My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
This morning I lifted some weights and then sparred a little with an old friend of mine, and that brought to mind some of our more amusing attempts at martial arts of years past. Eight or nine years ago, a work friend of hers said he had a buddy who studied Kuk Sool Won, which is a particularly weapons-heavy Korean style (the guy who played Darth Maul studies it.) He'd offered to teach them a bit of swordwork, and were we interested?
I am not sure Jo really was, but I definitely was, and she is nothing if not a good sport. So we ordered cheap katanas off the internet and trooped out one Sunday afternoon to a dead-end street somewhere in Bastrop, where we could swing live steel at each other without anyone calling the cops.
We did this a few Saturdays without incident, learning the basics - how to hold the sword, basic safety and etiquette, and the first dozen or so moves in a sword kata. Afterwards, we'd go to lunch and listen to our ex-Navy teacher's bar brawl stories, of which he had many.
We'd been doing this for several weeks when I managed to get my first sword-related scar. It's probably the most pathetic scar on my body. I was finishing up the sword kata when I mimed the sheathing motion and managed to nick the cuticle of my thumb. Just clumsiness, that was all - I barely felt it.
Except it bled pretty good. And it kept bleeding. It bled until we left for lunch, it bled in the car on the way to lunch, and it bled all through lunch. I soaked through three paper towels trying to eat without dripping gore all over my food. The cut was a quarter of an inch long, and it bled for an hour and a half before it finally stopped.
I still have the scar. I can show it to you, if you run into me some day. It's tiny, but it's mighty.
The only thing I regret about Sun Dragon is that it currently has no wildly profane ex-military instructors. Some may see this as an advantage, I suppose. Help us reach out to more people by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Four
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
Last weekend I was in New York at Honbu, the home school for our particular style of karate. Our head instructor was testing for her next black belt rank, and several of us decided that it was a great excuse for a vacation. We did take some classes while we were there, though, on the logic that it was easier to get used to the formality (and the accents - at Sun Dragon we get Japanese spoken by Texans who learned it from a French-Canadian, which is... not the same) when we weren't trying to take a high-stress belt test.
Saturday morning we took a kata class. (For those of you who haven't watched The Karate Kid III recently, kata are choreographed series of movements performed solo - like a dance, but with more punching.) Other than having to do OMG TOO MANY pushups, it went just fine - until the very end. All the students of my rank and above were instructed to perform Sanchin - a kata that I had fumbled through maybe twice, and don't really know at all. I'm not completely hopeless, though, so I figured I could just follow along. It wasn't something I was expected to have down cold or anything.
On my right was the other Sun Dragon student of my rank. She didn't know it any better than me, so she was no help. So at first I tried to watch the green belt ahead and to my left. She was a rank above me - she should know it reasonably well. But after the third time she did something, made a face, and switched her hand position, I looked to the green belt ahead of me instead.
I hadn't been watching him through most of the class, because the green belts were always doing a different kata than the one we'd been assigned. (Trying to figure out how to dodge three students throwing punches and kicks in different directions, plus a support pillar and the door to the girls' locker room, was its own challenge.) But he looked perfectly confident, so I tried to follow along as we went through a sequence of slow, deliberate blocks and punches.
I was concentrating so hard on not screwing up that it took me three or four moves to figure out why I couldn't seem to sync up with him. The guy only had one arm.
I spent the rest of the kata just making sure my feet were in the right position and thanking whatever provident spirits had stuck me in the back corner of the dojo where the instructor couldn't see me flailing.
That guy does better pushups with one arm that I can with two, and on my knees. One of the neat things about our style is that it is consciously intended to be usable by everyone, not just high-testosterone 18-year-old boys. Help us reach out to more people by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Last weekend I was in New York at Honbu, the home school for our particular style of karate. Our head instructor was testing for her next black belt rank, and several of us decided that it was a great excuse for a vacation. We did take some classes while we were there, though, on the logic that it was easier to get used to the formality (and the accents - at Sun Dragon we get Japanese spoken by Texans who learned it from a French-Canadian, which is... not the same) when we weren't trying to take a high-stress belt test.
Saturday morning we took a kata class. (For those of you who haven't watched The Karate Kid III recently, kata are choreographed series of movements performed solo - like a dance, but with more punching.) Other than having to do OMG TOO MANY pushups, it went just fine - until the very end. All the students of my rank and above were instructed to perform Sanchin - a kata that I had fumbled through maybe twice, and don't really know at all. I'm not completely hopeless, though, so I figured I could just follow along. It wasn't something I was expected to have down cold or anything.
On my right was the other Sun Dragon student of my rank. She didn't know it any better than me, so she was no help. So at first I tried to watch the green belt ahead and to my left. She was a rank above me - she should know it reasonably well. But after the third time she did something, made a face, and switched her hand position, I looked to the green belt ahead of me instead.
I hadn't been watching him through most of the class, because the green belts were always doing a different kata than the one we'd been assigned. (Trying to figure out how to dodge three students throwing punches and kicks in different directions, plus a support pillar and the door to the girls' locker room, was its own challenge.) But he looked perfectly confident, so I tried to follow along as we went through a sequence of slow, deliberate blocks and punches.
