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<blogEntries>
<blogEntry id="3473">
	<title><![CDATA[Pre-Shodan Periodization Training Notes]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[EVALUATION NOTES - Current Strengths & Weaknesses (from greatest to weakest)

STRENGTHS:
- good form
- smoothness of movement on techniques I know well
- stability at the end of throws (though still need to eliminate "hopping" to maintain balance/need to lower more)
- extension

WEAKNESSES:
- power
- speed
- timing on certain techniques (mostly Ikkyo's beginning and Koshinage's middle part)
- centre sometimes lifting up on upward-movements


FROM PREVIOUS MACROCYCLE (leading up to Ikkyu test seminar)

Competitive Microcycle:  1 WEEK (March 16-20, 2009)
- Rest break from all conditioning
- Continued test-specific training, run-throughs
- Addition of technique visualization

MACROCYCLE:  52 WEEKS (starting March 23, 2009)

MESOCYCLE 1 - TRANSITION PERIOD (post-Ikkyu test seminar): 2 WEEKS, 1-2

- Week 1 (Restorative Microcyle):  Rest break from all but Aikido (with break from specific test technique practice)
- Week 2:  Return to adding Kettlebell training to above; addition of stability/rooting exercises on off-days

MESOCYCLE 2 - BASE MESOCYCLE:  8 WEEKS (April 6 - May 29, 2009), 3-10

Conditioning:  
- Continue Kettlebell training 3x/week and add heavy bag work/striking practice (gradually transition back to heavier weight training regimen during last 3-4 weeks)
- Return to HIIT sprinting on off-days and add sport-specific exercises, some with or without Medicine Ball (ie. Additional variations of squats, stability/rooting exercises, Med Ball irimi /and tenkan drills, "windmill lunges") 

Aikido:  
- Primary focus on Tae Sabaki, timing and Kihon (as well as Atemi and Ukemi while helping junior students prepare for their tests at end of May).

MESOCYCLE 3 - BUILD PHASE MESOCYCLE: 13 WEEKS (June 1 - August 29, 2009), 11-23

Conditioning:
- Continue heavier (gym) weight training regimen 3x/week
- Temporary end to heavy bag work
- Continue HIIT sprinting on off-days and other sport-specific exercises as above
- Addition of LSD (long slow distance) cardio weekly as an "active rest" workout on weekends (ie. bike ride), interspersed with MTB/off-road trail biking

Aikido:
- Gradual return to/addition of more and more test-specific practice alongside the usual training
- Focus on power movements

*MESOCYCLE 4 - 27-28 WEEKS (August 31, 2009 - March ?, 2010), 24-50/51 

Conditioning:
- Temporary end to heavy weight training regimen and return to alternate (Kettlebell) training 3x/week
- Continue HIIT sprinting on off-days and other sport-specific exercises as above (with a tapering off of all but the stability/rooting exercises within the first couple of weeks - addition of plyometric exercises instead, ie. Med Ball side throws, etc.) 
- Continuation of weekly bike rides in the first few weeks as weather permits 

Aikido:
- Primary focus on test preparation in addition to the usual training
- Increase in visualization and test run-throughs during the last two-three weeks or so of this mesocycle
- Continued focus on power with gradual addition of speed to movements

*COMPETITIVE/PEAK PHASE MICROCYCLE:  1 WEEK (March ? - ?, 2010, the week leading up to the seminar/test)
- Rest break from all conditioning
- Continued test-specific training, run-throughs
- Continued increase in technique visualization

*Timespan and details to be adjusted accordingly as a definite date becomes known.]]></body>
	<date>03-27-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2982">
	<title><![CDATA[Updated Strength/Conditioning Program - B]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[(Last Updated:  January, 2009)  - After spending some time researching the martial/real-world strength applications of Kettlebell training I picked up a Kettlebell for myself back in December and have been implementing a new conditioning regimen based upon this.  As I am still a beginner with these, more variety in exercises will be incorporated as I learn them. 

---
Very important note:  any martial arts strength/conditioning regimen should always be IN ADDITION/AS A SUPPLEMENT to (and not a replacement for or at the expense of) regular Aikido technique training at the dojo.  In my case:

AIKIDO TRAINING:  Two hours daily, four times per week 
- Classical Aikido:  Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays
- Adapted Aikido:  Tuesdays

This would be more often if our current training space were available Thursdays and Saturdays like our old dojo was!

DAILY @ THE OFFICE:

- Grip strengthening exercises:  a) Crushing grip strength, b) "Newspaper ball" exercise with paper for recycling

...@ HOME (& OFFICE WHERE POSSIBLE):

- Standing (rooting/stability) exercises

PRIMARY WORKOUT SERIES - B (Fall and Winter)

DAY ONE (Monday):  
Kettlebells Strength Training Set A*, 
4 sets each...
- Two-handed swings
- One-handed clean and press, each arm
- One-handed squats, alternating sides

DAY TWO (Tuesday):  HIIT & CORE
High Intensity Interval Training
- approx. 30mins+ sprinting/jogging intervals for cardio 
(includes warm up, cooldown and stretching)
Core:
- Side Planks (obliques) or Russian Twists (with 10lb weight)
- Plank (regular)
- Quadrants or Bridges

DAY THREE (Wednesday):  
Kettlebells Strength Training Set B*, 
4 sets each...
- One-handed swings
- One-handed kettlebell rows, alternating sides
- One-handed clean and press, each arm

DAY FOUR (Thursday): HIIT & CORE
High Intensity Interval Training
- approx. 30mins+ sprinting/jogging intervals for cardio 
(includes warm up, cooldown and stretching)
Core:
- Side Planks (obliques) or Russian Twists (with 10lb weight)
- Plank (regular)
- Quadrants or Bridges

DAY FIVE (Friday): 
Kettlebells Strength Training Set A*, 
4 sets each...
- Two-handed swings
- One-handed clean and press, each arm
- One-handed squats, alternating sides

*Note that these two Kettlebell Training Sets alternate every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, which means that sometimes Monday may also be Set B, Wednesday: Set A, Friday: Set B as the cycle continues on.

