for her exam.

And she never forgot to breathe.

Far

Have you ever had a weird trip idea? I have one.

It would be cool to hook one of those bike trailer things onto my electric bike, and head south along the coast until I hit Mexico. At about a hundred kilometres a day with a few days off, it would take about a month.

I’d haul along all four of the batteries we own, and would consider getting another one or two. Would have to pack along the chargers.

Couldn’t do such a trip without my cool Garmin GPS that straps to my handlebars. Would need both my iPods, of course, and my iPad, and my good camera should be along, too. More chargers.

Raingear! I want top-notch raingear. And a reasonable collection of clothes.

I’m a big wuss, so camping gear will not be required. I’m a hotel/motel kinda guy, and like eating out.

To keep the cost reasonable, it would be wise to go in the off season. September could work, if I was retired. Less traffic on the roads then, too.

For the trip home, a combination of the Surfliner and Coast Starlight trains would be lovely. I don’t think one has to pedal the train. I could be wrong.

There are a couple of problems with this cunning plan. On a trip this long, there would have to be several mechanical hitches. I am, perhaps, the least mechanical guy on the planet.

Also, I don’t think this thing is in any way my wife’s dream trip. Nightmare might be closer the mark.

It might be a nightmare for me, too. The longest one-day trip I’ve ever done is about 50 kilometres, with a lengthy break in the middle. Expecting to do double this distance every day for a month is ambitious. My bum might not be up to it, nor my legs, nor my lungs. How would I handle a road-rash incident?

Might be an idea to do the train south and north, and leave the bike at home.

Sunny Runs

Heart rate up. Blazing sunshine. Million mile ocean views.

Amazing how calming and satisfying a run in the sun can be. Who invented this running thing anyway?

I know it’s a good run when my wrist GPS tells me that I’m running faster than normal. Today was fast.

No Starbucks on the route, so no stopping allowed.

Lots of dogs out, mostly tied to their owners by string, but not all. Some just out taking strolls on their own. They didn’t bother me, and I did the same back to them.

Lots of walkers out and about, including teenagers. That hardly ever happens. They seemed happy, and a couple greeted me loudly. My high school kids seem to get a kick out of seeing a teacher running.

I hate people claiming that kids are worse than they’ve ever been. It’s a lie. Crime statistics, drug use statistics, teen pregnancy stats, and every other indicator all back me up. Kids are great. Better now that ever before.

Imagine how great they’d be if they just went on sunny runs.

Got Style?

Karate comes in various flavours, known as styles. There are four big ones worldwide. Please don’t get offended if yours isn’t one of them. In no particular order, they are Shitu-Ryu, Wado-Ryu, Goju-Ryu, and Shotokan. In BC, we have all of these types, and Chitu-Ryu is also big here.

They all have interwoven roots clear back to Okinawa. Each style is quite distinctive. Some have higher stances, some lower. Some perform basic blocks one way, some another. Some kick differently. Some Katas exist in more than one style, while others do not.

Which is the best style? The short answer would be Shotokan, the style I train in. The longer, and better answer is that there is no best.

In tournaments competition, there is no way to predict a participant’s chance of winning based on style.

Shotokan seems to suit my temperament, and physical type. However, there’s a very good chance that I would feel the same about any other style if that was what I’d originally learned.

I recommend any of them to a beginner. My advice is to find a nice teacher, and a friendly club.

Or drop by, and join us.

Be The Ball

Cherry Bolognese is the Sensei at our club here in Sechelt. Both she, and her husband Armando have said that they have dreamed of filling that role.

It’s great they get the chance.

I never sought such a role, but had it land on me several times. It is pleasant enough, once one gets used to it.

I enjoyed Cherry taking over out club a couple of months ago. My job is now working on my own Karate, not everybody else’s. Not that I ignore my friends, but I limit my help to the odd pointer. I help individuals more when they ask me, but they only rarely do so.

It’s hard to keep my mouth shut when I see something generally out of whack. I think I’m getting better at it with time. Not my role. Not my job. It all works itself out eventually anyhow.

An example is something that Cherry came up with lately. The club generally had awful roundhouse kicks. They just weren’t getting it. I noticed, but it’s not my role. Not my job. Were they all doomed to ineffective kicking forever?

Not at all. Cherry had the class do a roundhouse kick drill with partners repeatedly for about half an hour. Not a grinding, tiring drill, but one where it was impossible to do the kick wrong. After that much correct kicking everybody really, really understood. Did I need to worry about their roundhouse kicks? Nope. Not my role. Not my job.

Could I have fixed them faster? Nope. It was cool to be part of, and it sure didn’t hurt my kicks any either.

Karate doesn’t have “be the ball”, but we do have “be the punch”.

That’s what I do. I am my punch. My own punch.

Not yours.

Puzzle

Life is full of puzzles, especially where human endeavours is involved.

In Karate, there are several Katas where you do not end up where you are supposed to. If every individual move is perfect, you end up to one side, or too far forward, or too far back. The problem is, you have to end where you started, but you must not cheat on any of the moves. It is a puzzle, but I can do it, and can teach it to others.

I love running when it’s hot, and I love running through the long shadows of early morning. Sadly, the two never seem to overlap. Summer evening runs should do the trick, but somehow running late for me isn’t as inspiring as running very, very early. A puzzle I’ve yet to solve.

Some puzzles have no solution.

Early Morning

We are off for a bit to be with friends. I love my home, but I always like going other places.
It means I’ll miss some of my usual routines, which is both good and bad, but I don’t every have to miss running.

My internal clock is kinda weird. I usually wake up well before 6am. No normal person does this, and even if they do, they just roll over. I get up.

This means I’ll have plenty of time to run as far as my legs want to go. It also means that I get to find new and exciting routes.

We will be in a mixed suburban/rural area. It is pretty flat, but in a sneaky way. Certain routes are nice and horizontal, but others are disguised, incredibly long slopes. If you’ve ever done a few miles on a slow uphill, you’ll know how draining this can be. Somehow, you never get the lost energy back when on a slow downhill. Such is the law of gradual hills.