I was concentrating so hard on not screwing up that it took me three or four moves to figure out why I couldn't seem to sync up with him. The guy only had one arm.
I spent the rest of the kata just making sure my feet were in the right position and thanking whatever provident spirits had stuck me in the back corner of the dojo where the instructor couldn't see me flailing.
That guy does better pushups with one arm that I can with two, and on my knees. One of the neat things about our style is that it is consciously intended to be usable by everyone, not just high-testosterone 18-year-old boys. Help us reach out to more people by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Housekeeping - Kickathon Donations
If you'd like to make a cash or check donation, please give a valid email address at least so we can be sure you're real. We've had either a rash of very generous anonymous people and we'll be very happy when the mailman arrives in a week or so, or someone's just fooling around, which is sorta weird. We'll be keeping all anonymous cash or check donations out of the system so it doesn't skew our progress charts - until the checks arrive, of course!
You can mail checks to the following address:
Sun Dragon Martial Arts
4534 West Gate Blvd; Suite 101
Austin, TX 78745
If you'd like to make sure I get credit, you're welcome to include a note to that effect, but either way, it's fine!
You can mail checks to the following address:
Sun Dragon Martial Arts
4534 West Gate Blvd; Suite 101
Austin, TX 78745
If you'd like to make sure I get credit, you're welcome to include a note to that effect, but either way, it's fine!
My Life and Karate, Day Three
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
This is only related to karate and/or self defense in that we do learn break-falls - I actually picked up the skill (at least for certain angles) playing volleyball. But it's one of my very favorite stories to tell, so... stop me if you've heard this one before.
It was a Friday or Saturday night, and I got out of the bar at 2:15ish. I had quit drinking at midnight (which I always do if I'm driving,) so I felt just fine. I walked down Sixth Street on the sidewalk until I hit one of the seething crowds in front of the pizza shops, then I angled to step into the street.
This isn't a complicated maneuver. But there was a big piece of plywood on the ground, and with my supernatural coordination, I managed to catch my toe on it. You know that bit in Spider-Man where Biff takes a punch at the newly-irradiated Peter and everything slows waaaay down? I get that every time I'm about to bust my ass. I looked down, realized there was no way I was going to get my leg back out in front before I pitched headfirst off the curb, and my last thought was "Oh, shit!" before my volleyball reflexes took over.
I stuck out an arm as I hit the ground, tucked my knees, rolled over my shoulder, and flipped to my feet in one graceful motion. I was almost feeling proud of myself when I glanced back to my right. Three sorority girls were sitting on the curb, pizza slices in hand, gaping at me. I feebly protested that I wasn't actually drunk. I don't think they believed me.
We haven't specifically covered pitching-headfirst-into-the-street-and-emerging-unscathed-but-for-slight-scrapes yet, but I am assured it comes up later in the curriculum. Help us teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
This is only related to karate and/or self defense in that we do learn break-falls - I actually picked up the skill (at least for certain angles) playing volleyball. But it's one of my very favorite stories to tell, so... stop me if you've heard this one before.
It was a Friday or Saturday night, and I got out of the bar at 2:15ish. I had quit drinking at midnight (which I always do if I'm driving,) so I felt just fine. I walked down Sixth Street on the sidewalk until I hit one of the seething crowds in front of the pizza shops, then I angled to step into the street.
This isn't a complicated maneuver. But there was a big piece of plywood on the ground, and with my supernatural coordination, I managed to catch my toe on it. You know that bit in Spider-Man where Biff takes a punch at the newly-irradiated Peter and everything slows waaaay down? I get that every time I'm about to bust my ass. I looked down, realized there was no way I was going to get my leg back out in front before I pitched headfirst off the curb, and my last thought was "Oh, shit!" before my volleyball reflexes took over.
I stuck out an arm as I hit the ground, tucked my knees, rolled over my shoulder, and flipped to my feet in one graceful motion. I was almost feeling proud of myself when I glanced back to my right. Three sorority girls were sitting on the curb, pizza slices in hand, gaping at me. I feebly protested that I wasn't actually drunk. I don't think they believed me.
We haven't specifically covered pitching-headfirst-into-the-street-and-emerging-unscathed-but-for-slight-scrapes yet, but I am assured it comes up later in the curriculum. Help us teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Two
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
My high school had a self-defense instructor come in for a few days my junior year. She was a tiny lady in her sixties, and when we were all herded into the gym no one was quite certain how seriously to take her. It was still gym class, after all.
I was standing at the front of the reluctant semicircle around her, so she picked me to do a demonstration. I stood about ten feet from her, and she told me to walk up to her and try to get really close. That seemed easy enough.
I started to walk forward and she dropped her eyes and cringed. It was the weirdest feeling - I started to smirk and felt ten feet tall. I came within about 8 inches of her and did my best to loom over her - which wasn't hard, since she was 5'1", tops - and she said "Ok, now go back and do it again."
