![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
wickercabra, I talked about changing techniques. I wasn't specific about when the changes are okay in the main post (when you know you're doing them, not when you're teaching them), and I also wasn't specific about the reasons. So, rather than share my epic tale of almost getting spear set right, really, for serious this time, I thought I'd go into that.For sixth degree, I take two techniques at each belt pre-black (orange, purple, blue, green, brown) and two techniques from all of black, and I change those techniques. This isn't a wholesale change. We've got a lot of defenses against a right punch, and we don't need another one, so this isn't "I thought that this technique sucked, so I made a completely new one." The technique has to be one that another student could look at and say, "Yeah, that's still Key to the Sword, just... different."
(This is nebulous, but, to be completely unhelpful, you sort of know when it's still the same, and when it's different. Sometimes the difference is that you're doing the same movement, but it does something different -- a chop becomes a block, a check becomes a kick. Sometimes the difference is that you're doing moves that have the same rhythm, and the same purpose, but the actual moves are different -- a block becomes a parry, a chop becomes a palm-strike.)
And you have to justify what you're changing, and my teachers are not casual about why something is changed. For me, the justifications usually break down into one of the following categories:
Change Type One: What if...
The technique is against a left punch. What if you see someone wind up for the left, and your body instinctively moves into the defense, and then it turns out that it's a left-jab, right-punch combination instead of a big ol' haymaker with the left, which is what the technique was really designed for? What if you do the opening move, which in the school is a pull-throw, and instead of falling down, the opponent drops to one knee, and you're dealing with a kneeling opponent instead of a prone opponent? What if, what if, what if?
On THE STREET, you react the way you react, and whatever happens, happens, and as long as you walk away (or run away), and you and your family are alive and safe, you win. So this type of change is about learning to use the core idea of a technique in a way that deals with a suboptimal (or just different) situation.
Example: Key to the Sword (Purple Belt)
Normal: The attack is for an opponent grabbing your right shoulder from the right side with his left arm. You step away with your left leg, your left hand pins his hand to your shoulder as you go (pulling him), and then your right hand comes up with a key strike (striking with the second knuckle of the middle finger only -- pressure point strike) to his ulna nerve (just behind the elbow), followed by a key strike to his unprotected ribs. Then your right arm circles up and around and knocks his hurt arm down, and you finish with a chop to his throat (which is unprotected now that the arm is down). Fast, effective, nasty. I love this one. Not the most complex technique in the world, but it's in the second belt, so, you know, we're not teaching the death touch just yet.
Except that hi, I'm Patrick, and I live in Edmonton, where people are in heavy coats from September through April. Ever try to do a pressure-point strike on somebody wearing a thick poofy coat? Assuming you can still find the nerve (not easy, but possible), there's a ton of padding there, and your light, jabbing strikes really have to take a back seat to things that, you know, move the body.
The Change: I change the elbow-shot to an upward palm strike, and the rib-strike to a punch. I'm not going for pressure points, so I can't assume that the enemy is out of it. The palm strike might break the arm, or it might just lock the arm, which has to be good enough. The punch should hurt, but I have to assume that the enemy is still a bit more able than in the core technique, so now, as I circle the arm to knock it down, I also step back with my left foot, out of the enemy's line of attack. This loses the neck as a viable target, so I change it to a palm strike to the side of the jaw.
The technique is still recognizable as Key to the Sword. It's just adapted for winter use, as it were. May through August, I still use the normal version quite happily, but once the coats come out, I change to this one, and all is well.
Change Type Two: I Think...
These sounds a little heretical, but sometimes, techniques have flaws, especially at the lower levels. The flaws aren't killers, but they're there. Maybe flaws is the wrong word. How about "risks"? Maybe the technique goes too long without actually delivering damage. Maybe the technique leaves you open to something that, well, very few opponents will think to do, but could conceivably happen. Maybe it just doesn't generate as much power because it uses an easy stance instead of a hard stance.
Nine times out of ten, the reason for these risks is that the proposed solution is beyond the ability of the student for whom the technique is intended.
Example: Jaws of the Tiger (A) (Orange Belt)
Normal: For an opponent grabbing your right wrist with his left hand from the front. You step forward at a 45-degree angle and bring your right arm up, swinging across your body like a left-handed golfer just starting his stroke. At the same time, your left hand comes up to your right shoulder in a chop position... and then you pull your right hand back and your left chop-hand out at the same time, which means that, due to fun tricks of leverage, your opponent's grab is neatly broken, and hey, your right hand is cocked right there at your hip, ready for punching! You punch him in the solar plexus, and then you punch him in the head with your left hand.
