TEACH OR TRAIN?

 By Phillip Starr

Over the years, I've heard several martial arts instructors remark that they like to “work out” in the classes that they teach and/or that they use the classes as their own workouts. I think this is a very bad idea for two reasons...

First, it cheapens the instruction received by the students. If the teacher is focused on himself and his own workout, he is not able to closely observe what his students are doing. If he had to stop periodically to make corrections here and give encouragement there, or explain a particular principle or concept, his workout would be constantly interrupted. If he really intends to work out, he must be wholly attending to what HE is doing rather than on what the students are doing.

Secondly, if the instructor allows his personal workout to be constantly interrupted, he isn't able to focus completely on what he's doing. It's really not much of a personal workout at all.

Using class as his own training time takes away from the quality of instruction received by the students and also ruins the teacher's workout as well.

I have told teachers (who informed me proudly that they simultaneously utilize class time as their own workout time) that they really must stop doing so. I told them that in class, they should devote themselves to TEACHING and pay attention to the students. Their own workouts must be conducted separately, on their own time. Class time is intended for the students. Period.

THE SECRET

 by Phillip Starr

Tadashi Yamashita (10^th dan, Okinawan Shorin-ryu karate) once said, “The real secret to karate (and hence, all martial arts) is the stance and footwork. But no one wants to practice them anymore.” I agree whole-heartedly. If one's stance is wrong, one cannot generate real power and if one's footwork is flawed, one cannot effectively apply his/her techniques or defend him/her self. Even so, many martial arts practitioners pay little attention to these subjects and fail to train them properly.

The first consideration is stance. What is the primary function of a stance? Simply put, it provides a solid platform for the issuance of power....a “power base”, if you will. If the stance is incorrect in one way or another (too long, too short, too high or low, too wide or too narrow...) the platform is weakened and the power that is issued from it is minimized. This is why the teachers of past generations emphasized the development of a strong, stable stance. One must be able to “root” oneself to the ground. If this isn't done, the returning force of one's own blow can easily result in loss of balance and consequently, loss of striking power.

Newton's third law of thermodynamics tells us that for every force, there's an equal and opposite reaction (force), right? Those of you who managed to remain awake during your high school science class should remember this. So when you strike something (like a bad guy), the INITIAL IMPACT travels from you into your foe and down through his bracing leg and foot (that's usually his rear foot). That is, if I push you, you'll feel the force going into your rearmost foot...

But it doesn't end there. Remember Newton's law? YOUR force will “bounce” back up through your opponent's rear foot/leg and be RETURNED TO YOU, where it will travel down through your driving leg/foot (usually your rear foot). Those of you who've bothered to pick up a copy of my book, MARTIAL MECHANICS, should already know this.

At this point, if you're off-balance or in a weak stance your own blow's returning force can easily cause you to lose your balance (so if you're already off-balance when you deliver the blow, you're in deep poo-poo) and the effect of your technique on your opponent is minimized. A flawed stance will also prevent you from generating maximum power when you execute your technique.

Footwork usually involves moving from one stance (including a fighting stance) to another. I'm not talking about the bouncy-bounce type of thing that is often seen in competition; in my opinion, that sort of thing is near suicidal if you're pitted against a real fighter who has a well-developed sense of timing. Footwork should be light and agile but also balanced and firm. If you can't stop on a dime or change direction almost instantaneously, you need more work. Routines for this are shown in my book, MARTIAL MANEUVERS.

If your footwork and stances are properly refined, then you can become a highly mobile weapons platform. Without these things you're simply easy prey. It's well to remember that gong-fu, karate, and taekwondo were originally created as highly sophisticated forms of hand-to-hand combat rather than sports. Boxing is a sport (although it can be effective in self-defense) and yet, great emphasis is placed on footwork so that the opponent cannot easily strike you and win the match. How much more important is footwork and stance when your life hangs in the balance!

REAL TECHNIQUE

 By Phillip Starr

Many years ago, I was most fortunate in being able to spend some time training under the legendary karate master, Hidetaka Nishiyama. During that time, I was witness to his high skill and I realized the meaning of "real technique."

Master Nishiyama (then about 65 years old) demonstrated a very basic timing exercise. As my friend, Mr. Chris Smaby (who was then a 5th dan and is now an 8th dan), attacked with a punch, Nishiyama sensei would easily slap it away with the palm-heel of one hand a deliver a sharp reverse punch with the other.

The master's punches barely slapped Chris's chest, never even jolting him. They were quick and crisp, perfectly controlled. After perhaps a dozens such exchanges, Nishiyama sensei enjoined us to practice the exercise with a partner.