---
ALTERNATE WORKOUT SERIES - A:  to resume in the Spring

Last Updated:  September 17, 2008

[Note:  As of 2008, gym has been renovated to such a degree that Circuit Training is no longer as time efficient as it was before now that free weights and machines are on separate floors; now doing sets consecutively instead of staggered]

Aside from overall conditioning and injury prevention, I'm incorporating more power-building exercises at the advice of my husband, Jon, who --- aside from being a very skilled Aikidoka --- started out as a power lifter in his late teens and early twenties and has accumulated a great degree of knowledge of weight training over the years.  Not surprisingly, I finally decided to reap the benefits of his experience and ask him to help me fine-tune my conditioning program.  Below you'll find the results of not only this but of my own efforts (ie. going up in the weight I've been lifting --- yay!)

DAY ONE (Monday):  LEGS
- Squats/Leg Press (4 x 10)
- Hamstring Curls (4 x 8)
- Calf Raises (4 x 12)

DAY TWO (Tuesday):  HIIT & CORE
High Intensity Interval Training
- approx. 30mins+ sprinting/jogging intervals for cardio 
(includes warm up, cooldown and stretching)
Core:
- Side Planks (obliques) or Russian Twists (with 10lb weight)
- Plank (regular)
- Quadrants or Bridges

DAY THREE (Wednesday): CHEST &  (upper) BACK & ARMS
- Bench/Dumbbell Press (4 x 8 - 10)
- Chest Flyes (3 x 8)
- Lat Pulldowns (4 x 10)
- Seated Rows (4 x 10)
- Tricep Extensions (4 x 8)

DAY FOUR (Thursday): HIIT & CORE
High Intensity Interval Training
- approx. 30mins+ sprinting/jogging intervals for cardio 
(includes warm up, cooldown and stretching)
Core:
- Side Planks (obliques) or Russian Twists (with 10lb weight)
- Plank (regular)
- Quadrants or Bridges

DAY FIVE (Friday): (lower) BACK & SHOULDERS
- Power Cleans (4 x 8 - 10)
- Shoulder Press or Shoulder Flyes/Lateral Raises (4 x 8)
- Barbell or Dumbbell Curls (4 x 8)

DAY SIX (Saturday):  HIIT & CORE
High Intensity Interval Training
- approx. 30mins+ sprinting/jogging intervals for cardio 
(includes warm up, cooldown and stretching)
Core:
- Side Planks (obliques) or Russian Twists (with 10lb weight)
- Plank (regular)
- Quadrants or Bridges

(POST-AIKIDO CLASS:
- Plymetrics and post-stretching on standby until current, non-permanent status of dojo & mats is resolved)
---

REFERENCES:
- Custom strength and conditioning program developed by S. Miller of The University of Winnipeg's Duckworth Athletic Therapy Centre
- "Strength Training Anatomy" by Frederic Delavier 
- "Strength and Power Training for Martial Arts" by Martina Sprague 
- "The Fighter's Body: An Owner's Manual - Your Guide to Diet, Nutrition, Exercise and Excellence in the Martial Arts" by Loren W. Christensen and Wim Demeere
- "The Science of Martial Arts Training" by Charles Staley
- The over 20 years in weight training experience of my husband, Jonathan Hay, former power lifter.]]></body>
	<date>05-15-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3636">
	<title><![CDATA[A Change in Attitude]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[By early September, we had only been going at test-specific training for about a week when I thought I'd finally had it.  I was already sick of it and ready to throw in the towel - Shodan test be damned.  So tired of dogging the test stuff, I just wanted to either get back to regular practice or quit entirely.  

Whether it was: that recovery from months of overtraining was so slow going; that my allergies seemed to be reaching an almost unbearable peak, triggering not only my asthma but cold-like symptoms; that frustrations about my own technique seemed only to pile up higher and higher until I was telling myself I was nowhere near where I needed to be by Shodan, with the deadline looming above me ever closer…whatever the heck it was, I thought for certain that I was through.

But frustration can only go so far in and of itself. It is, by its nature, a catalyst. That is - whether you like it or not - something's gotta give.

I debated (and still am torn on) whether or not to name this post "The Seven-Year Itch".  That I've been practicing Aikido consistently for almost seven years now is more coincidence than anything else. Through the years, I'd given up a great many things in order to train regularly: voluntary and educational opportunities, familial and social events, even the possibility for deeper friendships, when you think about it. Yet I never did so with any form of regret. I'd always known there would have to be some sacrifice in order to attain the level of excellence I desired.

The problem was in examining why I desired it.  Why was I so hung up on perfection that I was kicking myself internally (and not-so internally) every time I thought I did something less than well?  Where was all this pressure coming from? Did I crave mastery in this art so badly that my own attitude was becoming a vortex, a black hole of negativity that was drawing me in to the point where it was sucking all the joy out of my practice?  To the latter: absolutely.