This is a fantastic technique for a new student. I love this technique. However, this technique also has you going a full second without actually killing the enemy. Yes, you've stepped to the side, and his arm is in the way, and he doesn't have a great target on you for a punch, and he'd be off-balance for a kick -- this is by no means a slam on the technique; the positioning is good here. But still, an opponent who just dives at me as soon as I start moving is going to head-butt me or put an awkward knee into my groin before I finish the cool-grip-break and begin unloading my orange-belt-punches-of-death. I'm a fifth-degree black belt. I regularly do moves with three limbs striking simultaneously. I can fix this.
The Change: I alter the first movement, so that instead of just stepping, I'm stepping and doing a left-foot check to the inside of the enemy's left knee -- so it's more a right-foot-shuffle-hop instead of a step. And then, since I've got the leg up, I combine the grip-break maneuver with a knife-edge kick (side kick, hits with the outside edge of the foot) to the enemy's right knee. And then I do two strikes, just like in the normal version (although I change them to a high palm strike and a low punch, since my opponent will be in a different place, available-target-wise, due to what I've altered). My opponent doesn't have free time to hit me now. My first movement screws around with his balance, as does my second, and then the finish is fine (whomp, whomp), just like it was before.
And they're still the same techniques... just different.
Disclaimer: If you practice Kenpo, and your school wouldn't want you to look at these entries because they describe stuff that's supposed to be secret, then don't look. Since most everything I'm doing is on YouTube somewhere, I don't think I'm giving away a ton of huge secrets, but still, don't read these and then say that I'm leaking the sacred techniques of your style. It's my style, and I'm talking shop.
Got through all of these over the past couple days.
Spear Set: This one had some quality pain involved in it, since, as I suspected, I'm way out of practice with weapons, especially weapons that are hard to fake with empty hands. Faking sticks with empty hands? Not bad. Faking a staff or spear? Ech. Got it together in the end, and it feels technically good. I'll have to work on picking up the speed. (Also: no video clip of this one.)
2nd Degree Techniques: No problems here. I love these techniques. I know that there are people who try lots of different arts to get a wide range, and I've given up trying to convert them, but I still feel whatever the non-condescending form of pity is, because they're learning the basics of all these different arts, and it doesn't seem like they're ever learning the really cool parts. Like these techniques, for example. These techniques rock hard.
Kata Number 6: Had to hunt through YouTube online to find a clip of this one -- the bit at the beginning always throws me off with regard to which side I start on. Here's one of the clips I found -- the hand movements are a lot faster than I do them, but it looks like it's fundamentally the same thing, only with a soundtrack and more heavy breathing setup. (Incidentally, the hand movements being faster isn't necessarily good or bad. He's demonstrating more technical skill by doing them that fast, but an opponent isn't actually going to react that fast to the strikes, so there's a point at which you're doing the technique too quickly in certain parts. I'm not saying this very well -- it's as if you have a technique involving a punch to the gut, followed by a hammer-fist to the back of the head once the opponent is bent over. You can do the punch and then the hammer-fist really really fast, but since the average person, when struck, will crumple over the course of about half a second, doing the hammer-fist a tenth of a second after the punch isn't actually realistic.)
Storm Techniques: These are the stick techniques. I used a piece of rebar and a broken broomstick handle. My son was dutifully impressed and insisted on having a stick, too. No problems here, barring a lingering issue with where the targets are on Thunder and Storm. I've had that issue since learning the technique, though.
Eye of the Hurricane: This is the kata version of the stick techniques. No problems here. (Also, this one doesn't seem to be on YouTube, although I'm maybe not looking correctly. I'm guessing it goes under many different names.)
4th Degree Techniques: Empty hands again. No issues here.
Tomorrow, another big honkin' kata and knife techniques. Depending on time, I may do the knife kata as well. We'll see.
Hit the techniques (20-ish) yesterday and the katas (9-ish) today. The techniques were cake -- you do the brown belt techniques for a long time, and there aren't so many of them that you can lose one in the shuffle. Katas were a bit rougher.