There are plenty of suburban streets to run on, including some busy arteries. There will also be rural lanes, which just might include some magical river views.

A flat run, with a river view. It would need some early morning sunshine to make it perfect. And a Starbucks, it has to have a Starbucks.

Gifted

Karate is a great activity for someone gifted, like me, but how about regular folks.

To be good at Karate, it helps to be athletic, flexible, strong, fast, have a good memory, and have great posture and balance.

It is even possible succeed without being athletic. I have never played a team sport, or even a solo one. Can't sink a basket, or hit a ball. Wasn't exactly the last kid picked for games in PE, but was always darn close. Karate became my first sport. Sadly, my lack of physical grace meant that none of it came naturally to me. No problem. Learning and then repeating a technique a few zillion times covers for this somewhat. Helps if a Sensei is there to make the tiny corrections so badly needed.

Can’t possibly do well without flexibility, though. Look at me. My mom’s side of the family is normal this way, but my dad’s? Oh my goodness. My sister also received the curse. You could call us the zombie people. Except we don’t eat brains, and zombies are more bendy. I’ve worked for decades trying to be as flexible as possible, which isn’t very flexible at all. I’ll never be a high kicker. Good part is I don’t need to be. I can put my foot deep inside your guts. Just try me.

Everybody knows stronger is tougher than weaker. That’s true in Karate as in most things. My awesome upper body strength had been cunningly disguised by my wet spaghetti arms. Never have added any bulk, but over time have learned to use every scrawny single muscle cell. Still can’t lift a lot, but can make a heavy bag swing like there’s no tomorrow.

Fast would be nice. I don’t have that either. The type of fighter I most admire is the wily counter-puncher. I’ll never be one of those as my reaction time is just not up to it. Science used to say you can’t improve reaction time, but they’ve since recanted. Good thing, cuz I swear that all that practice has made me significantly faster. Not fast enough to be my beloved counter puncher, but faster non the less. I therefore have adapted to a style that doesn’t rely heavily on waiting for an opponent to go first.

It really helps to have a good memory, just to learn all the information. I’d say my memory is top notch, not for shopping lists and such, but for learning Kata. If I get attend one class where a Kata is covered, I usually have it. At least in a rough form. This is perhaps my one big gift in Karate, and all the Kata movement skill has helped me big time in real life. My wife and I have taken many ballroom dancing lessons. Helen has a really hard time learning stuff like that, so normally it was my job to learn my part of the dance, and to learn her part, and then to teach her her part. Many of my friends have struggled with the memory stuff in Karate, but the endless repetition helps them.

Posture and balance? I a sloucher, and used to fall down a lot.

I am a Black Belt, with none of the requirements except for memory.

It should be easier for you.

Football Gear

This weekend Helen and I are going into the big city of Vancouver. We’ll be visiting our good friends Bernie and Lola, and Lola’s mom Phyllis. I expect many laughs.

There should be plenty of time for me to pop into my favourite martial arts store. It’s time to buy some sparring gloves.

My ones from back in the 20^th century are still downstairs, but they were a joke even then. They are extremely thin, and padded with something quite rigid. There may have been some shock absorbing effect, but it was minimal.

I’ll be picking up some properly made ones approved by the World Karate Federation. They are thick enough to provide a smidge of protection from a moderately excessive hit.

I’ve been resisting getting them. Somehow sparring in the nude is emotionally superior. I mean nude in the no-padding sense.

Sure, you get hit a bit more that way, but it also forces you to be always careful of your control. The illusion of safety provided by the gloves encouraged sloppy technique.

That’s the old theory, anyhow. In practice, it has proven to be false.

I’ll also be getting some of the matching foot booties, too. Should I get shin guards, and forearm guards? A chest protector might be nice. WKF has also started introducing a clear shield that covers a competitor’s face. When does the equipment go too far? Is football safer than rugby? I think not.

I think I’ll get hand and foot pads, and leave it at that.

Dan

Please excuse all the rank talk, but it matters.

The highest rank that exists in Karate is 10^th Dan (Judan). It is a measure of mastery, along with a lifetime of commitment. It is also similar to a military rank

In the old days, Shotokan had no 10^th Dan, even though it was the world’s largest style.

The head man was named Masatoshi Nakayama, and he held the rank of 9^th Dan. Every time the association tried to bestow 10^th Dan on him, he declined. Didn’t think he needed it, I suppose.

My own instructor, Sakurai Sensei, was a 5^th Dan back then.

This meant that all the top people around the world could only aspire to 8^th Dan, at least if they were Shotokan stylists.

It was my great honour to be able to train under Nakayama Sensei once at the San Diego Summer Camp, and once when he visited Vancouver. When I failed my first Black Belt exam, he was the head examiner. I was failed by the Master. A distinction, of sorts.

I also managed to train a session or two under 8^th Dans, Nishiyama and Enoeda. Had a few classes under 7^th Dan Yamaguchi.

After Nakayama Sensei passed away in 1987, the rank structure remained frozen, but with no 9^th Dan. After a few years of stability to honour his memory, a form of Shotokan rank inflation occurred.

The old 8^th Dans became 10^th Dans to put them more in line with the world’s other styles.

This last December, I got to train in a couple of classes with 9^th Dan Yaguchi Sensei and 7^th Dan Gary Swain. A month ago 6^th Dan Dixon visited our local club.

Out of all these big instructors, who is the very best?

The easy answer would be the highest rank, but that’s a cop out. If I really try and select the best, my decision would be based on very short acquaintance. Just a class or two with each. I can only judge by what I saw and heard.

Hands down, the answer is Sakurai Sensei, who was my own instructor. He is currently a 7^th Dan. My selection has nothing whatsoever to do with loyalty. His depth of knowledge is astounding, and he works at being able to present what he knows in a way students can understand. He cares about each person in the room. He never allows himself to accept the easy answer to technical problems. Currently he lives in far away in Japan.