Thankfully, I didn't have to look very far at all find that joy again.  Especially when in the end it isn't really what you're looking at, but how.  What I'd forgotten was how much of a gift it is to be able to practice Aikido to begin with. You'd think that after a decade of working with people with disabilities, I'd have understood that by now.  

Aikido is a thing of beauty when done well.  If you're a perfectionist like me, it's easy to forget how to simply enjoy the movement, the flow, the creativity that lies behind it all.  That you are able to move in those ways, or move at all, is something to be thankful for.  That I can do a graceful high breakfall out of a strong throw then bounce back out of it, ready for more, is something to enjoy while it lasts.  And that's what it all comes down to.  I may not be skilled enough yet to be able to control how well I do a technique each and every time.  But what I can control is my attitude to practice, and through that, I can make training the best it can possibly be for everyone else.  

In other words: giving instead of taking. Which can mean being gracious, patient and accommodating with training partners who want to practice differently or at a different pace than you; giving the best ukemi you can possibly give even when you feel like you don't have much left in you; laughing at your mistakes and smiling on the mats.

For me, this also meant remembering to enjoy the creative process of experimenting, figuring out the more minute details of technique on my own and taking the time to respond to the needs of my training partner more.  Before I knew it, I was actually enjoying practice again.  Then came the realization that I was making progress, even when I didn't feel like it:  I was trying to understand the inner workings of technique independently and was working towards using my centre more in power movements.  Coincidence?  

All things considered, it would probably be more appropriate to call this post "My Aikido Adolescence" - moodiness, self-consciousness, growth spurt, angst and all.  Who knew I'd have to go through that again?]]></body>
	<date>09-22-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3584">
	<title><![CDATA[Summertime Blues]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's that time of year again.  But I don't think it ever got quite this bad back when we had our own permanent dojo space.  Summer really sucks the life out of training, or so it would seem...moreso these days.

OVERTRAINING

It hasn't helped that for a large part of the late spring-early summer I found myself suffering from a number of symptoms of overtraining:  headaches, insomnia, decreased immunity, even a decrease in enthusiasm for training (if that can be believed).  It ended up being a vicious cycle, really, that I'm now certain was caused by lack of sleep and trying to maintain a demanding training regimen without enough recovery time.  But I digress.

Since this post is primarily a rant I will at the very least take the time to say a couple of positive observations about training lately, which is that I've been transitioning more and more from learning technique primarily through seeing towards understanding the principles behind it by learning through feeling.  I know it sounds really wishy-washy and esoteric, but it has to do with feeling the energy of an attack and understanding where it's going (thereby knowing what to do with it).  It's meant that I've been doing a lot more to catch timing and blend - but making a point of moving with an attack earlier on that I originally would have...as a result the connections have been feeling much smoother.  Being Sensei's primary demo uke over the summer while others have been away has meant that in a way I've had no choice but to learn mostly by feel (since the visual aspect is somewhat taken away by the responsibility that comes with having to concentrate on taking ukemi).  

I've also been *drum roll, please* working on power by making a point of engaging my centre more to originate my actions during certain power movements in techniques.  You know what's really helped?  Feeling my way through starting the power movements like I'm having to move a kettlebell.  Surprise, surprise.

Okay, enough boring fun stuff.  On to the complaining.  ;) 

<RANT>

So many people gone for the holidays for fairly lengthy stretches of time have meant that the base group of folks on the mats has dwindled quite a bit.  I know it'll pick up as we approach the fall as people get back into town but I wonder how much they realize what an impact it makes on the energy of the club.

We had to cancel the demonstration portion of our workshop at Ai-Kon this year due to lack of interest/commitment and I can't help but think back about the lack of enthusiasm folks seemed to have regarding the possibility of a Gasshuku in June.  Hardly anyone would have been around for it anyway.  We didn't even have our New Year's Shugyo this year due to lack of people.  It used to be that folks understood that these events were highly significant to the life of the dojo.  Once upon a time, it was generally understood that making sure you could attend was an obligatory part of being a member of the club.  But then, once upon a time it also used to be that if you couldn't commit to attending class at least three times a week, you weren't allowed to be a member in the first place.    

I've wondered about the impact this has made on the club over time.  On the one hand I understand that Sensei has decided that he doesn't want to deter people from learning Aikido due to situations beyond their control that constrict their availability.  On the other hand, I also understand that originally he wanted to ensure that his efforts were well-spent.  You would think that "broadening admissions standards" - as the local university I work for has diplomatically termed it - would have then resulted in there being more students on the mats.  Ironically enough, while there have been more new students (or does it just feel that way?) very few have really stuck it out in the long run or those that do stay attend so infrequently as to make very little impact on the dojo (or their skill in Aikido, for that matter).  In the end, the number of core students has stayed pretty much the same.  The usual suspects.

When it boils down to it, whether they realize it or not, folks do have an impact.  By their very absence, by their sporadic attendance.  After considering the past couple of years in the life of the dojo, I wonder if it gives others the impression that it's okay to take training so lightly.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking to point the finger at folks who seriously have other important commitments that take them away from training.  That can't be helped.  That's just life.  On the one hand, I have a great deal of respect for the person who knows they can't commit much time to the art and at the same time hold no illusions about their skill or lack thereof - they know inherently that in the end, they'll get out of their training what they put into it.  Kudos to them for still trying and sticking it out.

But what gets my goat is that so many folks actually buy into the lies they tell themselves about their training and - ignoring the fact that they train so little - still have a strong sense of entitlement about what little they have done.  You reap what you sow.  If you don't dedicate a lot of time to learning something, is it really a big surprise if you don't progress quickly?  And do you really have a right to correct others who have been training much longer and harder than you have?   