I was feeling pretty cocky. When I started walking forward this time, she took a step forward and roared at me. I don't know what she said - probably something along the lines of "Stay away!" I was too busy levitating backwards to pay much attention.
I'm not sure how much it helped the rest of the class, but it was quite a revelation for me. We're really not that far from our animal roots - basic dominance behavior is pretty hardwired. That feeling of superiority I got when she flinched and dropped her eyes was purely instinctive - I knew it was just an exercise, and I'm really not much of an alpha dog anyway, but that didn't change my physical and emotional reaction at all.
I paid very close attention to the rest of her lecture about body language and voice. I've been in a lot of fairly sketchy situations since, and I have had quite a few occasions to remember to keep my shoulders back and my eyes up. I'm more inclined to snarl than yell, but I can if I have to, and I know exactly how effective it really is.
I firmly believe that everyone should grow up to be a little old lady who can knock people down by shouting at them. Or a little old man - you know, whichever. Help Sun Dragon teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
My high school had a self-defense instructor come in for a few days my junior year. She was a tiny lady in her sixties, and when we were all herded into the gym no one was quite certain how seriously to take her. It was still gym class, after all.
I was standing at the front of the reluctant semicircle around her, so she picked me to do a demonstration. I stood about ten feet from her, and she told me to walk up to her and try to get really close. That seemed easy enough.
I started to walk forward and she dropped her eyes and cringed. It was the weirdest feeling - I started to smirk and felt ten feet tall. I came within about 8 inches of her and did my best to loom over her - which wasn't hard, since she was 5'1", tops - and she said "Ok, now go back and do it again."
I was feeling pretty cocky. When I started walking forward this time, she took a step forward and roared at me. I don't know what she said - probably something along the lines of "Stay away!" I was too busy levitating backwards to pay much attention.
I'm not sure how much it helped the rest of the class, but it was quite a revelation for me. We're really not that far from our animal roots - basic dominance behavior is pretty hardwired. That feeling of superiority I got when she flinched and dropped her eyes was purely instinctive - I knew it was just an exercise, and I'm really not much of an alpha dog anyway, but that didn't change my physical and emotional reaction at all.
I paid very close attention to the rest of her lecture about body language and voice. I've been in a lot of fairly sketchy situations since, and I have had quite a few occasions to remember to keep my shoulders back and my eyes up. I'm more inclined to snarl than yell, but I can if I have to, and I know exactly how effective it really is.
I firmly believe that everyone should grow up to be a little old lady who can knock people down by shouting at them. Or a little old man - you know, whichever. Help Sun Dragon teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day One
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
My first memory of karate in real life was in fourth or fifth grade, on the playground. A very sweet if dorky boy named Ben (I have long since forgotten his last name) was attempting to win my favor by bragging about his karate skills. His account of a couple years of classes at the Y failed to impress me - I had hit a growth spurt and probably had three inches and thirty pounds on him, and I knew it.
He waved his arms around in a way that was, I suppose, intended to be menacing. I did not feel menaced. He came at me. I picked up a four-foot-long fallen tree branch the width of my thigh. He stopped.
Apparently his training, which obviously didn't impart the wisdom of not showing off in the schoolyard, also didn't cover how to cope with an armed attacker. I felt sorta bad for him - he was obviously trying to flirt in that fourth-grade-boy sort of way - but the fellow was barking up a tree in the wrong forest altogether.
Many years later, I found a school that teaches practical self defense as well as fancy hand-waving. Hopefully poor Ben eventually found a girl to swoon over him.
Everyone should know what to do when confronted with clueless ten-year-olds or smart-alecks holding chunks of wood. Help us teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
My first memory of karate in real life was in fourth or fifth grade, on the playground. A very sweet if dorky boy named Ben (I have long since forgotten his last name) was attempting to win my favor by bragging about his karate skills. His account of a couple years of classes at the Y failed to impress me - I had hit a growth spurt and probably had three inches and thirty pounds on him, and I knew it.
He waved his arms around in a way that was, I suppose, intended to be menacing. I did not feel menaced. He came at me. I picked up a four-foot-long fallen tree branch the width of my thigh. He stopped.
Apparently his training, which obviously didn't impart the wisdom of not showing off in the schoolyard, also didn't cover how to cope with an armed attacker. I felt sorta bad for him - he was obviously trying to flirt in that fourth-grade-boy sort of way - but the fellow was barking up a tree in the wrong forest altogether.
Many years later, I found a school that teaches practical self defense as well as fancy hand-waving. Hopefully poor Ben eventually found a girl to swoon over him.
Everyone should know what to do when confronted with clueless ten-year-olds or smart-alecks holding chunks of wood. Help us teach people these critical skills by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Training for a 5k
After my last post, I've made some progress towards improving my approach towards fitness. I set the specific, achievable goal of improving my 5k time by the Race for the Cure. My friend Jo volunteered to put together a three-day-a-week training program for me, and that takes care of the regular scheduling and accountability parts. I've done four workouts so far, and plan to keep it up for the full six weeks. My latest 5k time was pretty terrible (about 37:30) so I am confident I'll be able to improve on it.
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