The miracle of my current situation is that there is a 5^th Dan in my small town who is the second best instructor I’ve ever met. Ogawa Sensei has all the characteristics that I most value in Sakurai Sensei.

The third best instructor ever?

That would be me. Ooops. Did I say that out loud?

Comfort, and buried treasure

Today I was playing my favorite xbox game. It’s called MMA, and is all about Mixed Martial Arts. You know, jujitsu, boxing, wrestling all rolled up in one event. My fighter reached a spot in his career where I had to decide which league he would join. He could either join a mundane group, or go into a Japanese association which allows really nasty stuff. I chose the easy road.

I went with what I already knew how to do. Even in a stupid game, I went for what was safe, and comfortable.

People do this in real live, too. Big time. Martial Arts people more than most.

Karate typically has hard blocks, linear punches, and heavy kicks. Good instructors are open to things outside of this, but there seems to be some form of gravity pulling back.

If you’ve never seen Kata, you are missing something special. A Kata is a series of techniques performed in a particular rhythm. The Katas were developed many, many decades ago. Every move, strike, and pause must be performed correctly, with laser intensity.

Each move also has at least one real combat application. Often, this explanation is obvious. Obvious, and wrong. Often the easy answer makes no sense in a real-world interpretation. Most Karate people just accept this.

An example is the very first move of the very first Kata. Turn left, move forward, and block a kick. The silly explanation is that you are blocking an attack from the left. But why do you move forward? We practice blocks for hours with partners, and we move back, not forward. In the Kata, you move forward.

The silly explanation is that, in real life you’d move back. They throw out the very first move of the first Kata, because it makes no sense alongside all that one has been learning. Doing this also makes the following movements puzzling.

When I first learned what this forward movement meant I was astounded. It instantly explained things about the following movement that the short answer couldn‘t. I love this stuff.

To make this move work the way the better explanation calls for is hard, at least Brown Belt level. Did you catch that? To do the first move of the White Belt Kata correctly you have to be a Brown Belt.

Might there even be a better explanation for that first move. Sure could, but I won’t find it. Certainly will never find it without being willing to step outside the old comfort zone.

Seeing the hidden is hard.

GEEK

This entry has nothing to do with Karate, or biking, or even running. What is the topic? It’s kind of a confession.

I’m a GEEK.

First got interested in technology after moving up North in 1980. My first computer was an Apple II plus. Was programming it myself in no time at all. When I went back to college, the computer instructor didn’t know what to do with me. I was more advanced than she was. Got and A+ in that course.

I’ve owned 14 computers since then, from Apples, to Windows machines, and even a couple of Macbooks. Built one of the Windows computers from scratch.

When we moved to Sechelt, GEEKS were kinda rare. Got my first job at the high school here teaching technology classes and keyboarding. I soon taught programming, and web page design once the internet happened along. This included keeping a room full of computers happy and content.

I have owned a ton other tech toys. This has included a ton of mp3 players over the years. Now have an ipod shuffle, a touch, and an ipad. Helen has an iphone, and we both do digital photography. Did I mention that we have a Wii, an Xbox 360, a PVR, and watch movies on Netflix? Our vacuum cleaner is a robot.

I haven’t taught any technology classes in a long time.

Had a lovely chat with another former technology teacher at my school today. We both felt it would be murder to ever do such a class ever again. We both feel seriously left behind.

Even immersed in technology, and maintaining a hobbyist’s interest, I am no longer up to date.

But I’m still a serious GEEK. Electric bike, for pete’s sake.

Connections, or not

I am so lucky.

Lucky in a great house, great job, and fabulous wife. Lucky also in my hobbies.

My town now has a viable Shotokan Karate club.

As a club member, I get to be part of the International Shotokan Karate Federation. I therefore have access to big-instructor seminars. This also gets me access to dojos in countries around the world.

I have also been accepted back into the circle of my old instructor. He is a 7^th Dan, and I get to train with him when he’s in Canada. He, and all of his clubs, are members of the Japan Karate Association, which is even bigger than the ISKF.

There is a 5^th Dan JKA instructor in my town who does not currently have a club. His work hours make this impractical. He lets me train with him once in a while, and we have a student/instructor relationship. He also has contacts with the Japan Karate Association.

There is also a club nearby of a different style. They practice Shitu Ryu, which is similar to Shotokan in many ways. They welcome me whenever I go to train with them.

“Fine,” you might say, “How is all that Karate going to help you when you go to spend most of 2 months in Victoria this Summer?”

Victoria has no ISKF clubs. Victoria has no JKA clubs. There is plenty of Karate there, but none I’m connected to.

What will my Victoria options be? I could take a break. I could train alone. I could find a Karate club that would let me play. I could re-join the Iaido group that I trained with last summer. Playing with swords is always swell. I’ve wanted to do Judo for quite a while, and Victoria has a top-notch club.

Not a lack of choice at all.

I am so lucky.

Sunny

At 6am this morning the sky was showing a bit of blue. I waited until the light came down from the treetops and touched the ground before heading out on my run. The light, however, was being filtered by a bank of poorly-placed clouds, and so carried no heat at all. I felt quite hard done by. Wore long sleeves, gloves, and my silly head rag.

I was planning to do one of my usual runs, but in reverse direction. This would be better, if there was any real sunshine, at the price of a mess of nasty up hills.

Trudging up the first, frosty gradient I felt quite cold but good. I was moving faster than I expected. One kilometer in, and everything was immediately bathed in serious sunshine. Haven't had the like here in a very long time. In celebration, I added an optional extra looping road onto my route. After the loop, I changed from my sissy 5km planned trail, to the longest one around here.

By the time I headed into the forest my sleeves were rolled up, my gloves in one pocket, and my kerchief in the other.

It still being early morning, the light within the woods was magical. The word dappled comes to mind, but doesn't do it justice. Popped out a mile or so farther on, and turned for home along the now-warm asphalt streets.

Got home still fresh, with a goofy smile on my face. It ended up being twelve kilometers. It had been easy, and I'd gone much faster than my norm.

