Karate Talk

An Open Styles Tournament

Participating in an "all traditional styles" karate tournament is always interesting.  The tournament yesterday was sponsored by the Wado-Kai association, and featured competitors from Wado-Kai, Wado-Ryu, Goju-Ryu, Shito-Ryu, and of course a strong Shotokan contingent, both ISKF and USANKF.  There were current and former US team members from 3 of the styles (3 from our Shotokan group, at least one from Goju, and at least one from Wado).  There were judges representative of all different types as well.  We've all competed together at these tournaments in the past (our region features 2 or 3 open styles tournaments every year) and it's fun to see old friends from prior competitions. 

It's also always fun to see the katas they do, and compare them to ours.  Some are almost the same as Shotokan, some you can trace a common ancestry but they've evolved quite differently.  Some bear no relation to anything we'd do in our dojo.  Some I really like and wish I could do! (others I'm really glad we don't!).  My husband did Sochin first, and a Wado friend demanded to know what kata that was as he exited the ring -- he'd really, really liked the style.  Empi, on the other hand, is almost identical in 3 different styles, even though the name varies.

The judging was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and I have mixed feelings about how it was done.  Generally, we will do flag eliminations in the first rounds, with people performing the same kata side by side for a direct comparison.  Of course, at an open styles tournament, that's impossible, so generally we will just have everyone do points, and have the top four competitors do a second kata for placing.  Of course, this can and frequently does result in ties, and so those people will end up doing one or more additional katas until the deadlock is resolved.  This time we all did points to select the top four.  Then, they did a modified flag elimination.  They brought out two of the top four, and had one go into the ring while the other knelt and watched.  The first person did their kata, bowed out, then the second person entered and did kata.  Then both entered the ring, and the judges did flags to determine which they preferred.  Then the remaining two of the top four did the same.  The winners of those two elimination rounds did a final round in the same way to determine the winner; the losers of those rounds tied for third.  The good part was that there were no ties, and it moved things along quickly.  The bad part was that due to luck of the draw, in at least two cases, the people who clearly should have placed first and second were up against each other in the first elimination round, and therefore, one of them would lose that round, and could place no higher than third no matter what. 

Our group did well, with most of the people from our style/region placing in the top four in their divisions, and a few wins. 

As I've mentioned several hundred times in this blog, I do NOT like competition.  I generally develop a fine case of jelly legs, and display lots of shaking and poor form while I'm out there.  I had been getting a lot better about it, and then a year or so ago regressed and my last two tournaments I have performed quite badly.  On top of all that, competing in the adult black belt divisions makes for a really long day because you compete very late in the day.  We arrived at the tournament venue at 9:00AM to cheer for two children from our dojo who were competing, then basically had to sit all day, trying to keep warm and stretching intermittently.  You don't always know when they'll call your division, so around noon most of us quit eating because none of us likes to compete with food in our stomachs.  My division was the very last one called, and we didn't begin until after 4:00PM, at which point I'd warmed up and cooled down twice, and had eaten exactly one granola bar and one carbohydrate gel pack all day.  I was weak, tired, stiff and cranky, and just wanted it over with, and there was no way, in that condition, that I could perform well. 

So how did I do?  Well, I was fourth up in the brackets.  However, the first two people had already left.  That meant I went second.  I walked to the edge of the ring on tired legs, and had flashbacks to the last tournaments where my legs had actually sort of given out on me and I'd stumbled, or hopped a bit, in the middle of kata.  Suddenly I was determined that no matter what else, that would not happen.  Period.  So I marched out with all the confidence I could display, announced my kata in a strong voice, and turned on the turbo jets.  I was shaky, but I did not shake, nor did I stumble.  I rushed a bit, but I was solid.  It was arguably the best tournament performance I've ever done.  I didn't place in the top four in my ring (the top four consisted of two senseis, one sempai, and one former national team member!) but I finished in the middle of the pack and could walk away holding my head up, having gotten three 7.0 scores and two 7.1.  I was also cocky enough to be miffed at a couple of people who had placed higher than I did, since I'd beaten both of them last August with a much weaker kata.  I realize that's the luck of the draw when you have judges from another style, but I was eager to go out and compete against them again, with all Shotokan judges, and see how far my kata really had come since the last matchups.

What do you mean we don't have another tournament until March??  I love tournament!

LOL

Competitive vs. Combative

The competitive nature is a tricky thing to precisely define, and even trickier to gauge the relative worth of.  Is a competitive nature necessary to really excel at something?  Can it ever go too far?  And just what constitutes true excellence?

