Karate Talk

Motivation

As I pondered teaching the kids last weekend, it got me to thinking.  The only way to keep the kids coming back is to make it fun, which is especially true for the younger ones.  We are very sensitive to issues like short attention span, which means you have to move things along quickly and keep switching activities or they'll get bored.  We are also very sensitive to physical limitations, realizing that a 4-year-old is going to have some balance problems and maybe can't turn that well, and will have trouble hitting the kiba-dachi (horse rider's) stance -- you can't pick on them too hard or they'll get frustrated and discouraged, you have to know when to back off and let it be "good enough".

We push the adults a lot harder, which is fair because most adults are stronger, have better balance, and a much longer attention span.  It's not universal though.  Plenty of adults are in bad physical condition, overweight or out of shape or with injuries that limit their movements.  Many have hearing or eyesight problems.  Most come into our mid-week classes after putting in a full day's work, so they're tired already.

But they still need to get enjoyment from karate, or they won't stick with it.  Naturally, there are those times when it's a struggle, but if it's all struggle and no reward, then there's no motivation to keep going. 

With kids, it is the instructor's job to make class "fun", and to know when to back off.  With adults, the instructor also needs to know when to back off, and that can be a delicate matter.  A sensitive instructor can usually pick up on frustration, but the next step is not clear-cut.  Sometimes, that student just needs some coaxing and encouragement, a little push, and they will make it past that frustration.  Other times, the student is done, and pushing will only make it worse; the best thing the instructor can do is say, "don't worry, it's a tough move but we'll keep working on it and you'll pick up soon," then walk away.

And what about fun?  Well, "fun" is not the element that is stressed in the martial arts for adults, that's for sure.  But it's just as essential to adults as it is to kids, even if "fun" takes different forms when you get older.  Martial arts is hard work.  You WILL get tired, you WILL get sore, you WILL get frustrated, and from time to time, you WILL get hurt.  That's the reality.  If that's the case, then you need some serious motivation to keep going back to the dojo, day after day, night after night.  And for most people, that means you need to enjoy your training, at least the majority of the time.

What motivates an adult?  Speaking only for myself, I have to say that my motivation changes all the time.  Some nights I am in the mood for a really great workout, I just want to go and push myself hard and really feel it.  Some nights I'm tired and frustrated from a bad day at work, and I want to lose myself in karate.  Sometimes I want to impress, like when there is a tournament or test coming up, so I train hard to make my stances as good as they can be, my timing and rhythm, my balance, my focus, as good as I can make them.  Sometimes, I move on to a more metaphysical approach, and revel in the feeling of being involved in something that has such a history, that I share with so many people all over the world, and realize that my dedication to the art is making me a better person on many levels.

So my enjoyment depends in part on what I'm looking for from my training that night.  If I want a good workout, then I'll leave happy if I'm exhausted and sweating.  If I want escape, then I'll leave happy if I managed to forget about the bad workday for an hour or two.  If I'm looking to impress, then I leave happy if I feel like I trained well, and particularly if sensei gives me some positive feedback.  If I'm in the metaphysical realm, then simple participation is its own reward.

And some days, I'll find myself laughing, truly having "fun", whether it's something funny the kids do (like the little girl last Saturday who decided halfway through class to start chirping like a bird instead of ki-ai-ing), or just a jovial mood in the dojo that day.  Those days, nothing about karate feels hard, even if I wake up the next morning stiff and sore and bruised. 

And I think those occasional silly days are as essential to serious training as anything else.

Karate for Kids

We have another crop of very little kids in our Intro class on Saturdays, including some 4-year-olds.  This always adds extra challenge to teaching, particularly since the jump in coordination and attention span from 4 to 5, and 5 to 6, is so great.

Last week, I got the kids group:  7 kids ages 4 to 6.  They were hyper too, all wound up and ready to roar.  Not ideal conditions for trying to teach karate!   Luckily, I had a brown belt girl to assist, or it would have been a serious case of cat herding.