I'd claim to be a great athlete, but it was all the sunshine.

Cultures don't need to collide

I was born in Canada, as were my parents. Their parents were all born in Europe, three out of the four in Britain.

Must say I'm pretty much a product of mainstream North American experience and perception. My morning today started very much in this mode. Rode my electric bike to town, bought a new battery for our cordless phone, and had breakfast at McDonalds. Went home and played video games on my xbox 360 on my 60 inch TV.

Then off to Karate. Our club of about 15 people study this Japanese art. None of us is Asian. We use Japanese terminology and wear Japanese uniforms.

When I got home, Helen and I rushed off to a housewarming party. Most of the people were part of Helen's drumming circle. After eating, about 30 people played their self-made native drums, singing in time. Most of the people there were not of First Nations ancestry.

In my grandparents time, could they have experienced any of that? Could my parents in their's? Canada, not so long ago, sent Japanese Canadians to concentration camps, and Native children to hellish residential schools.

I love living in this place and time.

On The Mat

The high school where I teach used to have a really excellent wrestling coach named Clint Fox. For a couple of years right before he switched to another school, I was his assistant.

I could have done this for a decade more than I did. Kick myself now.

Learned a lot about making people fall down, and flipping them over, and making them hurt. Also learned the reverse of all those thing, too. It is a splendid sport.

A lot of it has faded away. It's the kind of thing that takes constant practice to retain.

Is it a martial art? It is done on a lovely, comfy mat. There are a ton of safety rules limiting what participants can do. The objective itself is also pretty non-realistic. You put your buddy down on the ground and try and flip him on to his back and hold him there. In a real fight if you do put the other chap down, the last thing you want to do is put him on his back. He can hurt you from there, whilst on his belly he can't. Can't really call it a martial art.

It is a martial sport. The goal is the game, the pin, the points. What one learns is applicable to real combat. It's as if one learned to be a Karate tournament fighter without learning any of the applications or rules-forbidden moves. Would one's tournament skills be useful in a real fight? Can't say it would hurt.

There is an interesting relationship between three aspects of any martial art. There is the 'real' side of things. Perhaps we should call this self-defense. Second there is the sport angle. Lastly there is the art part.

The art is where the calm of repetition kicks in. The beauty of working on minute details. There is Kata.

I make it sound as if there are hard edges between the various aspects within a martial art. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is more like sitting on a 3 legged stool. Your weight can be more on one leg than the others, or equal on all 3. Remove one leg from the stool, and you'll probably crash. Remove 2, you'll hit the deck real fast.

Or maybe there's four main aspects to a Martial Art. You know, fitness.

Better not go there. Sometimes I over think things.

Getting Hit

Since I've been in Karate, I've been hit many times. The blows are supposed to be controlled, but every so often something lands hard. I've been punched. I've been kicked. I've been whacked in all sorts of interesting ways.

Before I was in Karate, I'd never been punched, or kicked...and I doubt I'd ever been whacked.

Some people join martial arts to protect themselves. I guess they want to prevent being attacked. You know, not punched, nor whacked, nor kicked.

Seems a pretty silly way to prevent getting hit, by getting hit....a lot. Maybe they don't want to be afraid of being hit. I'm sure not scared of that anymore. Get hit enough and it kind of loses its novelty.

Sometimes getting hit is funny. Sometimes it's cool to get hit hard and just keep going. One does learn the difference between pain that means nothing, and pain that means injury. Injury, and you stop to take care of it. Pain without injury, no point in stopping.

Some of the exercises we do have pain as a major component. Knuckle push ups do that. Push ups on the back of the wrist do ONLY that. That kind of pain doesn't injure, so you just learn to ignore it. Ignore it, and never show what you're feeling.

In combat, it isn't about getting hit a little. In combat, it isn't about feeling pain. It is about continuing the best you can. Showing weakness invites attack. Pain is hidden. Injury is hidden. Showing anything could get you killed.

I don't mind getting hit, or feeling a little pain.

One thing I'll never be able to accept is when I hit someone else harder than I should, or cause them pain. That hurts.

Fear of Boredom

I ride my bike to and from work every day. The route is always the same. Identical, except for the light, and the weather, and the temperature, and the ocean view, and the traffic.

I run a lot. I have 3 main routes near my home. I run them backwards or forwards, and change the small parts. Not much change, except for the people I see, and the pets, and the odd bear, and all the things that vary on my bike ride.

My mind does like stimulation, so I usually ride or run with music, or podcasts, or audiobooks.

In many ways Karate is even less exciting. It certainly has no weather, or scenery, or even bears. Can't listen to podcast while doing it. No route to pick. How does it not become dull?

Every class I've ever been in has had a mess of punches. No real target, just air  where a target would be. Instructor counts, step and punch, count, step and punch. Back and forth. How many have I done since my start in 1982? Many hundreds of thousands, if not millions. The same goes for simple blocks, and basic kicks, too. Gazillions. Why are they never boring?

With each, I might focus on one aspect to improve. Maybe on the target height, or my hip movement, or the speed of my step. Each technique is an event on its own, a step towards mastery. Nothing boring about it. Once in a rare while I stop thinking altogether, and just move. A sweet state the Japanese call mind like water.

Sometimes an instructor will assign more advanced movements. This is fine and a natural progression. Sadly, they sometimes do it out of fear of the students becoming bored. White belts are usually quite content to work on what they are learning, and trickier stuff is not more interesting to them, it is just plain hard. Often they get frustrated and feel they are stupid or clumsy. It hurts their confidence, and I've known people to quit because of it.

As a Black Belt, I have no problem doing simple stuff along side beginners. Nothing is ever really mastered, and should never be considered beneath one's level.

Most of life isn't like this. Maybe it's a reason I love Karate.

Weapon

I like archaic weapons. You know the type. The kind you see in martial arts movies.

The bo is great. A six foot pole of tapered hardwood. It can hit really, really hard. More energy in it than a baseball bat, focused into a business end of less than a square inch.