Later, we headed to the locker room to get dressed and head out to lunch. I noticed Chris's forearms. Every place where the master had slapped his arm (to deflect his thrust), the blood vessels just under the skin had exploded! The skin was not reddened or bruised... but the marks were very clear. Chris quickly removed his jacket and looked at his chest, where Nishiyama sensei had lightly slapped him with his punches. “Oh, my God!”, he said as he examined the spots where the blood vessels had burst just underneath the skin. “Another inch of penetration and my lungs would have exploded!”

This was real karate technique. There was no visible show of brute force; no shouting or grunting or “umph”... just a quick, sharp punch. But each punch had been perfect. His body structure, alignment, everything had been perfect. He exerted no great amount of force. He'd simply executed a quick, crisp movement, But it was a perfect movement. It was then that I truly grasped the essence of a saying in the (internal) martial arts of China:

“Correct boxing is like taking a walk.
Striking an enemy is like snapping your fingers.”

THE REAL KIAI

 by Phillip Starr

Ask almost anyone involved in the Japanese or Okinawan martial arts about the kiai and what it is, and you'll likely get several answers:

1. It's a loud shout.

That's very good, but is that it? I mean, WHY do you shout? Are you scared or what?

2. It's a shout that helps you tighten up your abdominal muscles, thereby making your technique more powerful....

Well, that's a better answer than #1 but it's still incomplete. Simply tightening the abdominals won't necessarily make your technique any stronger but it'll make you look more attractive if you're wearing Spandex.

Actually - and you all should already know this - tightening the abdominal muscles inwards, which is what most people do when they contract these muscles, actually separates upper and lower body strength. This makes your technique weaker.

There are muscle connections that run between the upper and lower body and when you exhale and contract the abdominals inwards, those connections go slack. This means that if you're striking with an upper body technique, your power is restricted to the upper body; you cannot utilize the power of the your lower body.

If you're using a kicking technique, you cannot utilize the power of your upper body. You can only employ the power of your leg and, to some degree, your hips.

Ideally, the abdominals are not powerfully contracted when you execute your technique. By using reverse breathing (which I've written about in earlier articles) the abdominals are tightened somewhat , but without contracting them inwards. This unites the strength of the upper and lower body, allowing you to unify and strike with your whole body.

But you don't have to shout to do it.

3. It's a shout that scares the bejeezus out've your opponent.

That's a good answer, too. A sudden, unexpected, powerful noise shocks the nervous system. This can temporarily "stun" your opponent, leaving him momentarily helpless and unable to defend himself. Simple as this sounds, it actually requires considerable practice.

Most martial arts practitioners tend to kind of "squeak" when they kiai. Some even say an actual word. I've actually been in schools where students were taught to say the word "ki-ai!" when they kiai...!! Pretty weird.

Not only that, but many martial arts enthusiasts shout with their throats. After two or three shouts, they can hardly speak. This is an indication that their technique is wrong. The true shout comes from the lower belly and is a guttural sound. If it's done properly you should be able to deliver an explosive shout and then continue talking without any problems or discomfort.

But that's not the right answer, either.

You may have noticed that I've not been using the Chinese term for shouting, qi-he (pronounced "chee-huh"). There's a reason for that. Calm your toot.

The correct answer is that the true kiai doesn't necessarily have anything to do with making a noise. The word kiai means roughly, "spirit meeting." This doesn't mean that you're about to begin a seance or play with a ouija board...it infers that the kiai is a moment when the body, mind, and spirit are brought together, fused together for a single instant. This fusion allows you to fully focus your entire being on the task at hand.

The Chinese phrase, qi-he, means roughly "energy/spirit shout" and this seems (to me) to be more concerned with the exterior function of the kiai...the shout itself. Those of you who have gone to the trouble of purchasing my book, “MARTIAL MANEUVERS”, will recall a chapter which is devoted to the technique of shouting.

But enough of that.

The Japanese phrasing is, I think, a better translation of what the true kiai should be. It's much more than just mere physical technique, much more than just shouting.

There is a story about a young American karateka (karate practitioner) and his sensei (teacher) that really drives the point home. The student was practicing a particular kata (form) and when he had completed the set, his teacher informed him that he had forgotten the kiai.

The student was confused; this kata had no kiai in it. He reminded his sensei of this fact but his teacher was having none of it. The true kiai, his teacher explained, doesn't necessarily involve noise. It is a merging of the entire being - body, mind, and spirit - for a split second during the execution of an ending technique (when one theoretically destroys the enemy). It is more of a spiritual/mental thing than a physical thing. It's more than simply shouting and making a loud noise. It is a fusion and focusing of one's being on the task at hand (destroying the opponent).