Philosophical ramblings, yes, but ones that affect everybody, every day, whether consciously or not.  With a tournament coming up this weekend it has been much on my mind.

The answers, I think, are partly personal and partly cultural.  They can also be seemingly contradictory.  For example, I know myself to be a very competitive person in some respects.  However, I hate competing.  I've had a lifetime to analyze this and it seems that while I like to excel, I never like the agitation and conflict of open competition.  Therefore, I set my own private competitions.  I'll pick a score or a time to beat, I'll pick a person I'd like to beat, but I don't make a big production out of it.  Usually I'm the only one who knows how much I wanted to best them!  This helps me keep my perspective, keep my emotions under control, and to be a much more gracious loser if (as often happens) I don't achieve my goal.  If everyone knows that I'm competing, everyone starts watching me, and I feel like they are looking at me much more critically.  I get rattled and don't perform as well.  Then I wonder what they're thinking.  If I fail I wonder if they're looking down on me; if I succeed, I wonder if they feel I deserve it based on a less-than-stellar performance.  Win or lose I am never satisfied, which defeats the whole purpose of setting goals.  I shouldn't care what other people think of me, but sometimes I do.  That's just how it is.  So I prefer to keep my losses private, and am willing to keep my victories relatively private to keep the balance.  In the end, it's ultimately for me.  At this point in my life (not true at younger ages, I must admit), I must also say that I think the reason the public attention on my competition bothers me is that in my mind, it really is just about bettering myself, and I resent other people placing expectations on it or affecting the outcome when that's not what I was aiming for in the first place.

So much for the personal.  On to the general.  In America, we live in a culture which encourages and rewards competitiveness.  This is not necessarily either good or bad, it just is.  Capitalism is an economic system built upon competition with other suppliers.  Athletes, movie stars, CEO's, are all awarded monetarily and with public acclaim for rising to the top of their particular endeavor.  We admire and respect those who succeed.  I don't think there's anything wrong with this, unless of course you look down on someone who didn't succeed, or think they're less worthy somehow.  It's good to have role models, people who have worked hard to achieve their own goals.  It's even valid when that person was just lucky -- it can be very helpful to remember that sometimes things just work out in your favor whether you really deserve it or not!

The bright side of a competitive nature is that it can drive people to push their own boundaries, to strive for more and bigger and better.  This is where great ideas and achievements are born.  Nothing brand new comes from walking down the same path as 100 other people before you, doing the exact same thing, and never wanting or even imagining more -- although there is much to be said for appreciating the scenery and being content.  It could even be said that the ability to slow down and even realize that there is scenery is a victory in itself.  This mindset might be characterized by saying that just finishing the task is the important thing.  Finishing in the top ten, top five, top three, is just the icing on the cake.

The dark side is that some people begin to think that the victory is the only thing that matters, and that if they don't "win", then they've wasted their time walking the path and gained nothing.  They don't see any scenery along the way because they're always looking past the horizon.  In these cases, people will frequently change to a new endeavor and try to "win" at that one, not realizing that they may have made contributions to others and to themselves that were far more important than winning, and now they've walked away from it.  They will also feel like a failure each time they don't rise to the top of the heap, and since we can't always win at everything we do, this leads to some serious personal issues.  This mindset might be characterized by saying that second place is just first loser.

Other cultures have a radically different approach.  In other cultures, the accomplishments of the individual are deemed secondary to the accomplishments of the group, whether that be your family, your school, your team, your company, your generation, or even your entire society.  There is still an importance placed on winning, but winners are celebrated not because they are great in themselves, but because they helped the greater unit achieve a victory.  In some ways this might be even more pressure, since if you fail, you don't just let down yourself, you are letting down your parents, your teachers, your boss, your coach, your country.  On the other hand, a group can achieve an overall victory by strong performances from the greater part, without any need for individual star power.  You don't always have to be the winner yourself, as long as someone steps up to the plate.  This mindset might be characterized by saying that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

So how important is it to "win"?  That's a tough question.  In a karate tournament, winning says something to your fellow competitors, says something for your instructors.  It's a reward for hard work.  There are a lot of people who train their tails off who will never win, though, and some who don't train as hard but are naturally gifted and win often.  Usually, the winners combine both traits, hard work with natural ability, and set a great example for everyone else.  Hopefully, they are humble in their victory, acknowledging that it is part luck, and encouraging others by example -- still working hard, and encouraging you to join them. 