Book Set: Someday, I will love this kata. Today, it still feels like something constructed to fill a gap, rather than because of a real need. It feels like a hybrid of Long 2 and Tiger & Crane, and I really like both of those katas, but... eh. Either it's teaching something I didn't need as much work on (simple stance-work with basic combination strikes), or it's teaching something I'm not ready to learn yet.
Mass Attack: (and no, I totally didn't almost write "Mass Effect" by mistake) This one was still there, with no errors, no problems, no issues. I really like 90% of this kata. Only at the end, where it seems to slow down a bit, is it less cool. The rest of the time, you are taking down hordes of imaginary bad guys, and every technique is aimed at defending against multiple attackers, and it's just... it's the flurry of motion that I always imagined martial arts as epitomizing.
Number Four: Still long. Still kills my legs about halfway through, when I reach the middle and realize that I still have the kneeling-down parts to get through. Ah, well.
Finger Set: Still got it, although living in Edmonton is moving me away from pressure-point strikes. I spend too much of the year wearing bulky gloves and surrounded by people in stadium coats to put a ton of faith in a spear-hand strike to the solar plexus. I still love eye strikes and joint locks and such -- things that would likely still work on somebody in winter gear -- but I may see about altering this (as an exercise, not as something to teach) to work in bulkier clothes. It's still great for target-work, though.
Number Five: This kata works on getting opponents on the ground, so every technique involves some kind of takedown and finishing sequence for a kneeling or prone opponent. As such, it's really great for the legs. One clunky spot where I was apparently just free-associating where I was supposed to step next instead of, you know, learning it. I still have issues with the bit at the end, but I've always had issues with the bit at the end, so hey, consistency.
Stick Set: Did it with my father-in-law's claw-tooth hammers (I was doing these in the garage during the worst snowstorm in recent Albuquerque memory). No issues, although I kept the pace slow, since accidentally flinging a hammer through the windshield of the car parked over on the other side of the garage would not really endear me to the Damsel's family.
Tiger and Crane: Still my nemesis. Still love it. Got through it after several tries that involved me having to walk around, clear my mind, try to do a part without thinking, and then see what my body was naturally doing to then try to remember it. There's one damn hammer-fist right before a double-reverse crescent kick (Kenpo term for spinning jumping circular kicks that hit with the sides of the feet; no idea what other schools call them) whose targeting is a mystery to me. It's a groin shot, clearly, as any good hammer-fist that isn't to the base of the skull should be, but I'm firing it behind me after doing a bunch of moves to someone in front of me, then turning, and either there's a new attacker there and all I'm doing is cock-punching him, or I'm mistargeting, or I'm overfocusing on realism and missing the fact that Tiger and Crane is several thousand years old and has many parts that aren't intended to be practical defense.
Black Belt Set: The first (and only, so far, for me) two-person kata. No issues from what I can tell. This one needs to be tested with a live opponent, though. As it is, I kinda know that I'm facing the right direction and standing in about the right space, but my targeting is likely fairly different from what it'd be on a live opponent.
Stance Set: A very simple kata that isn't formally taught at any belt level, but which everyone picks up before black. The only issue here is that I left it for last and my legs were tired.
Tomorrow, assuming that life works in my favor, I hit second-degree techniques, which I'm not worried about, and spear set, which I am worried about. I can always find a few minutes to practice my empty-hand stuff. I can almost always find time to practice katas or techniques that use a pair of small weapons. But big stuff like the staff or spear? Yeah, that goes fast.
The Good: I haven't stalled on anything. I've got some holes here and there -- places where I'm not sure whether I should step forward or step back, places where a strike could be a chop or a hammer-fist -- but nothing that leaves me with "Yeah, I have no idea here." Also, coming back to some of the katas after a long away period has actually helped. Instead of doing them as I'd muscle-memorized them long ago (at the level I learned them, with incremental improvements layered over old remembered motion), I'm doing them at an out-of-shape but still there fifth-degree black level, and so, even tentative and slow, some of the katas look better than they ever have.
(Also, I'm being hard on myself. I'm doing my belts from memory, which means I'm doing somewhere between 20-30 techniques, one or two katas, and a variable number of strike combinations and specialized kicks. The "chop or hammer-fist" problem is a problem, but not a killer -- at my level, I'm actually expected to change techniques to improve them or utilize skills that would be considered too advanced for the level at which the technique was originally taught. That said, if I ever want to teach, I need to know the technique in its original form.)