It kind of reminds me of the black belt who proudly says, "I've been training for nine years!"  but in actuality, during a significant portion of that time they trained maybe once or twice a week.  It may sound impressive to strangers but the reality of it is that it makes a big difference to one's skill in the long run.   

COMBATING APATHY

I've often spoken to Sensei about the sense of apathy people seem to have in the dojo with regard to maintaining club solidarity and promoting the art.  (This is where I feel so steamed about having to cancel the Ai-Kon demo.)  Even in a social sense, it feels like pulling teeth trying to suggest that we get together here and there as a group to hang out after class...I guess folks pretty much just want to "do their time" and go.  Yes, the prison sentence metaphor was intentional.  I wish it weren't.  

I know, I know: people have their own lives and have alloted just that two hour block on a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday to Aikido and no more, no less.  Fair enough.  Is it really too much to ask that people care more about their commitment and flex on this once in a while for the sake of the dojo?  

But then to make matters worse, even during the short period of time that they do train, some folks can't focus on putting martial intent behind what they're doing.  I really don't know what more I can do as a senior student without harping on them and sounding nasty.  The most I can do is emulate Sensei and try to be the best example possible; every now and then where appropriate, I try to encourage the newbies to not be afraid of taking chances with their training, especially in the area of ukemi.

Like when I see the soon to be 60-year-old Garry giving it his all taking breakfalls and one of the 20-something guys breathless and wimping out, I can't help but call them on it: "he's putting you youngins to shame!"  Part of me wishes Sempai Jeff and JE were still around to tell folks to "Suck it up!"  :D While the hard-nosed line has never been my personal style, considering how things are going these days, I'm seriously considering making it my own.     

</RANT>]]></body>
	<date>08-06-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3478">
	<title><![CDATA[Ikkyu - A Retrospective]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yes, I've procrastinated on writing this one.  I just wasn't looking forward to doing all the stats tallying, but it's finally done.  Enjoy!

Things learned since Nikkyu...

About movement and the art:

- The power of Kiai and its connection to Kokyu and Hara
- Proper alignment makes technique feel smooth and almost effortless
- Under pressure and with intense focus or "Mushin", the body can act (with seeming independence) to perform technique out of pure instinct due to practice/repetition 
- The importance of visualization

About me:

- I've finally come to see my size more for its potential advantages and am noticing creative ways to adapt more often than I used to
- I get into this "zone" when I test and sometimes even when I'm attacking in Jiyu Waza.  So much so, that I can even forget who I'm supposed to be attacking.  :-D
- I really overthink things, but thankfully this happens more after-the-fact and not in the moments where decisiveness counts
- I have a strong sense of club pride that has been passed down to me from my own Sempai and while I hope to pass some of that on to the junior students, I'm now more conscious than ever of its impact on the energy of practice and the dynamics in the dojo

About...stuff:

- I have had no new joint injuries over the past two years since my last rank and am convinced that this is due to resistance training and conditioning with weights
- The nutritional choices I've made for before and during seminars have had great results as far as energy levels are concerned
- Kettlebell exercises for conditioning have a direct application to Aikido
- Irimi is SO last rank ;-) - seriously though, I'd like to think I haven't been relying so much on this lately - I think it's been due to a state of mind more than anything else


Things I'm consciously working to improve:

- Making visualization a habit
- Power and speed
- Finding a balance between lightness/responsivity and heaviness as uke
- Maintaining proper extension/tension as we up the speed and power of our techniques
- Those darn diverolls


Things I'm looking forward to:

- Becoming considered a "Serious Beginner" next year
- Seeing the results of periodization on my preparation for Shodan
- Finding the dojo a permanent space one day, hopefully soon

---

So what have I learned so far?

Previous retrospectives...

2006 (Nikkyu)

- It's amazing what a few little circles can do.
- Everything I've been reading about conditioning really is true --- muscle memory relies upon repetition, so plenty of practice is the key.
- The more and more I do Aikido, the more and more I love how it feels
- Challenges excite me. More often than not, I find myself thriving rather than stressing out under pressure. Go figure.
- Apparently, I'm "The Irimi Queen"...that has a certain ring to it I kind of like! :-D
- It's been almost four months now since I started that strength and conditioning program and have already seen gains in core strength, wrist flexibility/injury rehabilitation and overall muscle strength. I have no doubt that the former will help add power to my technique and that the latter will greatly help prevent future injury.
- The backwards, heels-over-head breakfall out of what I like to call the "Hail Mary Throw" (because I make the sign of the cross before going over) is hella fun!


2005 (Sankyu)

- The power of prayer. That with faith, one can achieve anything.
- That I have been greatly blessed, both on and off the mat, and that I never want to take it for granted.
- If I believe I can do it, I can.
- "I've learned that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard --- because if it isn't there, then I never really lost it to begin with." --- wise words from Dorothy Gale, "The Wizard of Oz"
- Although having the opportunity to instruct others a little over the past year has been quite valuable (insofar as learning and developing different ways of explaining things), I am far more interested in training. I've heard enough from senior practitioners who have expressed dissatisfaction at their own development, which would often take the backburner to teaching others and certainly don't look forward to this happening to me.
- Some of the most valuable lessons I've been learning have been as Uke --- I've grown more sensitive to how good technique on the part of Nage effects my centre through adequate tension and have been taking pains to replicate it as much as possible.
- Learning technique has evolved for me from what was initially about form towards being more about feel --- my increasing self-dissatisfaction with how things feel as I move has driven me to seek a smoothness, flow and efficiency to what I'm doing. I've joked before (only half-facetiously) that the only real difference lies in that now I can discern exactly how badly I suck. This really isn't as bad as it sounds. I never want to get to the point where I feel that I've "arrived" somehow --- I constantly want to keep growing and pushing myself and my own self-conceived limits towards excellence and self-mastery. Only time will tell as to how successful this will be.

