Life lessons from the dojo
Oct. 31st, 2013 11:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The good news is I got to play with the "big kids" last night, i.e. the colored belts. The bad news is that I did a move wrong and seriously twinged my arm and shoulder. Oh, well. That's what you get if you want to improve.
#105: You can go farther than you think
We started last night's class by doing two-person stretches. I really love these types of stretches, because I find you can get a much better stretch if you have an outside force assisting you. Of course, the flip side is that the sensei was wandering around "helping" as well. And you know that when the sensei helps, you get pushed beyond the limits you thought your body had imposed on you. You might have thought you were at full extension -- but no! You could go a little further if you were willing to put up with some discomfort (read: pain) for a few seconds. Yes, you have to be careful that you don't hurt anything, but there's a remarkably large range between "how far I think I can go" and "how far I can actually go without hurting myself." And somehow, I don't think this life lesson applies just to stretches. *grin*
#106: Sometimes your power is all in your mind
We spent most of the class working on a series of techniques called tiodoki no waza, i.e. ways to get out of wrist grabs. While I've done a lot of these techniques before with great success, yesterday I was paired up with someone well-built and much larger than me. Consequently, I was having a lot of trouble with some of the moves that involved, say, pushing him away from me. The sensei came over and by way of assistance suggested that I think of my arm as connected to my stomach, so that when I'm stepping forward, it's my stomach and hips that are pushing, not my arm. When I actually got the hang of it, I could really feel the difference. There's a lot more power when you push from the hips and abs. But I had to focus on the image of my arm being a solid extension of my body so that it didn't move. It's often the same when I do push-ups: I have to consciously focus on contracting my pecs, or else it's my arms that'll do all the pushing, get tired out, and give me a much lower count than I otherwise would be able to do. There's a physiological difference, but it all starts in the mind.
#107: An apparent strength can actually be a weakness
This was a timely lesson, because I just finished reading David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell, which is almost entirely built around the idea that apparent strengths can actually be weaknesses, and vice-versa. In the story of David and Goliath, for example, David did the equivalent of shooting a lumbering elephant with a gun at close range. He would have been decimated if he'd tried fighting hand-to-hand with Goliath, but he subverted the rules of the fight and Goliath didn't stand a chance. (For a more detailed description of how the story has been horribly misunderstood through the ages, you can watch Gladwell's excellent TED talk.)
The reason I bring up David and Goliath is that, as I said, I was paired with someone much larger than me. However, the sensei spent a lot of time helping me and pointing out that just because someone's big does not mean they have the advantage. For one thing, their center of gravity is very high, making it easier to throw them. For another, they are often slower. And for yet another, I have much better access to certain sensitive bits on their body. Meanwhile, I've got all the opposite advantages. And, yes, I've never really been one to consider my size a disadvantage, it's always nice to be shown in close detail how I can use my diminutive stature to my advantage.
#108: Ration your energy
The class ended with some controlled sparring called ran dori. The idea is that you and a partner alternate attacking and blocking for a ten-count. After the whole class had been going for a while, the sensei called up two brown belts to give a demonstration of ran dori at their level, i.e. very fast, with lots of varied movements. He had them go through it five or six times (each time with a ten-count), and by the end of it, they were both very tired. The sensei pointed out that they'd only been fighting for a minute or two -- what if he'd told them to go for a half-hour, hour, or a full night? They'd spent themselves in the first few minutes. The sensei noted that they needed to focus on their breathing, which is obviously important. But I think even more important is just knowing that you might be exerting yourself for a long time. Like I mentioned before about mind games, simply knowing that you'll be fighting for an hour forces you to ration your energy. The mind influences the body and you don't wear yourself out too fast.
#105: You can go farther than you think
We started last night's class by doing two-person stretches. I really love these types of stretches, because I find you can get a much better stretch if you have an outside force assisting you. Of course, the flip side is that the sensei was wandering around "helping" as well. And you know that when the sensei helps, you get pushed beyond the limits you thought your body had imposed on you. You might have thought you were at full extension -- but no! You could go a little further if you were willing to put up with some discomfort (read: pain) for a few seconds. Yes, you have to be careful that you don't hurt anything, but there's a remarkably large range between "how far I think I can go" and "how far I can actually go without hurting myself." And somehow, I don't think this life lesson applies just to stretches. *grin*
#106: Sometimes your power is all in your mind
We spent most of the class working on a series of techniques called tiodoki no waza, i.e. ways to get out of wrist grabs. While I've done a lot of these techniques before with great success, yesterday I was paired up with someone well-built and much larger than me. Consequently, I was having a lot of trouble with some of the moves that involved, say, pushing him away from me. The sensei came over and by way of assistance suggested that I think of my arm as connected to my stomach, so that when I'm stepping forward, it's my stomach and hips that are pushing, not my arm. When I actually got the hang of it, I could really feel the difference. There's a lot more power when you push from the hips and abs. But I had to focus on the image of my arm being a solid extension of my body so that it didn't move. It's often the same when I do push-ups: I have to consciously focus on contracting my pecs, or else it's my arms that'll do all the pushing, get tired out, and give me a much lower count than I otherwise would be able to do. There's a physiological difference, but it all starts in the mind.
#107: An apparent strength can actually be a weakness
This was a timely lesson, because I just finished reading David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell, which is almost entirely built around the idea that apparent strengths can actually be weaknesses, and vice-versa. In the story of David and Goliath, for example, David did the equivalent of shooting a lumbering elephant with a gun at close range. He would have been decimated if he'd tried fighting hand-to-hand with Goliath, but he subverted the rules of the fight and Goliath didn't stand a chance. (For a more detailed description of how the story has been horribly misunderstood through the ages, you can watch Gladwell's excellent TED talk.)
The reason I bring up David and Goliath is that, as I said, I was paired with someone much larger than me. However, the sensei spent a lot of time helping me and pointing out that just because someone's big does not mean they have the advantage. For one thing, their center of gravity is very high, making it easier to throw them. For another, they are often slower. And for yet another, I have much better access to certain sensitive bits on their body. Meanwhile, I've got all the opposite advantages. And, yes, I've never really been one to consider my size a disadvantage, it's always nice to be shown in close detail how I can use my diminutive stature to my advantage.
#108: Ration your energy
The class ended with some controlled sparring called ran dori. The idea is that you and a partner alternate attacking and blocking for a ten-count. After the whole class had been going for a while, the sensei called up two brown belts to give a demonstration of ran dori at their level, i.e. very fast, with lots of varied movements. He had them go through it five or six times (each time with a ten-count), and by the end of it, they were both very tired. The sensei pointed out that they'd only been fighting for a minute or two -- what if he'd told them to go for a half-hour, hour, or a full night? They'd spent themselves in the first few minutes. The sensei noted that they needed to focus on their breathing, which is obviously important. But I think even more important is just knowing that you might be exerting yourself for a long time. Like I mentioned before about mind games, simply knowing that you'll be fighting for an hour forces you to ration your energy. The mind influences the body and you don't wear yourself out too fast.