Beside my shoes

I was fed up tonight and didn't want to go training. It had been a lovely day and as it was a bank holiday it all had the feeling of a Sunday evening. I don't train on a Sunday evening. and I was tired. But I hauled my ass onto my bicycle and by the time I'd got to the river I was feeling much better. 

Still fed up though. Very curious feeling of indifference but I managed to get there, change, help out with samu and then into the lesson. I didn't have that usual corporeal heaviness when I'm having trouble concentrating. My body was ok despite my mental mist and I eased through the warm-ups and was lucid during kihon but there was a strange dream-like sensation. The French have a saying which sums up how I felt: "à côté de ses pompes" (to be beside one's shoes). This strange out of body experience: as if I were standing next to myself. Not quite right.

All this despite good tuition, smiles and help from colleagues and at the end a feeling of having learnt something (potentially profound).

I still couldn't shake that feeling of being à côté de mes pompes, but I'm glad I went.

Train, train go away

I missed Shorinji Kempo training on Monday due to a slight illness and as I was thinking through a few techniques today I found they weren't as fluent as I'd have liked. It's amazing what effect a week or so away from training can have. 

Bored

When I trained in Tang Soo Do I really didn't want to be there. As I warmed up my calves felt like lead: really heavy and stiff. I jogged round the dojang cursing myself for not skipping it and putting my weary calves up on the sofa and sipping some whisky. But I was there. So I got on with it. It's important not to let that feeling linger otherwise you might as well leave the training hall. I have to admit it kept creeping in but part of training for me is to try and stay on task, stay focused: put in as much as you can to get good returns on your investment of time and energy.

Fatigue

On top of it all Alex decided to do some circuit training as a warm up! It's good sometimes to push your body and condition it up. You may well one day be glad of the extra work you put in when you really need to dig into the reserves you've built up over time. It's also good to push yourselves to the limit and then see how your techniques work. Can you cope? How does the technique cope? It was a good tonic too. I wouldn't recommend it every week though!

Wobbly hands and the dan jun

Strictly speaking hands that flapped back instead of pulling straight back. After thrusting out a front punch (reverse) it's easy for the arm to fold back in on itself as it returns. And this is the problem: I was letting the arm return and not actively engaging with the return mechanism. Consequently...good choong dan kong kyuck, poor return with the arm *bending* (gasp) at the elbow. Too much shoulder movement, not enough pulling it back with the dan jun (tanden). Out with the dan jun, back with the dan jun *in the same line on which it went out!* 

Ouch. Iaido hurts....

Hurts my ego, that's what Iaidio hurts. I find it difficult being told my iai is poor. I don't feel angry or aggressive towards the critic rather disappointed in myself or my performance. My good friend John thinks I'm hyper critical of myself and I think he's probably right. I need to find a balance between pushing myself towards an idea of perfection and trying to live like that and not being devastated if I drop off the path. Just get back up and back on...

And this is what I'm writing about. After two difficult iaido sessions I was driving home and felt glum. "I'm not going next week", I thought for about 2 seconds then in a sudden flash of realisation I shook my head to rid myself of that thought! Last week I my mind was unfocused, no zanshin, and certainly no mushin. I was so worked up I felt all hot and bothered and my mind kept wandering to the thought of global warming. This came about as I looked at the dark windows with mud streaks on them; for a moment I was fooled into thinking it was rain: but no rain! Mild weather for January, ergo: global warming. Consequently no mushin. Boo! The sadder aspect of this for me is that I didn't focus and get on with my iai. It affected my iai.

So this week came around and I was determined to diligently work through my setei iai. This was a good beginning mind set and I went about it seriously. Until sensei picked me up on something. You think I'm being petty? Well let me tell you- I think I was too! As ever he was kind and informative and coached me through Shihogiri and my ego was bruised. But there is no place for ego in the dojo. Especially when there are so many masters who have gone before who have shown humility towards younger and less experienced students. My lesson has been learned. I need to implement it now, next time my wanders. I wonder what the weather is like later....

Shihogiri

• The first strike with the hilt must show real intent to forestall the attacker. Large and powerful movement quickly executed!
• Draw the sword out and up to threaten this first opponent, with good sayabiki, the the threat is maintained. Once the sword is released and out at chest level, pivot the feet, do not step out.
• Thrust second opponent, strike first opponent, cutting him down.
• With a feeling of moving through ukenagashi the hands move up and back (or to the left of the head) as the body turns and moves towards third opponent. If an opponent was striking down at this time the body will already be moving away.
• Turn through waki gamae. Note: turn sword down first then body follows.
• Strike down fourth opponent.
• Return to jōdan-gamae. Crucially keep seme on the opponent and raise the tip of the sword first, as if cutting upwards along the centre line of the stricken man (in my case my opponent is a man)
  

Also see pp258-268 Japanese Swordsmanship-Technique and Practice by Warner and Draeger.