2004 (Yonkyu)

- To listen to my body. That if a technique feels awkward or I feel even slightly off balance, I'm doing something incorrectly and need to make an adjustment.
- To have faith in myself. I can get carried away by feelings of self-doubt, and I keep forgetting that inherently, my body knows how to move (as alluded to above) and what to do if I just listen to it.
- To breathe. I mean, really breathe --- to pay attention to my breathing, which is not only relaxing, but gets me completely centred and focused in the moment.
- That it's not about perfection --- it's about who and where I am right now. And that in itself is pretty darn awesome. I always keep looking back, thinking, "it could have been so much better" --- and really, it always could be. But you know what? It's a long haul, but it *will* only get better. (Thanks Carolynne!)"]

---

Stats/Little Milestones as of 03/21/09 (* - denotes change since last tally at Nikkyu):

Training w/current dojo since - January 8, 2003

PRACTICE:

*Number of classes attended - 1333

*Number of days extra training on the weekend - over a dozen?  (lost count after we started outside practices in Summer 2006)

*Number of seminars attended - 8

Number of other dojos visited while traveling - 6

Number of classes at other dojos as visitor - 6

*Total number of hours training - approx. 2276.5

*Number of journal entries - 244

INJURIES AND other "OOPSES":

Number of hours of remedial massage - 6.5

Number of visits to the physiotherapist - 8

Number of neoprene/Tensor joint braces accumulated - 6

Number of weapons broken - 1

*Number of concussions - 1

*Number of times I've been hit in the eye by a weapon - 2

*Number of scars incurred from weapon injury - 1

Number of times I've been hit on the head by a weapon - 2

Number of fat, bloody lips (received from Sensei's atemi) - 4

Total number of joint sprains/other injuries (ankles, big toe, wrist, thumbs, etc.) - 13

Number of bloody noses - 1.0

Number of huge, freaky bruises accumulated - innumerable; but then I stopped counting and noticing them long ago

Number of times my massive Yonkyo bruises freaked someone out - 2

*Number of times large clumps of hair have been accidentally wrenched out of my ponytail by Nage (ie. stepping on it) - 5

*Number of rolls of athletic tape consumed - 5

*Number of Salonpas patches consumed - 15

*Number of pounds of Epsom Salts used to soak in hot baths - 8

Number of patches sewn and other repairs to dogi - 9

*Number of dogi retired due to becoming worn and ripped beyond repair - 2

PEOPLE:

Number of people I've injured in practice = 0 and plan to keep it that way

Number of people who've caused me chronic/long-term injury during practice = 2  

Number of Kohai gained - I've stopped counting...too many people come and go.

*Number of other females who joined the dojo briefly and left - 7 *sniff* :0(

Number of other females who joined the dojo and have stayed long enough to rank - 1 (Lisa...yup, she's still here, still takes good ukemi, and hopefully will be testing for her Yonkyu in late May)

Largest number of simultaneous Randori attackers successfully faced - 5 

Largest number of people simultaneously diverolled over - 4]]></body>
	<date>04-04-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3474">
	<title><![CDATA[Ah, Ikkyu: that Cruel Mistress]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP

So much for getting lots of sleep before last weekend's seminar.

In between preparing homemade deer jerky for the drive, Thursday night was spent going over Jodori and Tachidori as well as a couple of things that were still rather hazy in my memory.  I was tired, cranky, utterly frustrated with myself and looking back on it I exhibited almost all the signs of overtraining.  I didn't get to bed until 2AM.  During the long drive out on Friday, I did get to sleep in fits and spurts in the car but mostly in between a great deal of visualizing - sitting there with the test and my notes in my lap, running through each technique in my mind and particularly going over in succession (without referring to my notes) all of the sets of technique that I would have to independently determine and call out (ie. the "any 5" sets, Henka Waza, Kaeshi Waza and all the weapons work).

We got into Saskatoon on Friday evening, I carb-loaded with a pasta dinner and after a bit of socializing with our billet host, settled in for the night in their basement with some mats and sleeping bags generously loaned to us and thought nothing of it.  I stayed up a little to do a bit more visualizing and lay down to sleep.  Or so I thought I would.  Now it used to be that as recently as in my twenties I could sleep pretty much anywhere and have a great night's rest.  I could sleep on a floor.  I could sleep curled up in an armchair in a strange position.  It didn't really matter.  I'd sleep like a rock.  Well, let's just say that last Friday night was a rude welcome to my early thirties.  I tossed and turned all night.  No matter what I tried, my bones ached, it was like I could feel the floor.  Finally, I settled into a chair in the corner that reclined a bit and had a footrest.  It made a huge difference, but still being awkward, I spent even more time awake and visualizing technique over and over again in my head (what else was I to do?) until I must have dropped off from sheer exhaustion.  When I got up the next morning, I did a heck of a lotta stretching, let me tell you.

The human body is an incredible machine.  We can put it through hell and yet it still delivers - especially with even just a little bit of care.  And I was making a point to give it the best fuel possible.  Aside from taking a great deal of time to stretch on Saturday morning,our host treated us to a nutritious breakfast and as planned, I took my double-dose of vitamins and supplements along with some Creatine.  I was so hydrated, I was running to the washroom almost every 15 minutes before the seminar started.  All this, coupled with some high-GI carb snacking over the lunch break, gave me good energy levels throughout the day.  I was quite pleased.