I like the sai, too. They are used in pairs, and look like big, heavy, rotisserie forks. One spins them like a baton twirler. They are designed to catch opponent's weapons, and to shatter enemy's bones.

I never got interested in any of the other "Karate" weapons. Fiddled with nunchaku enough to know they were not for me. Tonfas are interesting. They are where police batons came from, but again, not for me.

I've done some fencing. Don't like the foil. Each fencing weapon has it's own style, and rules of competition. I really like the epee, and have never done saber.

I've done a little Iaido, which is the art of Japanese sword. That is very cool. Swinging Samurai swords. Can't think of any way to get closer to being a Samurai than by studying the Katana.

I've never gotten any good with any of these weapons of destruction. The weapon I've actually spent the most time using is the rifle I trained with in the Army.  Much, much more time than all the others put together. It was about a hundred times more effective...

...but somehow it isn't the same thing at all.

 

Gi

The white uniform worn by Karate people is properly called a Karategi, or commonly a gi.

They were originally copied from the Judogi. Being less involved in grappling, the Karate version requires less reinforced stitching. The Karate variety typically comes in either lightweight or heavyweight. This refers to the weight and strength of the cloth. For lightweight think pajamas, for heavyweight, think canvas.

They are white, and pretty much unadorned. Many people have an association crest sewn onto the left brest. A really fancy gi might have the owner's name, embroidered in small Japanese lettering along an edge where it will rarely be noticed.

The gi is really not a billboard for self expression. The colour is always white. Judo has white, and has recently added blue, for tournament identification purposes. Karate has white.

This doesn't mean every Japanese martial art wears white. Iaido and Aikido have tops similar to Judogi, and wear almost-black hakama pants. Of course there are many more arts, and many variations.

I don't attempt to judge arts other than my own, and my art is Karate. If one went to Japan where the art originated, and trained in a thousand dojos (schools), he'd find a thousand classes wearing plain white Karategi. If he then went to Okinawa, the prefecture within Japan where Karate was born, and visited a hundred dojos, he'd find a hundred classes wearing plain white Karategi.

Why do so many in North Americas insist on wearing black, or blue, or red, or tie-dyed uniforms, emblazoned with sequins, nicknames, slogans, and lightning bolts? I am not against MMA guys doing this, or kickboxers, or most anything. I am annoyed by those that do so, and who claim to be doing Karate.

Karate is not a generic name given to anything with kicking and punching. It is a specific family of martial arts that came from Okinawa in Japan.

It would be as if you signed your kid up for baseball. You show up on the field, and they pass out uniforms. All the kids end up wearing multi-coloured spandex tights. The coach tells you that he found baseball gear dull, and he wants the kids to express themselves. You try and be reasonable, and tell yourself that the clothing doesn't matter. Then the training starts, and they aren't doing baseball at all. You politely ask why the kids are swinging cricket bats near sticky wickets, and are told that cricket is really the same as baseball, so they've chosen to mix the two and call it baseball for marketing purposes.

The clothes don't matter, which is precisely why they do.

 

How???

Today, the clouds are barely above the trees. It is dark, and wet. Rain is hammering down, and looks like it will do so all day. Big old fat rain. Also, cold.

How am I supposed to go running in that?

My big chair is so warm.

Helen has asked me to be home when her friend arrives to show her a trick with Garageband on the computer. That could be a perfect excuse. Can't go running when my wife might need me at any moment, but will her friend come over at 8:00am. Unlikely. If anything, it means I should go RIGHT AWAY.

Could substitute a lovely bike ride, but it would be just as miserable as the run.

Maybe I should just go for a short run. Maybe just dodge the raindrops.

I better go, before I back out.

Antique

Today, as I was loading up my gym bag, my old favorite white uniform caught my eye. I've had that Gi for about a thousand years. It is special, with a spiffy crest embroidered on the chest, and it also has my name stitched on the side in Kanji lettering. My old association did a special order. It was pretty expensive, but I wish I'd bought five. As a custom order from the top Japanese uniform maker, the quality and cut are the best that exist. I wore my fancy-embroidered top-quality Gi until it just about away wore into dust. It has an interesting pattern of strategic wear holes. The entire thing could come apart at any time. There is no way my old friend could ever be mended.

So I took it to class. It held together, and was as comfy as ever, but now it's one hour closer to terminal collapse.  It goes back onto the shelf.

Funny how we can revere old stuff.

In Karate, the actual black belts consist of black satin thread surrounding a white core. Over time the satin loses its shine, and eventually starts losing threads. The belt developes a lovely patina. I've seen belts that have almost totally turned white. Not a new white, but a hundred-year-old looking white. They are so cool.

After about a decade as a Black Belt, my belt was pretty worn. Mostly earned from training but one particular blemish was created by a pet rabbit's love of chewing interesting things. My students called it, "the Bunny Belt." A forty-something instructor in a belt like that demands respect. People who didn't know me would approach and bow to show their respect. Problem is, I'd often be standing next to a second or third degree Black Belt, but I'd get the bow. I was a first degree. I bought a new, shiny belt to eliminate the problem.

Now, I'm in my 50's, and my new belt looks the same as the Bunny Belt. Again, too much respect. Time for a third belt.

New belts need a lot of training before they behave. They undo uncontrollably. Today, my newest belt finally decided it was time to settle down. Maybe having tied it around such a well-trained and venerable uniform helped. Logic says, "no", but who can tell how clothing thinks.

Even Older

I’m trying to plan a life here. A life? More like a retirement.

I turn 55 this June, and could go then. My pension would be really small, as I’ve only been a school teacher for about 20 years, having started late. I figger I’ll hang on about 2 more years to fluff up the money a bit.

Physical activity is important, so I’m running, biking, and doing Karate. How long can I count on doing these things?

Don’t think I’ll be running or biking into my 80’s. Might still be able to be involved with Karate. Maybe the running/biking could evolve into walking. I hate walking, but what can ya do?