However, some people take competitive to extremes.  It's one thing to have a competitive nature that compels you to strive for success, it's another thing to think you must, you should, win at everything, every single time, especially when you need to see someone else fail in order for you to succeed.  If you feel that way, you can never graciously allow someone else to come out above you.  Everyone is a potential adversary, every situation is a potential competition.  Some people seek out competitions where none exist, and start competitions with other people who want no part of it.  Life becomes a combat arena, every encounter a fight to be won.  The competitive person has to win and will resent anyone who beats them, even if that other person was just doing their thing and wasn't even aware they were in the battlefields.  This is when competitive turns combative.  I've known a few people like this and they were never really happy with anything -- and they couldn't keep friends for very long either, because inevitably, they would start competing with them and resenting it when they lost.

In life, success is important in that it can gain you financial security, it could mean that you've managed to marry the one you love with all your heart, it could mean that you've overcome a serious illness or other setbacks, and come out stronger on the other end.  Success can mean that you weren't satisfied with being average, and busted your hump to gain something that no one else thought you could achieve.  So success IS important.

But there's a saying in American football:  "On any given Sunday, any given team could win."  There's another saying, "You have only failed when you have failed to try."  Trite but true.

So in my opinion, competition is something that can be healthy if kept in its proper perspective.  Work hard to prepare, try your hardest at the time, give the most and best you can, and then leave it by the roadside.  That moment is over and done with.  Learn your lessons, whatever the outcome, then let it go and move on.

I'll try to remember all this fine, high-minded philosophy as I stand outside the ring on Saturday waiting my turn to go out and perform  =).

True Self-Defense

Thought for the day:

The best form of self-defense is avoiding the conflict in the first place.

How is Karate Like Algebra?

Many years ago, I sat in a school classroom with about 30 other people, all of us learning algebra.  Some of us were excited about it, some of us were not.  Some people found it easy, some didn't.

One boy in the class with me was disgusted.  "This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen," he said to me right before dropping out to take business math.  "I don't need to learn this, I'll never use this stuff in real life!"  I, on the other hand, was thrilled to be moving beyond basic math and into something more intellectual, and could have cared less whether or not I'd ever use it in real life.

Many years later, both of us are successful, happy people.  He runs a business, has all the math skills he needs, probably never thinks of algebra, and certainly harbors no regrets for not taking it.  I took algebra and many advanced math courses beyond it, and learned abstract thinking and problem solving.  Although no one ever asks me to solve problems about trains traveling in different directions, I have no doubt that I use algebra and its processes regularly in my life.

There are people who don't want to do certain types of martial arts, or certain martial arts exercises, because "I'll never use that in real life".  There are people who will feel that their dojo time is well spent even if they never once use a karate technique on someone in a real life situation -- who, in fact, would prefer to never engage in a fight for the whole of their existence.

Is one right, one wrong?  Neither?  Both?  That depends on your perspective.  It's not an absolute.

The "real life" school wants to learn things that will be practical, that they can use to win a fight.  They want full contact sparring, less emphasis on fuzzy philosophy, and the opportunity to train with people who go at them.  High energy, lots of physical challenges, and lots of directly stated practical advice.  Strike the body here, with this technique, to knock someone out.  Strike here, this way, to kill someone.  Strike here, this way, to disable someone.  Strike here, this way, to blind someone.  Etc., etc.  This is the true purpose of the martial arts, to prepare you to fight, right?

The opposite end of the spectrum regards this as a lamentably thug-like approach.  Just what do you do in your daily life, they wonder, that you feel the need to know how to kill people with your bare hands, and want the precise details on how to do it?  Modern military relies on armored vehicles, high powered weapons, and bombs, self-defense relies on common sense and a good spray of Mace.  Martial arts are a disciplined exercise steeped in history and tradition that can strengthen mind and body, an elegant and esoteric pursuit of a higher you.  The everyday uses of dojo fighting are limited, at best, but might give you some help should you get jumped walking down a dark alley (which you of course would never do!).

Most people obviously fall somewhere in between these extremes.  There are many martial arts, many martial artists, many styles, many teachers, many dojos.  This is why I say to shop around and do your homework before you join a dojo or take up a martial art, to make sure that you are studying something compatible with your own philosophy, and that you will be training with and under people who offer what is most important for you.

And if at all possible, try not to be too condescending about those who don't agree with you.  Remember, nobody's going to agree with you or think you're right all the time.  Not even your mother!