MAT-THUMPING

Just before the seminar, people asked me if I was going to be testing.  I just smiled and shrugged.  I had no idea.  At the end of the lunch break, it became clear that they wanted me to test after all and Jeremy said that he would have yelled at me if I didn't.  :-) At this point, I don't think I could have felt nervous if I wanted to - what would've been the point?  As the day progressed and my body slowly tired, I found my mind starting to wander back almost automatically to all the visualization it had spent so much time on recently and I would have to snap myself back into the present, to the learning at hand. 

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

When the practice portion of the seminar ended, Kawahara sensei asked who would be testing.  I took a deep breath and slowly raised my hand.  A white and black sea of yudansha parted so I could sit in the front row.  

"If you are busy, you can go home," said Kawahara sensei, "but if not, change and stay for a very good test." turning to look me in straight in the eye as he spoke the last three words.  
"No pressure or anything," the yudansha behind me chuckled.

I was offered a 15 minute break and by golly, I took it.  I grabbed my things and ran to the washroom to redo the rats nest that my hair had become, eat some energy snacks, take a couple of puffs of my inhaler and have something to drink.  I took a minute for one last look at my notes and a few deep breaths and headed back in.

TESTING, TESTING, 1-2-3?

I filled out my testing form and unlike just before my Yonkyu test, I wasn't so gripped by adrenaline that I was actually able to write my name legibly.  "This is great," I gleefully said to Sensei, Jeremy and Lisa, "I haven't lost fine motor control for a change."

While I was expecting to have students from another dojo taking ukemi for my test, it turned out that Jeremy and Lisa were my primary uke and did a great job.  So much so that after the test, one of the yudansha complimented Jon on his students having really good ukemi.  Of course, it made you wonder if he wasn't so much complimenting them as implying that I had it easy.  On the other hand, I do know that there was initially some concern over the idea of Jeremy being my uke to begin with.  There seemed to be the implication that Jeremy would be too large or too challenging to throw and apparently a female mudansha from another dojo was suggested but Kawahara Sensei said no.  I wonder if he remembered what happened with my uke for my Gokyu test.

It's funny.  I really thought I would have been nervous.  But I don't think my body was going to let me.  Once the test started, everything became a blur, like I was only semi-conscious.  It felt like my mind was on auto-pilot and the rest of me took over - at one point, I got halfway through a technique and I almost stopped dead in my tracks with a jolt because my mind suddenly "woke up" and started to second-guess the choice that my body had made.  Strange, isn't it?  Stupid brain.  Go back to sleep!  Afterwards, Sensei told me that it looked like I wasn't having the same problem that a lot of others do on tests: usually people are so nervous that the tension effects how they perform technique, but I was moving confidently.

All in all, I guess I can't complain.  The only major goofs were:
- "brainfarting" on the shortest version of Tsuki Iriminage, which - comparatively speaking - wasn't too bad since it wasn't a technical mistake so much as a memory one (the versions I did were both legitimate, but not the most basic one that we had practiced ad nauseum and that Kawahara Sensei was looking for)
-  on Morotedori Ikkyo, not understanding what Kawahara Sensei meant by "Tenkan Ura"; as it happens, it's a version that my own Sensei has shown us but: 1) never knew it was called the "Tenkan" version and 2) it was a technique Kawahara Sensei corrected/didn't want to see on a recent Shodan test we've watched so we didn't really focus on it much in practice
- we totally should have spent more time doing Ushiro Ryotedori Koshinage because I completely forgot how this one went
- ditto to Ushiro Ryokatadori Koshinage, which he ended up asking me for in the "Any 5 Koshinage" section but wasn't among any of the ones I had prepared for the test :-(

Thankfully, I tend to look quite optimistically at these sorts of things, preferring to take them positively as areas for improvement and opportunities to further my knowledge.  Though I did give my head a good smack over the Tsuki Iriminage thing.  Yeesh. 

Nonetheless, I got a fair amount of decent comments about my test (ie. that it was a very "clean" test - people liked my movement) and the Jiyu Waza portion especially seemed to impress.  Kawahara Sensei started off by giving me only two attackers (Jeremy initially got three on his test); which I guess could be attributed to the fact that this would have been the first time sensei would see me do Jiyu Waza (whereas he saw Jeremy's Nikyu test).  Well, I guess it became readily apparent during the first few moments that two attackers was going to be too easy so he gave me an Ikkyu from another dojo as well for a second round.  After all was said and done, Kawahara Sensei asked Jon if we practiced a lot of Jiyu Waza in class (which we do - practically every day).  I suppose that it's because of this that I can't really comment too much on my rounds during my test - they felt pretty typical.  There were a couple of moments where I could feel my centre rise higher than it should have - ah, more practice, more practice.

When all was said and done, Kawahara Sensei took some time to clarify what he meant by the Tenkan version of Morotedori Ikkyo to me and Jon; I passed, and he called it a "very good test".

MIND GAMES

It wasn't until later on that I found out that I wasn't the only one Kawahara Sensei was "testing".  Before my test, unbeknownst to me, he told Sensei that at the last Summer camp, a lot of people tested for Ikkyu but not a single one of them passed.  "If Jamie doesn't do well, I'm going to fail her,"  he said to Jon - not once, but twice.