I took my group off to the side, with their parents trailing after to watch what we were doing (I actually encourage this; we have nothing to hide, and it's good for the parents to see that we are responsible with their children).  Per usual with what I sometimes refer to as the "attention deficit group", I adopted an impossibly happy and energetic demeanor when working with them.  I was as happy and energetic and well-meaning as a little furry puppy, and overall managed to keep their attention and get them to work with me. 

Considering the age group, we made some really great progress:  I got them through tsuki (stepping punches), age-uke (rising block), and even halfway through taikyoku shodan.  They even managed to pronounce taikyoku shodan!  Interspersed with this, we had the "games", those essential breaks for the little ones where they feel like they're having lots of fun, but are still building skills:  hop on one foot (strength and balance); bear crawl (coordination); relay races.

I'm sure none of them practiced any of it this week, and they won't remember a darn thing tomorrow, but that's not important.  The important thing is that they have done this, and that they had fun.  Next time, they'll pick it up that little bit faster.  Each week, they will grow just a little in terms of strength, balance, coordination.  And if they keep having fun, then they will want to come back.  It's good for them, and it's good for us!

Karate Fitness

Karate is a way to keep fit.  Physical fitness is a component to better karate.

These two statements are both true, even though we all know people who do karate regularly and don't look like athletes; similarly, we all know incredibly fit people who are easily exhausted by the demands of the dojo.  However, there's no question that coming into training with a certain fitness level gives you an edge, in endurance if nothing else.  And karate is certainly great exercise.

At my current level, I have always kind of thought that karate itself would be sufficient to keep me strong and fit, and doing outside physical training was just a bonus.

I may or may not have been right (I was starting to wonder last fall if it wouldn't be a good plan to start doing my "karate fitness" regimen again as I was feeling a bit squishy), but a month or so of extremely scaled back training has made it a moot point.  I'm better off than your average couch potato, but nowhere near where I need to be.  My dojo time is suffering because I currently lack the endurance and power that I'm used to, so my body can't perform as it used to, and as it is being asked to.  This is frustrating to me, and I'm sure to sensei, seeing me go backwards rather than progressing.  My outside of dojo time isn't any fun either.  Right now, it's spent limping around whining about how sore and tired I am, and nursing bruises!

So it's time for the "karate fitness" regimen, taught to me by the best:  2 former National champions, and virtual fixtures on the national team for several years.  One of them has not only a 6-pack, but an 8-pack.  And this is how he does it.  I know from past experience how well it works, and that I will benefit on all levels.  It's simple, direct, and effective, requires no extra equipment, just extra time.  Anyone in karate, at any level, can do it, and will see results.  I did it for 3 months during team training sessions a few years ago, and was in the best shape I'd been in years by the end of it.  My karate made some great progress too.

Here's how it works:  Do a kata, do some pushups.  Do a kata, do some sit-ups.  Do a kata, do some squat kicks.  Repeat until you're through with katas.  You don't do the katas full speed, full power (you'd never complete the circuit); the idea here is form and focus.  It provides essential stance and form training, along with essential fitness.

In my case, I start with Heian Shodan, and work my way through all 26 Shotokan katas, followed by doing my test kata at least 4 more times (5 total).  I'll probably start off with 10 pushups and 10 situps, but in peak fitness I've done 50 at a shot.  Another variant on this is to alternate your test kata every other kata, so by the end, you've done all 26 katas, and done your test kata 26 times.  You can further vary it by doing front snap kicks (mae geri), side snap (yoko geri), jab punches, reverse punches (gyaku zuki) in addition to, or instead of, sit-ups and pushups, in between katas.

Obviously, as with any fitness program, you need to start conservative and make sure you don't over-do it.  But if anyone is looking for a great way to add something to your training, I highly recommend this.