Maybe I’ll still be running and biking into my 70’s. That would be cool.

For the first part of my retirement, I know I’ll be more fit than I am now. Throughout my lovely teacher summers, I run every day. When I work, I just can’t do it. Prediction: I’ll be running every day.

I’d also like to do some multi-day bike rides. Might try this, too, after my workdays are done.

Travel is fun. Helen and I have done a fair bit, and would like to do more. Off season sounds like heaven to me. One of my favorite travel things lately has been going for early morning runs up and down the strip in Vegas. I sometimes think about runs that could be done in other fabulous places we’ve visited. Running the Ringstrasse in Vienna, followed by a fancy coffee and piece of strudel. Beat that.

Karate late in live might be interesting. Have to move slower, and not push. As I don’t plan on ever testing again, I might beat some kind of record for length of time at first degree (Shodan). I got it when I was 30, and if I can stay active into my 80’s I could end up a 50 year first degree.

I will be bowing to second and third dans who are not even born yet. That will be a kick.

Danger

What is the biggest danger in Karate? It isn't injury at all. It's a swollen head. Perhaps it should be called a swollen ego.

Being an instructor feels a lot like being really, really important. Students treat you with great respect, and bow, and call you Sensei, and obey your every command. After a few years of this, it is too easy to start believing in your own wonderfulness.

Associations break up over the egos, and over imagined insults. My first association collapsed, and it sounds like the ISKF in Canada is currently facing the same kind of thing.

The good news is that some people manage to avoid the trap.

I've been trying to avoid stepping on our current Sensei's toes. Would hate our happy family to crack up over egos. Tonight I suddenly went, "yikes." I'd helped a beginner for a few minutes during class time without being so directed by the Sensei. Next, in Kata time I corrected the Brown Belt's form, and showed the Green a few moves of a Kata beyond the one he's currently supposed to be working on. Hadn't been asked to do that either.

Any one of those actions in a class would be no problem, but I'd done 3. Bit over the limit? Or was there a limit?

Then Sensei had us work in teams on self-defense techniques. I kinda got into it and started showing all sorts of advanced stuff to my group. Fancy stuff, fast and furious. I suddenly noticed I was off the leash and started to worry. Would our Sensei feel I was taking over too much?

At the class's end, she made it really clear that she was fine, and that she wanted to learn what I could teach about wrist locks, pain, and such.

She's only headed our club for a few months, and is improving as an instructor every class. She doesn't need to improve on ego control.

She's already there.

Dummy

When I used to live up north, and was head of a Karate club, I used to get paid a singular honour.

Whenever a big instructor was brought up for a seminar, he would need a dummy to demonstrate upon. For about two years, I was always that dummy. It is an honor, in that if you don't perform up to snuff, another will be chosen. Always me, at least until we grew a few more Black Belts.

Sometimes it was no big deal. He'd explain to the group what was happening, and, taking my cue from that, would play my part. He'd block, or counter, or whatever. Like I said, no big deal.

Don't let anybody ever tell you that Karate doesn't have throws. Bam, I'm on the floor, and have to get up instantly when it's completed so it can all happen again.

Joint lock demos are the worst. The pain is unbelievable. I've been pretzeled many times. The nearest description would be getting hit by lightning. I'd rather take a sprightly kick to the testicles. Have to pop up instantly, too, so it can all happen again.

Maybe, that's why I took ten years off....

...nah....

Bike Every Day

I ride my dandy, Giant-brand, electric bike to work every day. I use it on the setting which makes me do 2/3 of the work, and the batteries the rest.

We've had no real snow or frost this year, so weather hasn't cost me a single ride, although sometimes I arrive soaked to the skin. There are extra clothes stashed at work for this eventuality.

There is no pleasure riding through the early morning black of winter, but April is a time of real pleasure. Rain lessens, skies clear, and sunrise is earlier. May and June loom ahead. Goody.

My route starts with a mile-long downhill, then a similar length flat, and finally a massive uphill. It's the same shape coming home. In the mornings, the big downhill aims me right into the early sunshine. A stunning view of the ocean hovers off to my right. This sets my mood for the entire day.

5k to work, and 5k back. I polish off 2000k a year this way. We are able to manage with only one car. Ever figure out how much a car really costs to run? It's frightening. June will be the second anniversary of my riding. If I can do it until I retire, it will be four years in total. Might break down and get a four-wheeler, but I'm fighting it.

I get a kick out of all the real bike riders out there. Seems fashion is a big part of it. My attire would horrify a serious rider. Most of it is jeans and old fuzzy jackets.

No Spandex in sight.

It doesn't all work

One thing I dislike about Karate is explanations that just can't work. This usually has something to do with movements in Kata. I love Kata, and every move has at least one meaning. What I hate is simple, throw-away explanations.

At the third rising block in Heian Shodan. "You break your opponent's arm." Really? You just do a rising block that smashes through a 2 inch diameter bone. Really? Sometimes it's explained as "Grab the arm, twist, and as you pull down you break your opponent's arm." Really? I've done that move on people, and had it done on me many times. It hurts the tricep like crazy, but the bone is under no significant pressure at all.

Or Heian Nidan, nukite (spear hand strike). "You jam your fingertips into your opponent's solar plexus." Really? My money is on the torso, not on the fingertips.

So often the easy, but silly explanation is taken as gospel. Anytime the move is to break a bone, or to attack with a weak weapon, it should be thought as a code to mean, "This is NOT the explanation, and you better try and figure out what is a better truth."

I like looking for better truths. Sometimes I find one. More often I find an instructor who has done the research, and who shares with me. Often, blocks are really attacks, and attacks are blocks, or done differently than the obvious. Sometimes a block is a throw, or a kick is a diversion. My old instructor, Sakurai Sensei is a master at this. Living near my home, Ogawa Sensei, is also a genius at this form of Karate.

Most instructors, even good instructors, just don't have the interest or the knack.

I wish I were better at it, but at least I learn from the best.

