I just can’t do it…

… Those were my thoughts at our last training session. My body is letting me down! I know I’ve not been training in TKD for long, so this will probably not be the only time I’ll have to pass this hurdle. However this is the first time for me and I know it’ll require a lot of work to get over it.

The situation is simple, I’ve started learning the basic side kick just as I got promoted to green belt (we start using kicks rather late in our school and the reasons why are more than apparent to me at the moment) at the beginning of July, and I’m really struggling with it. Not that I have bad coordination, or for the lack of trying, but my body is letting me down good and proper. I lack the strength (the main issue) and the flexibility (a minor problem just now, but this will become more of an issue for higher kicks) in my hips to execute the technique correctly. I know what I’m doing wrong, I know how I should do it correctly, but I physically can’t. I’m not even trying to kick high, hip height at most.
So far I’ve progressed really well in my training (disclaimer: this is my personal opinion and may not reflect the thoughts and views of my master or my fellow students. Hahaha) and, given enough practice, I managed to at least get the techniques I’ve learnt reasonably correct. But no matter how hard I try, the side kick eludes me. This to me is very frustrating, but I will not give in that easily!
So my plan for the next two months is to really focus on building up strength in my hips and working on my flexibility outside of our regular classes, with the ultimate goal of finally nailing that elusive side kick. I shall try and post regular updates on my progress, but I can’t promise anything at this stage :-P
Wish me luck…

In your face

Last night I had one of the enjoyable training sessions for months. I’ve been going through a rough patch lately and it has really affected my training, but last night I was really motivated and in good spirits, which really made a difference.
One of the main lessons from this session was how we interact with an opponent, which was demonstrated through an application of Steps 17 and 18 of Taekwondo pattern Dan-gun (my master actually describes this in his blog much better than I ever could). Anyway, as we were performing the application our instructor stepped in and demonstrated it again to us, focusing our attention on the facial expression of his opponent. And indeed there was a sincere look of fear/surprise, which none of us had managed to invoke on our respective opponents. Why was this so? As he demonstrated the application again on each one of us, we realised that his hands were much closer to the opponents face right after the block than when we had tried it. This created a false impression of proximity, which in a situation like this was very intimidating, which in a real life threat situation can win you vital seconds.
So what’s the lesson? Stay in your opponents face!

Playing the Game

In our school, we start sparring relatively late compared to other schools. Basic sparring techniques are introduced at orange belt level, limited to movement in relation to the opponent, defence against slow and predictable arm swings and breathing techniques.

About a week ago, maybe two, I had my first sparring session with our master, which to me is always a daunting (he is freakishly fast and his technique is awesome!), after my promotion to green belt, so unlike the “usual” arm swings I was expecting, he started laying it on me good and proper with kicks (some/most of which I’ve not even been taught yet) and punches. I was a bit overwhelmed to say the least. At least I managed to avoid a major catastrophe, but I recon that was more a result of my physique (I am after all about 20cm taller and 15 kg heavier that our master) than my technique.

Last Sunday’s training session saw me sparring against our master again. This time however he said that I can use (or better: try to use) a centreline punch as a weapon against him. (I must have done something right the last time we sparred to deserve this). Anyway, about 2 minutes into our session I hadn’t fired off a single punch and my master stopped to ask me why I wasn’t attacking, so I told him why. I simply couldn’t get myself to do it. Not because I was hesitant or afraid of hurting him (although that was part of the reason; there was no way I could properly control my punch in the midst of a sparring session), but because I was more focused on not getting the sh*t kicked out of me. I put all my focus on defending and wasn’t even looking for a way to land a punch.

At this stage my master made a really good analogy. Sparring is like playing numerous games at once. The main game is how you move in relation to your opponent and the environment. Then you have the game of defending against strikes, which is going on at the same time. By allowing me to attack he just added another “mini-game” to the mix. Attacking basically involves finding an opening (while still playing the other two games) and then going for it at the right time and then going back to playing the other two games; or, if the opening closes before you can profit from it just resuming with the other two games. My guess is that this “mini-game” will expand a bit, once I can (and I mean when I’m able to, rather than allowed to here) use a few more techniques, and probably include opening/creating a gap in addition to finding one sooner or later. But these are things I’ll not worry about for now. At the moment I’ll need to learn how to play the games’ basics.

Changing the way I think

This entry is as a response to one of my master's blogs.

I was surprised to actually see this blog entry, because I initially thought of this as a relatively insignificant event. However, the more I think about it, the more significant it becomes. It is a very good example of something I've noticed regularly in classes lately.

When I first started training TKD, I thought of it as a rigid concept with exact patterns and established applications. Therefore, I’ve never allowed myself to look beyond the specific application I’ve been taught. But now that I see others going through the same learning process this is changing. Incidents such as the one described by my master, where other students learn a slightly different variation of an application of a technique, made me think that maybe our style isn’t as rigid as I originally thought.