The Bad: Wow, my kicks are lousy. Also, I need to get my wind back. I no longer have asthma as an excuse.
(Again, possibly being hard on myself, as I'm doing this in shoes, outside, on snow and ice. Still.)
The Ugly: Seriously, the Dude walked directly into the axe-handle I was using for Staff Set. I was being so good about not hitting him, and then he just walks right into me. What the hell?
Things to Query On:
Orange: Escape of the Lamb (first strike, chop, hammer?)
Purple: Cocking the Bow (feels like it should step back, but I need to make sure)
Purple: Charging Bull (E) (Chop, break, hammer-and-knee, hammer?)
Blue: Kata Long 2 (Rhythm of cat-stance-punch combo feels off. I'm doing step-block-punch, punch, shift-to-cat-punch, snap-kick-punch.)
Green: Siamese Cat (That chop feels like the lamest thing ever. I think I always thought that, but now I think I'm doing it wrong.)
We'll see.
The tentative resolution is to get my sixth-degree belt by the end of next year, but if fatherhood kills that, I'm not going to beat myself up. Getting stuff fresh again will be enough.
In fact, I understand them perfectly well. I just don't agree with them.
I've known several of them, serial brown belts. We talk martial arts, and they talk about having some huge number of years of experience, more than I've got, and then, when I mention that I've pretty much just done kenpo, they give me the smug smile and talk about how their greater breadth of experience gives them avenues of exploration that I, guy who only does kenpo, will never have. Or, if they're feeling generous, they imply that we're equal.
At which point Patrick bites his tongue out of politeness.
Because, well, and I say this with trepidation... no.
If you have one year of experience in fifteen different martial arts, that doesn't make you the equal of someone with fifteen years of experience in one martial art. At all. The first year of martial arts -- hell, the first four or five years -- are about establishing a common set of kinetic vocabulary, the ability for a teacher to say, "step right with a windshield wiper parry, left foot steps, move into a square horse while doing a double-knuckle slam into the spine, grab the collar, back-knuckle to the base of the skull, double-eye hook with the right, then eye rake with the left while sweeping with the left leg," and have the student more or less know what the teacher is talking about.
I'm not saying this as an unlettered purist. I've been to other schools. I've gone through classes. Shock and surprise, their inward block is a lot like my inward block. It's not identical, and yeah, there IS something to be gained by learning both, but not at the cost of learning all the advanced stuff that one learns by staying WITH one particular style for awhile.
One of the big secrets that's only really a secret because there aren't enough intelligent high-ranking people from different styles talking shop is that, from what I've seen, most striking martial arts start to look kind of the same when you get to a high-enough level. I can still tell who's doing kung fu and who's doing karate, but they're nowhere near as different in appearance as two students with one year of experience would be. That's because the students are just learning the vocabulary. The lower belts are a road, and they all lead to, if not the same place, similar places in the same overall area. The only difference is how you get there. Some schools start hard and grow soft at higher belt ranks. (Kenpo is like this. We start out blocking and punching like crazy, and then, come the black belts, you're doing all this parrying that you didn't realize was slowly taking over.) Some schools start soft and grow hard at higher ranks.
(And while all the arts start to look similar at the high levels, the individual practitioners start to look different as they find what works best for them within the kinetic vocabulary of the style in which they're training.)
If you want to be a Renaissance man, do one martial art well and then paint or something. Don't be a really advanced multi-school martial arts novice. The coolest moves lie in the high belts. Really! Give them a chance!
Here's what I'm NOT saying:
- Anyone who switches schools/styles is lame: There are all kinds of reasons to switch schools. Sometimes it's unavoidable. Sometimes you need to find a school or style that's better for you. Sometimes you move to another city, state, or country.
- Anyone who has taken several different styles is lame: Incorporating several styles is a great way to round out whatever you take. Rather than go from one to the other, though, try sticking with one style that you really like while taking seminars or short classes (or, heck, long classes if you've got the time) in something that complements your main style. Learning a little capoeira or jujitsu is great if you primarily practice karate.
- Serial brown belts have no real ability: I'm sure that some people have picked up some neat tricks. I'm sure that there are some cool crossovers. As I said above, cross-training IS cool. That's WHY it's cool. I'm not arguing that you shouldn't do it. But if you're looking for a solid foundation, don't be a serial brown belt.