Karate Stuff

There is so much to be exposed to before one can wear the coveted Black Belt. Of course, there is the obvious stuff, like stances and kicking and blocking and punching. That's not what I mean.

There are the Katas, each of up to 75 moves, which most be done perfectly correctly.  Nope, that's not it either.

I mean stuff like breathing. Everybody knows how to breath, but not how to do so for maximum effect. And which muscles does one squeeze in a particular situation.

Why so picky, if the basic movements are 'correct'? Because 'correct' isn't good enough. A Black Belt candidate needs to show that their brain knows the technical things, and that the brain has trained the body how to apply them properly.

This shows up in all the test sections, in the kihon (basics), Kata (forms), and even in the Kumite (fighting).

An example is the very first technique done in the entire exam. It is a triple punch. Step forward with the right foot, punch with the right hand, then the left hand, then again with the right. Sounds easy, expecially if one is young, fast, and athletic. Wrong. It's very technical. On the first punch one moves the hips in a way known as hip vibration, on the second, the hip is cocked back and delivers hip rotation, on the third, the hips again perform hip vibration.

I get a kick out of activities where one claims one is an expert after an absurdly short period of training. It took me just over 4 years to receive my first degree Black Belt (Shodan). Was I an expert? Not bloody likely.

In Karate, one is considered a beginner upon earning Shodan. It is time to START learning. Sort of like saying, "you have completed kindergarten, and can now enter grade one".

I prefer the Japanese version of expert to the western one. I'll never consider myself a Karate expert, even if someday I become one.

What Good is Karate, anyhow?

What good is Karate? Hard thing to answer.

Study for a couple of years, and you'll improve fighting ability greatly. Funny thing is that I've never been in a real fight, so who cares if I can kick and punch? Turns out I don't really need self-defence.

Karate is good exercise, I guess. If somebody wanted to join our club solely for health, I'd send them away. Yoga, or Pilates, or tons of other stuff are more healthful. Karate is not good for back problems, or bum shoulders, or hips. We use all those parts in a very, very harsh fashion, which causes a bucketload of strain. Fair percentage of Black Belts have some kind of interesting knee injury.

So what has it really done for my life?

I never wanted to teach Karate, but inherited that role by necessity. Got pulled into teaching the adults first. After a while, I began to enjoy it, and I turned out to be pretty good. Next I was pulled into taking over the kids classes. Didn't think I liked kids. Turns out I do, and was good at teaching them, too.

My wife is a school teacher, and I'd been watching her career, and started to be envious. She got to teach, and I was an lousy appliance salesman. When my job ended, I decided to go back to University to become a real teacher, too.

Got my degree, and entered the teaching profession.

Can't imagine any other sport that could have gotten me into a career I really, really love.

Never Was A Champion

Growing up, I was never the athletic kid. I liked comic books, and TV, and a hundred other indoor, solo activities. Did all the outdoor stuff for fun, like scratch baseball games, but was low in the pack in ability. Wasn't the kid that got picked last, but a long way from first either. Didn't matter in day-to-day life, but I never joined any teams as a result.

Not choosing sports didn't help the situation any. Wasn't a klutz, but never got any good.

Fell in love with Karate. It was different from other sports. You do it in a packed room, while being all alone. Nobody cares if your punch gets better, except you. Your weak kick will never be the one that lets the other team get a home run.

I was pretty good. Turns out I have a well above average sense of spatial awareness, so Kata memorization came easily. I inherited my family's lack of flexibility, so it wasn't all easy.

Weak flexibility meant I'd always have limited kicking prowess, at least up high. We all have our burdens. Turns out I don't have a very good reaction time. That can only be slightly improved by vast amounts of training. Also, not being athletic, means my body doesn't naturally do cool things by itself. Anything cool I can do in Karate comes from endless preparation and practise.

Do I sound like an off-the-shelf great fighting machine? If so, you better read it all again.

In tournaments, I did pretty fair in Kata. Tons of practise is the key there. Wasn't a champ, but it also wasn't embarrassing. Got the odd medal. Fighting was another kettle of fish. After getting blown away in a couple of events, I started counting.  Spread out over my first 3 or 4 events, I went 11 matches without a win. Usually, I wouldn't score a single point.

Very discouraging, but then I began scoring more often. I'd win the odd match. Got good enough that even serious fighters can't take me too lightly.

I can teach students how to fight well, and help them achieve tournament success. I'm kinda Angelo Dundee, not Muhammad Ali. It suits my personality better, too. I get more pride out of my students' success than I've ever have had in my own.

Funny, I'm also a school teacher.

 

Running

I've been running for a bit less than 20 years. I started for fitness reasons. Can't remember much more than that, as it was a very long time ago. Used the car to measure my very first route. Set a goal of one mile out, and one mile back. Was proud of myself for making it.

Soon found it too mindless, so ran with music, and later with podcasts and audio books. Started with a cassette tape player, for Pete's Sake, then went through a cd player or two. Had one of the early mp3 players. It was big and held almost nothing. On to better and better players. Finally got an ipod in 2009, and then a better one.

My wife didn't like my running at first. She was scared I'd wreck my knees, but after a decade or so seemed to accept it. Now she's my biggest supporter whenever I head out, even when I do something stupid like the half-marathon I ran today. It's my second one. Does that count as having completed a marathon?

Sadly, the race people publish our times and I can't help checking how I compare. Not really well, it turns out. Beaten by all the young folks, and most of the geezers my age. Two of the dudes in the 70 and over category beat me, one of them by over 20 minutes. Bastard.

Anyhow, I run. It's become as much a discipline as an exercise. I run every day I'm not working, except for sacred rest Fridays. If I miss a day, I make it up later. If I know I'm going to miss, I might make it up beforehand. It's all good.

To quote Dory, "Just keep swimming...just keep swimming...just keep swimming..."

First Tournament

My first tournament was one hosted by our sister club in Dawson Creek. For competitors there were a heap of white belts, lots of Yellows, herds of Orange, me solo at Green, no Blues at all, 2 Purple Belts, and a single Brown Belt.