This fusion is felt more than it is heard and a good teacher can quickly determine if it has been applied to a particular technique. In this student's case, it hadn't.

All forms contain the kiai but only a few forms require you to make a noise when you do it.

PREVENTATIVE SELF-DEFENSE

 by Phillip Starr

Effective self-defense, per se, actually (should) occurs BEFORE there is a need for violent action or reaction. This is the best form of self-defense; violence is avoided and you can save two lives...the (potential) opponent's, and yours.

Quite some time ago, the FBI interviewed a large number of prison inmates who had been involved in mugging and similar crimes. They asked these predators how they selected their victims and almost all of them said they preferred victims who weren't very aware of their surroundings and those who seemed distracted. Situational awareness is the key to preventative self-defense; avoiding an attack before it occurs.

• For instance, when you walk up to your car in the parking lot, do you glance into the back seat BEFORE you get in? It's a good habit to develop.

• When you are walking through the mall, the parking lot, or anywhere else, do you have your iphone plastered to your nose? Many people do; they walk around while looking at their phones and they're totally unaware of what's happening around them.

• When you're walking down the block (especially at night) do you walk right next to the buildings or do you keep some space between you and the various stores and shops? When you come to a corner, do you walk out a little wide so that you can see around it more easily or do you stick close to the building and make yourself an easy target? Master Jigaro Kano (founder of judo) was known to walk out a little wide when approaching corners so that he could see if anyone was waiting for an unsuspecting victim.

  

Here are some other ideas that the inmates provided:

• A thug prefers easy prey. They don't want to deal with someone who'll fight back. If nothing else, it makes a lot of noise and fuss and attracts attention. They don't want a lot of witnesses or anyone calling the police, and they can't afford to get involved in a time-consuming affair. The longer they have to deal with their prey, the higher the odds of being seen or outright caught in the act. They want a mark that can be handled quickly and easily, with a minimum of ruckus. People who seemed distracted or who appeared to have no idea where they were going were to be seen as easy marks.

• Women who were digging through their purses – especially in parking lots – were distracted and regarded as easy prey.

• Women wearing fairly high heels could be overwhelmed easily because their footwear prevented them from running or putting up much of a fight.

  

And as a final note, remember that there's no shame in running away from a violent confrontation unless you are obligated to protect your family or other loved ones. It's the most effective self-defense technique.

PERFORM OR PRACTICE?

 By Phillip Starr

Do you perform or practice your forms? There's a considerable difference. If you PRACTICE your form you will study it, taste it, pay attention to its rhythms, spirit, and the types of power that are issued. And that's not all of it; there's the breakdown, the “bunkai” that teaches you so many things. You strive to polish every aspect of it, including those that aren't readily noticeable to an observer. The object is to learn from it; to perfect it and in doing so, to strive for self-perfection. You endeavor to carry on the tradition and the lineage from which it is derived. This is real martial art.

To PERFORM your form is to do it so that LOOKS outwardly impressive. Your primary interest is in developing aesthetic appeal, especially in the competition arena. The objective is to look good and take home the trophies, championship cash, or whatever. If one or more movements need to be “adjusted” or changed completely to achieve the desired result, so be it. This is a far, far cry from genuine martial arts.

Unfortunately, more and more wannabe martial artists seek only to PERFORM their form(s) well. It's all about cosmetics. Many of them never consider what they're doing – tossing away many generations of knowledge, development, and tradition. Their forms have no roots, no souls.

THE OWIE FACTOR

 by Phillip Starr

I often tell my students that training in the martial arts is very similar to weightlifting. That is, training should be progressive and regular. You'd think such simple advice would be fairly easy to follow but I am constantly surprised at the number of people who just don't seem to get it.

When you lift weights, you must do it regularly; you dare not do it twice this week, once next week, skip a week, then come back and hit it full-strength again. If you attempt to train in this way, you're guaranteed an injury. Yet, students will miss a week or two (or a month or more) of class, then show up and try to start where they left off. Now, one who has trained for an extended period of time can miss a week or two but even so, it's best to come back slowly so that the body becomes re-accustomed to the intensity of the workout(s).

One of my advanced students whose job now prevents him from training on a regular basis, showed up at class one Sunday afternoon. Within the first 60 seconds of drill over basic techniques, he suffered a serious tear in a hamstring! I'd warned him about jumping right into class but he figured that because he was an advanced student, he'd do just fine.

Not.

Training isn't just about learning various techniques and memorizing a bunch of forms; it involves attaining a certain level of fitness and then maintaining that level of fitness year-round. If you've been out of training for some time, come back slowly. If you jump right back in and injure yourself, you'll be out of training even longer! Train smart before you train hard.