I'm a fifth-degree black belt, which, depending on your school, will either make you shrug indifferently or make you think that my school obviously uses inflated belt standards because clearly, without any knowledge of my training regime, you can objectively prove that someone of my age doesn't deserve that belt.
(This is why I love talking to journeyman martial artists. They have all the self-righteous judgment without the critical faculties to, you know, actually see whether the person they're preaching blithely to might possibly know more than they do.)
I was the youngest person at my school to reach black belt, and my teachers drilled me on it. (The record has since been broken twice. In both cases, I was really happy for the guys who supplanted me, after the requisite ten seconds of jealousy.) I got my belt young because at the time I was blessed with a really good memory, a decent athletic background, a strong work ethic, a friend who was doing it with me, and a whole lot of spare time unimpeded by a girlfriend or much other extracurricular activity. At my school, the teachers said that you could get your belt in five years if you busted your butt, trained hard, and didn’t stall out at green or brown belt. Most people do. Almost all teenagers do. I didn't. This isn't a point of huge massive pride on my part -- well, getting there is, but getting there fast isn't. Like I said, I had a natural aptitude and a whole lot of positive factors working to keep me doing it. If I'd had a girlfriend and more interest in soccer, I would never have hit brown, much less black.
All of which avails me not as I sit there near the end of "Tiger and Crane." I've just done the second pair of cool acrobatic crescent kicks (about the only cool acrobatic crescent kicks IN Kenpo, which is generally pretty pragmatic), and I come down from the second kick in a hidden step -- which looks like a runner's stance, knees bent low, except that my left leg, the one in front, has the foot pointed straight over to the left. I've just done a hammerfist to the groin of the imaginary ninja in front of me, likely the cousin of the ignorant fool ninjas I just killed with my crescent kicks.
And now...
Something.
I know that I end up doing these little cat-stance deals where I'm blocking up and doing half-fist punches to the guy's throat, and then I do... something... maybe the shotgun parry, and then step into a bow with the artistic double-claws.
I try doing it again and again.
I try doing some other katas, then coming back to it.
I try letting it go for a couple of days.
Poop.
I try surfing the web. I come to KenpoUSA, which has katas with the same names as those from my school. I get to the important part of Tiger and Crane, which they have instructions for!
"Do a double outward block, double backfists. Step up 90 degrees with the right to a horse, right inward block. Right dancer behind the left, turn to a horse, U punch to the left. Pivot to the right to a hidden foot, the arms circle overhead to chamber on the right hip. Left upward block, right inverted punch to the jaw. Step through left straight ahead to another hidden foot, the arms circle overhead to chamber on the left hip. Right upward block, left uppercut punch to the jaw. Step through right to a hidden foot, the arms circle overhead to chamber on the right hip. Left upward block, right uppercut to the jaw."
I have no idea what these people are talking about.
I understand JUST enough to know that it's the right part. Instead of half-fists, they do uppercuts with the upward block -- or maybe they do the same move but CALL it a half-fist. I don't know. "Right dancer behind the left" pretty clearly means "Hidden step, right foot back." The U-punch could be this rarely used deal where you are essentially turning the "Y" from "YMCA" into an attack by leaning to one side as you do it. I don't remember that being there, but maybe that's what I've forgotten. Or maybe they do it differently. Crap.
So close to not having to call my instructors back in California and ask them what move to do in a kata I learned seven or eight or ten years ago.
I really need to just suck it up and call them.
I have all kinds of excuses -- I had shingles back in October, which appeared to wipe out my entire immune system (or perhaps the shingles was the first sign that my immune system had been wiped out by fatigue and sleep-debt brought on by stress and a baby), and I've been stumbling from one damn illness to the next ever since -- pinkeye, nasty colds that wipe me out, all more often and more intense than usual. In May, I had asthma to the point of radically diminished lung capacity before I figured out that I had asthma. And so on. All these great reasons that it's not really my fault.
(And good reasons, too. A job I'm loving. A son I'm loving. I'm not doing as much writing as I'd be doing otherwise, either, but it's not all poor-Patrick-sad-life.)
But still, there are times when I miss the high-school kid with a good work ethic and way too much spare time.
And a few friends at the school that he could call to surreptitiously ask about the end of "Tiger and Crane" if need be.