Being the only one my rank, I expected to be put in with the Orange Belts. Never considered they'd put me with the Brown and Purple Belts. I would be two ranks lower then the lowest of them. No way. No way at all. Surely they'd stick me with the group one rank lower....surely.

Nope. My category became Green, Blue, Purple and Brown Belts, with no Blues.

Did I mention it was my first tournament? Man up, you say? There was going to be both Kata and Fighting...I mean Free Sparring. As our club was all White, Yellow, and Orange Belts, and me a single Green, we'd never actually ever learned about Free Sparring. The other club did it all the time. Do I mean we didn't learn the finer points? Nope. I mean I'd never ever done it.

Didn't matter too much for our Whites, Yellows, or Oranges. Every competitor in those groups were from our club, so all were virgins together. I was the sole sucker in a group trained in fighting, but who had never fought.

Oh well. I was in a small group, after all.

Kata time. Kata is solo forms, not fighting. I did my very best Heian Yondan. I was the first in my group to perform, so as I bowed and backed away finished, I was momentarily in FIRST PLACE. The pride. Next up was one of the Purple Belts. Surprise, I remained in first. Next, the other Purple, and I remained in first. Lastly, the Brown Belt. He did I Kata that looked real tricky that I'd never seen before. The bastard stole my Gold Medal...but I did get Silver.  Wooo Hooo. Now time to fight.

I fought first. Typical. Went up against the Purple guy I considered the weakest of the lot. Weak, is a relative term. He held two ranks on me, plus fighting training, and was much bigger than me. The ref called begin. My opponent shuffled forward fast and scored within seconds, landing a punch to my body. Halt. Back to center. Begin. He did the exact same thing and scored again. He got a half point each time, and a full point is an instant win. Match over. Duration about 10 seconds, tops.

My next match was the Brown Belt. Lovely. At least it wasn't over in nanoseconds this time. He scored a half point on me, but was having trouble getting a second to end it early. He seemed to really want to end it, and he got fancy. He threw a spinning back kick. I was a tad unready, as I'd never seen one before. Maybe he expected me to move, or maybe his distance was off, or maybe he was mean. He hit me really, really hard.

Karate sparring is supposed to be non-contact. What is really meant by this is light contact. This means that attacks to the face can only just barely touch the face, and body shots are supposed to go whump, but not really do any damage.

He hit me really, really hard. My lungs decided air was too heavy to haul around, and so they expelled it all and refused to allow any more in for a while. The ref called us back to our start spots. Being a rough, tough Karate guy, I didn't show my distress. Not supposed to. The judges considered Brown's kick. They decided that he'd hit too hard to be allowed a point, but not hard enough lose a foul point.

Brown seemed to really like his spinning kick, as he kept throwing it. Being a gormless idiot, I never figured out how to stop him hitting me hard. He kept hitting just like he had before, meaning they never gave a point for the kick, but also never deducted a foul for excessive contact.

It hurt, and I was really frustrated, but I couldn't stop him. "OK," said my brain that couldn't leave well enough alone, "if I can't make him miss, I'll throw myself into the kick, and when he lands it on me he'll fly out of bounds, and I'll get a foul point out of him for that". Worked perfectly. Sadly, it made his kick land much harder, but I was ecstatic. Also sadly, there is rule about not losing a foul point for going out of bounds when pushed. They considered his kicking my guts as me pushing him out of bounds.

He won by decision. Big surprise. My last match was me with two loses, up against the guy with two wins. He beat me by decision.

No fighting medal for me. My victory? I did better with each match, against progressively better opposition. The cost became evident in the changeroom afterwards. My entire ribcage was a mass of bruising. I looked kinda like I'd been murdered by a motorcycle gang with chains and baseball bats. The most interesting mark was a perfect footprint shape nearly dead center.

It all healed.

Roots

There are a great many martial arts in the world. I've been lucky enough to have dabbled in a couple. Perhaps dabble is too generous a term, but it will do for now.

As a kid, back in the Adam West Batman days, there was a another TV show called The Green Hornet. The main character was a secret-agent type guy with a ten-cent mask, a trenchcoat, and no super powers. He'd punch out badguys one at a time. His faithful sidekick wore a spiffy masked chaffeur's outfit, was Asian, and fought like nobody I'd ever seen before. While his boss would struggle with one baddie, Kato would polish off the other ten or twelve. Can you guess who played Kato?

That was pretty much my martial arts contact in early life.

Spent a few years as a young adult in Canada's Army Reserve. One sergeant volunteered my squad into a Judo group. He had just gotten his Black Belt. Once a week for a month or two, he tried to teach us something, or perhaps tried to inspire us. It didn't take at all. Judo in army boots is just wrong. As soon as we were allowed to unvolunteer, we did.

Next contact was joining Karate in Ft. St. John, and am still involved in that.

Helen and I tried Tai Chi for a few months. Liked it for what it was, but whenever they would try and relate it to fighting they lost me. Neither the moves, nor the philosophy lined up.

Did some informal training in weapons, principally Bo (big stick), and Sai (heavy metal whackers). Liked them, but can't claim to have gained any enlightenment from them.  They did feel way cool.

I've done fencing classes a few times. Poking people with a foil or epee is fun. Pretty good at it for a low-level old guy. Many of the leg moves and stances are Karate-esque. I'll likely do this again sometime. Quite a jolly form of evening exercise.

A summer or two ago, while in Victoria, I trained in Iado. Talk about cool. That's the Japanese art of drawing the sword. Draw, slice slice slice, re-sheath. Always wanted to know something about that. I didn't get enough training time to get any good at it. All the experienced people could make their blades hum through the air, just like a bad sound effects job in a Lord of the Rings movie. The rookies blades were silent. Why couldn't I make mine sing? Decades of Karate practise made no difference. No swoosh. They said there was no trick. It just would take repetition. I understand repetition.

So if you try a martial art, and you don't make a swoosh. Remember...
...repetition.