After it was all over, Jon asked me how it felt.  I had to be honest: I was kind of disappointed.  "I'm underwhelmed," I told him, and to repeat a friend's saying, "I would settle for just being whelmed."  After two years of delayed preparation due to the tenuous location situation of our dojo - after all that training and visualization after visualization, I finally got to the point where I felt mentally prepared to do the entire test - all 200 or so techniques of it...and my Ikkyu test ended up lasting only 15 minutes.  No Henka Waza, no Kaeshi Waza, no weapons work at all.  It felt like I had worked so hard - exhausted myself mentally, physically, emotionally to memorize all of that and recall it on demand - and in the end didn't get to demonstrate this to my fullest capacity.

I think about the university students that I work with on a daily basis - students with disabilities; one of the things I often hear about how their disability or chronic illness has affected them is in how much harder they've had to work just to accomplish what everyone else can do (seemingly) so easily.  Yet they take these struggles and move forward, adapting to challenges and seeming barriers like no one else I know - in the end, they don't want "special treatment" - they just want an equal opportunity to show what they know.  I felt the same way about my Ikkyu test.  After all the painstaking adaptations I constantly have to make being a petite woman - after all the "blood, sweat, tears and Aikikai", I just wanted to show what I knew.  And especially after the few gaffes on my test, I was certain at the very least I would be able to move on and redeem myself with the rest.  But the rest never came.

Apparently so many people in the CAF have been wondering why the Ikkyu test is the same test as Shodan that Kawahara Sensei has recently been shortening it on the fly.  I don't quite know how I feel about this.  I don't believe that lowering expectations is ever a good thing.  According to the current CAF test requirements, at Ikkyu you must show that you have the ability to "apply and variate techniques" - that is, to show a wide breadth of technical knowledgeMy, which is exactly what the current Ikkyu test (in its entirety) does.  My understanding was that at Shodan, you would have to not only demonstrate this but do so with more "polish".  But no matter - I have no control over this; as with a great many things in life, it's 10% what happens to you and 90% how you deal with it.  

So all this aside, I'm ever the optimist.  The fact is, even in not getting to demonstrate everything during our Ikkyu tests, because we've actually gone so far as to prepare for everything it has given us a really good base from which to start training for our Shodan tests (which, after each of our Ikkyu tests, Kawahara Sensei said he wants to see us do in a year from now).  Also, that he's given a definite timeline for us to work with helps my periodization planning a great deal.  In conclusion, to mix metaphors: I'll see the cup as "half full" (that is, except for when I'm called upon the "empty" it).  Metaphors be with you...always.  ;-)]]></body>
	<date>03-27-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3468">
	<title><![CDATA[March 20-21st Saskatoon Seminar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[What a long weekend.  Boy, do I feel bagged.  Two seminar days aside, it doesn't help that we got so very little sleep on Thursday and Friday night; we also encountered some really thick fog on the way back home last night that kept me wide awake as Jon's second set of eyes on the road in the dark, so most of the drive was spent warily alert when I could have been sleeping.  :-P  We got back into the city around 1 last night and although I didn't have to work today and slept in, I could still use some shuteye.  I'm surprised we weren't all absolutely kooky during class tonight.

Kawahara Sensei seems to be doing better with his health, from the looks of things - at the very least he was certainly in good spirits.  Although a translator was not present at this particular seminar, I actually found Sensei relatively easier to understand - I think that he made a point of trying to state very clearly (or as clearly as possible) what we should and shouldn't be doing and even went so far as to try to break down techniques into steps, counting in Japanese as he moved through them.  

In a way, I think that in not having as much verbal instruction, one is able to concentrate far more on the visual information they are receiving.  Case in point, I took an American Sign Language (ASL) immersion course some time ago where you could only sign (or even just fingerspell) to communicate - you weren't allowed to talk.  In spite of this, a number of the other students still tried to whisper to each other during the lessons instead of simply doing what the rest of us were doing:  trying to concentrate on what was being demonstrated so that we could learn what was being said for ourselves instead of relying on someone else telling us.  At the seminar, I found that although at times Kawahara Sensei would speak quietly, I think he was using a great deal more body language to demonstrate what he meant to compensate and as a result I thought I could understand a bit more than usual.

We've been hearing Sensei speak more and more of not being rough during seminars yet I'm also glad to see this is nicely balanced by a demonstration of a great deal of the older martial traditions behind some of the movements and techniques we perform.  He spent some time going over some things I hadn't done before, such as alternate versions of Nikyo and Sankyo and some very practical hiji locks, including one that he alluded to as a good police restraint/walkalong.

Another highlight for me came near the end of the second day when he sneakily got us to do ten minutes of bokken kamae.  At one point it became quite amusing to hear him go on about proper form and ramble about the different ways other schools hold the bokken, telling us to relax and giving us feedback on our form and posture while we stood there all the while.  I couldn't help but think that he took no small measure of pleasure in seeing us squirm and took great pains to prolong the experience as much as possible.  :-)  Yet I actually found his storytelling helpful through it all as a contrast to similar posture-holding we've done in our own class (which is usually in silence) – it gave you something to think about and concentrate on instead of the discomfort you were feeling. 

As always, the weekend was a fun and challenging sweatfest (we were actually able to stay for the whole thing instead of just the first day for a change) and it was great to train with such a wide variety of people, fellow mudansha and yudansha alike.  The folks from Saskatoon and Regina are always a lot of fun to be with and it's a shame we in the Peg aren't quite at the place yet where we can return the favour and host our own seminar...one day, I'm sure.

Those of you hoping to hear details about Jeremy's and my Ikkyu tests (yup, we tested!) will have to wait a day or so for the next post – I figured it would be better to post about them separately and avoid an excessively long one. 