Winter Training

I missed Winter Training (Kangeiko) this year.  The first time in 6 or 7 years that I haven't made it to at least one session, and occasionally the entire week, despite the hour's drive time each way.

It used to be that Kangeiko was a strictly personal challenge to me, something that I did to show my spirit.  I knew that black belts at the regional headquarters dojo were expected to show up, but I was off the hook for that, since I lived so far away.  Anything I did was bonus.  My personal goal was to try to demonstrate comparable spirit to my friends down there.

That situation is a bit different now.  Not only am I now a black belt, but I'm also in Instructor Training.  We are expected to lead by example, to not ask anything of our students that we do not give.  We are also expected to participate in all regional events, to help out and be active and involved.  All of these things mean that Kangeiko is no longer just my personal challenge, but more of an obligation.

All of these things I knew throughout that week, yet I did not attend any of the training sessions.  I knew, too, that there might be some fallout from that.  It put extra pressure on me during a time when my stress level was already through the roof, and faced me with tough choices.  I did what I could in terms of handling it properly, notifying the right person (the one we'd been told to notify) about what was going on in my life, and asking her to tell Sensei.  She emailed back that it was okay but do my best to make it to at least one session.  So, I did what I could.

Last night, I was spoken to about Kangeiko.  My absence had been noticed, and frowned upon.  Although I had known this would probably happen, it was discouraging.  It's a tricky thing, too, defending yourself.  I did point out that I'd emailed and let someone know, and had been acknowledged.  I wanted my sensei to know that I hadn't been irresponsible about it.

I've been thinking, though.  What did I do that week?  I rose early every day, and frequently left the house early to do something difficult.  I stayed up late at night.  I devoted my time, energy, and attention to something that was incredibly important to me, that was very challenging.  I faced deep personal struggles throughout that week, alternating between hope and despair, trying to stay strong and to do the right thing no matter what.  I made some tough decisions, after weighing the potential consequences on each side.

In the end, the only regret I would have had about Kangeiko week would be if I had abandoned a sick and frightened animal in the middle of the night, when she needed me.  I would have regrets that I could have spent that time with her, comforting and helping her, and did not.  I would have regrets that I couldn't face her illness and withdrew into my own activities, instead of loving her with my whole heart right up until the end.

So, I had my Winter Training.  My spirit was tested, my strength was challenged.  It was a trial by fire, something to be endured, and to hopefully come out the other end having gained something.  The only difference was, this year, my Kangeiko was not done via karate.

Resuming Rhythm

Before I talk about karate I'd like to thank everyone for their sympathy and kind comments, but must sadly share that my kitty was found to have diffuse cancer through her chest cavity, with a very bad prognosis.  The gut-wrenching decision was made not to wake her up to 3 more weeks of pain, but to let her go in peace.  I had, needless to say, a very very bad weekend, and did not train on Saturday morning.  My husband went, and shared our news with the rest of the dojo.

Last night I finally made it back to training, having purged the worst of the shock and grief, and being ready to try to get back to my normal routine after almost 3 months of constant disruptions.  People were very kind, offering their condolences about the kitty, including some that really surprised me.  The karate community proves, once again, its strength and supportiveness.

The training itself was, to put it bluntly, butt-kicking!!  We have some people planning to dan test in March, and trainings are going to be in high gear for the next month to really pound them into shape and get them ready.  We're going through various combinations of the sort they can expect to see as their kihon, doing some endurance work, reviewing katas, and working on reaction and reflex for their sparring.

All of these things are good for me, but I'll tell you, I'm really aware of how much training I've missed, and how many other things have been going on!  I haven't been sleeping well, or eating properly, and when I've trained at home I haven't "pushed" myself.  I finished class with shaking legs, and contempt for how poorly I felt I looked.  My husband says that I looked good, and since he's not known for pitching softballs, I will assume it looked better than it felt!

It was motivational though, in many ways, not the least of which is that it really hit home how much work I have to do if I am going to be expected to test again next summer.

Break's over!