THAT OLD-TIME TRAINING

 by Yang Shuangxing

Many aspiring black belts express a desire for “real, old-time” training. Although most of them really have no idea what this involves, it does show that they (think that they) have a strong will and spirit. Training in the “old days” was considerably different from what we often see nowadays... Most contemporary martial arts practitioners couldn't or wouldn't stand it.

To begin, those who go to the training hall as a kind of social interaction with friends wouldn't last for more than one or two classes. Training in the old days was very rugged; there was no time or even interest in “having fun with friends.” At all.

You would arrive early for class and your uniform would be clean and sharp. There was no playing around...you used the time to get warmed up and maybe review what you'd learned in the last class. In those days, the “training hall” was often in the teacher's garage or basement, or even outside. There was no ventilation and the lighting was often rather poor. We always prayed for good weather...

You learned by rote...by imitating your classmates or the teacher. Detailed instruction was all but non-existant. You might get corrected if you made a very obvious error. Or maybe not. Or your instructor might suddenly swat you with a stick (or his hand or foot) on the offending arm or leg as he bellowed at you. And you would repeat the same fundamental techniques and movements over and over. I recall beginning class with 500 punches and 100 front kicks...and that was just to get warmed up. God help the student who just “lobbed” the punches into the air; they were to be deliberate, focused techniques...crisp and strong! Always.

You learned forms by rote. You did not ask questions. Ever. And God help you if you forgot part of the form you'd been shown in the last class. Form practice was gruelling. It was common to practice a given set for nearly an hour, over and over...until the teacher was satisfied with the group's performance (which was something I never witnessed) or he told the group to stop (probably because he was afraid one or two students might die from the exertion).

You DID NOT sit down to rest or grab a quick drink of water. Ever. If you did, you'd be told never to return and shown to the door. If you felt faint, you gutted it out and tried to keep up. If you fainted, fine. Maybe the teacher would notice your distress and tell you to sit down. But you'd never do so on your own or ask for a rest.

When practicing with a partner, injuries were common and expected. Just as in training for or playing football, injuries are expected and accepted – everyone accepts the fact that they're going to get “scuffed up” a bit – so it was for us. But football is just a game; we were training to survive combat.

Bruises, strawberries, bloody noses, split lips...were all expected and considered normal. If there was free-flowing blood or an obvious broken bone, the teacher would probably have you sit down while he administered first-aid or allowed you to leave to seek medical attention. There were no pads of any kind. Learning to control one's technique was of paramount importance and many hours were spent punching and kicking at a brick wall to develop that unique skill.

Sometimes, I could barely lift my arms after practice and I imagine my parents wondered what I kept bumping into...considering the constant bruises I bore. I'm pretty sure my Father knew, but he never spoke of it; his wayward son certainly needed the discipline!

Practice of standing postures was akin to entering the gates of hell. Our legs and shoulders would burn while sweat streamed down our necks. But nobody dared shift around or even look anywhere but straight ahead.

In time, our bodies (and minds and spirits) became tougher and stronger. And as we gained more confidence and endurance, so our training escalated. But we could bear it more easily. We were getting tougher and we knew it. So, our teacher would find ways to keep us from becoming overly proud; as the old saying goes, “If a nail sticks up, pound it down!” Thus, we learned humility and didn't become arrogant.

Training in those days wasn't easy at all but then, instructors didn't make a living by teaching martial arts. They didn't care if they had many students at all. When instructors began teaching professionally, the training became much gentler and accomodating. In some respects, it has been improved (for instance, more detailed instruction is usually provided nowadays) but in some ways, it has deteriorated.

Now we have better facilities, better equipment, and overall, better instruction (no more learning by imitation). But...students aren't “pushed” physically or mentally anymore, there's no emphasis on “toughening” their bodies and spirits. There's too much importance placed on everyone “having fun” rather than on developing real technique and understanding what they're doing and why. The use of “protective” pads led almost immediately to lack of control; it isn't taught anymore and more injuries are suffered as a result (WITH pads).

Because students are anxious to do it, fresstyle sparring is introduced much too early. I remember that we didn't engage in it for the first year! Instead, we spent a lot of time developing a fine sense of distance and timing as well as technique. These are things that even most contemporary instructors don't understand. As a result, their students don't understand them, either. This is one of the reasons that I began writing books on different aspects of the traditional martial arts.