When we train applications of a technique in class these days, I catch myself more and more often trying out my own variations. This includes looking at different angles of entry, following up a block or evasive manoeuvre with different counter attacks, etc. I wouldn’t go as far as doing this with techniques I’ve just learned, but more with those I’ve been taught a while back and am more comfortable at performing. As I stated above, I’ve “caught” myself doing this, i.e. I’ve not consciously tried to come up with a variation to an application, hence these variations are minor. I think however that in time (and with a lot more practice and experience), I might become a bit more adventurous. For now though, I’ll keep “my” variations to little things, but perhaps with a more conscious approach, incorporating thoughts as to how I could make a technique work better for my own needs/abilities.

The main thing to take from this for me is that I should no longer look at our style as rigid, but rather as fluid and constantly adapting to the situation. For my study of applications this will perhaps take the focus from the “how is it done” (which is still the main focus when practicing specific techniques, particularly with new ones) to “what is it trying to achieve”.

Application of a Technique

Yesterday’s training sessions saw us doing a variety of different applications and although the actual techniques varied there was a red thread running through them… at least for me there was. I was struggling with one particular aspect, which I haven’t focused on before, in all applications irrespective of the technique. I just wasn’t able to react to my opponent (actually, I don’t like that expression much, because it implies some element of animosity. I’ll refer to it as training partner or partner from now on) in the way I should have, or better wanted to.
I’ve never been so conscious of the difference between performing a technique and applying it against a training partner. I’m not sure if this is a reaction to my increasing awareness of how techniques (should) work or something else, but in any case I felt like I just couldn’t apply the technique properly. When doing the technique without a partner I seemed to do ok, but as soon as I tried to apply the technique I couldn’t control what I was doing.

I tried assessing why this was the case during class and came to the conclusion that this is only natural. When practicing on your own you don’t have to account for another person’s presence, movement, timing, weigh, etc. Hence, being off by a few centimeters or seconds won’t affect your technique all that much (or so it seems), but when you have to apply the technique and have to account for another person’s behavior, things are very different.

Unfortunately, this insight didn’t help me much and as class progressed, I became increasingly frustrated with my inability to perform the techniques properly. My instructor must have picked up on this frustration and wisely told me that it’s all just a matter of practice and that in time I will get better; very good advice and probably very true as well. However, I’m notoriously impatient and always want to get things perfect right away, so I enquired how I could practice applications at home. My instructor’s simple answer: “You can’t!” This makes perfect sense; there is no way to practice training against a partner without a partner, seems logical, doesn’t it? What does this mean for me? I’ll just have to put maximum effort into every training session we have and make sure that I practice the execution of the techniques as much as I can outside of class, so that I can focus on the application when I have the opportunity.

Back in green

Well, it’s been a while since my last entry. The main reason for this is probably because I haven’t been training all that much over the past few weeks. Between my holidays, my instructor’s holidays and a brief illness, I have only attended about 2 or 3 training sessions since my grading. Speaking of… for those that care, I did pass and I’m now a loud and proud green belt. Our two white belts have also passed their grading by the way. Congratulations Nicole and Daniel, well done.

So what have I been up to? As I said, I’ve only started proper training again last week, so there hasn’t been much news. The main two points would be the side kick (which is killing my ridiculously underdeveloped hip muscles) and various applications of wrist locks (which are killing my… you’ve guessed… wrists).

My main focus at the moment is the side kick though, because I think I have a very long way to go before I’ll feel comfortable with it. For the first time since starting to train in TKD I feel that my physique is letting me down. I simply lack the strength and flexibility in my hips to properly practice the side kick. Therefore I’ve been doing a lot of exercises outside of class to remedy this (constant muscle soreness included).

In general the weeks without training have left me in a worse physical state than I’d like to admit. I’ve gained a good bit of weight and lost a considerable amount of flexibility and strength. It will take me a good few weeks to get back into shape, but I should get there, if I set my mind to it. Wish me luck…

It’s done…

Well, Sunday was grading day, and despite an ill timed night out on Saturday, I dragged myself up on Sunday morning with a hangover-deluxe.
Again, my training kicked in and I was able to focus on the task at hand, thank god for that.
To start off the day, we did a short training session consisting of our usual warm-up routine and then line drills performing most of the basic techniques we would be graded on shortly after. This had two purposes, one to give us a chance to rehearse the techniques one last time and two to fatigue us. Why fatigue us you ask? Simple, part of our training requires us to be able to control our thoughts and perform the techniques despite physical exhaustion.

But I’m sure the question on everyone’s mind is how I did. Well, I don’t know, I’m glad it’s not my job to assess my performance. I did the best I could and some things went well, others didn’t. I recon this time around I did show the best commitment I have done in all my gradings to date. Overall I had a pretty good feeling, but my perception is still that of a beginner and I’ll have to wait for my instructor’s feedback. I really do hope I passed, but even if I didn’t, I won’t worry about it too much, because I can always have another go, once I’ve practiced a bit more.

For what it’s worth, I thought our two white belts (also going through their grading on Sunday) did exceptionally well. Some of the techniques they performed were the best I’ve seen from them. Well done guys!