Stay tuned...]]></body>
	<date>03-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3463">
	<title><![CDATA[My Pride VS The Dojo Curse]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[To test or not to test, that is the question. 

THE MOCK TEST

Last night, Sensei ran me through my mock Ikkyo test.  The only things we didn't go over were the optional weapons portion (ie. tanto/tachi/jo-dori).

Feedback from Sensei ranged from specific...
- on Yokomenuchi Kaitennage (ura), making this more distinct from omote by cutting uke's arm more away from his centre (I need to remember to grab uke's sleeve to do this well)
- needing to perform Ushiro Ryotedori Koshinage "Ikkyo"-style (arching up uke's arm)

...to general - from big things:
- really needing better extension throughout all Koshinage

...to little things:
- throwing out more (not so much down) on Iriminage
- keeping a wider base before the throw on Shihonage (instead of this nasty habit I've picked up of bringing my feet together just after the last pivot before it)

THE VERDICT

The verdict from Sensei was that it was a competent test that, had I performed it for Kawahara Sensei the same way (even with the few bumpy bits), it would definitely have been a pass.  The thing is, I've never been one to be satisfied with just a pass.

While I was pleased at how much I was actually able to recall (memorizing my lists and doing a lot of visualization beforehand really helped), I still don't feel like the test was as "solid" as I would have liked.  I don't know if I can really help the standard I've set for myself.  Up to this point, every test I've done has been smooth - no "brain farts", no obvious flubs or "do-overs" needed.  If I can help it, I'd like to keep it that way.

THE CURSE

Yet, being given the opportunity to test for Ikkyu itself is a great temptation - especially considering what I've personally called NWA's Dojo Curse.  A part of me (yes, the silly part) is actually somewhat anxious about testing for Ikkyu (and then ultimately Shodan) as soon as possible before...well, before something bad happens to prevent me from doing so.  See, I told you it was silly.  

It's just that the dojo has been in existence for almost 20 years now without having produced a single yudansha (ie. one "grown" from a beginner student).  The fact is, my predecessors (the former senior students) came pretty darn close.  But due to life, bad luck, bad timing or whatever you want to call it, those senior students never got past Nikyu.  Which is where Jeremy and I are right now.  So there's this internal voice that's telling me to jump in, get my Ikkyu and run - before I tear my ACL or need a heart valve replacement or something (*a nod to the previous sempai*).  Or...*whispers* before I get pregnant. :-P

THE DEAL

I talked about it with Sensei last night over that sushi dinner I had been promising myself.  Knowing me like he does and coming from the bitter memory of his own bad Ikkyu and Shodan experiences, he doesn't want me to look back on these tests with regret; not enjoying the memories because of not performing as well as you wanted.  The Sensible Part of me (thankfully, the majority) agrees.  I want a really smooth test, not one that's merely competent.  I'm pretty sure Jeremy feels the same way - we'd like to knock the socks off Kawahara Sensei, gosh darn it!   

Yet there's an irksome, nagging thought in the back of my mind that I can't ignore...now that we're on The Man's radar for Ikkyu (Sensei previously sent word to SK about the possibility of us testing) there's always the slim possibility that this weekend, I may have no choice but to test whether I like it or not.  Maybe I can feign incompetence during the seminar enough for Kawahara to cringe and think to himself, "Ugh!  Not ready for Ikkyu!"  ;-)  No, I'm certain that I could never bring myself to that.  I love the movements of Aikido too much to intentionally make them anything less than they are: things of power and beauty.

Wish me some strength and grace this weekend.  I have a feeling I'm going to need a heck of a lot of it.]]></body>
	<date>03-19-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3457">
	<title><![CDATA[One week to the seminar!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Just a scant four more classes, including tonight, until our impending doom - I mean, test.  How ready am I?  Tough to say.  Sensei seems to think so.  And our dojo has a policy of not letting you test until you are beyond ready.  

We drive out next Friday.

Personally?  Well...I feel like:
- my body is well-conditioned
- I have a great nutritional plan (though the foodie in me is absolutely sick of slow cooker turkey and baked salmon and fully intends to celebrate with sushi after all is said and done) - I start the pre-event Creatine tomorrow and intend to carb-load the night before the seminar
- my asthma is under control (and now very little is left of the nagging cough and chest congestion from that cold from weeks ago)  
- my post-workout recovery could be better but I'm also planning on increasing my sleep next week

The only thing that remains is to have confidence.  That, and run through:
- Jodori
- Hanmi-handachi Ushiro-waza (any 5 techniques)
- 5 Kokyunage (any attacks)

What I really want to do is run through the whole darn thing from start to bitter end to get a feel for the thing, well, as a whole.  That would make me feel much better - at least in better knowing the gaps in my memory.

Of course, whether Jeremy and I even test all depends on The Man.  Kawahara Shihan will watch us like a hawk during the seminar and determine from what he sees if he wants us to test for Ikkyu there.  In other words, I will have to be prepared to practice technique at the seminar as though that itself IS the test.  

I will say that it's tough not to be more than a little nervous about it.  I can't help but sense the impact we'll have on the reputation of the club, for better or for worse.  Especially since the last time someone from the dojo ran a test of this magnitude by Kawahara Sensei.  He pretty well promised then and there that his expectations would be far higher in future.  I really hope we meet them.  Well, no.  That's not quite right.  What I really want is to exceed them.]]></body>
	<date>03-13-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3439">
	<title><![CDATA[Sports Periodization and Ikkyu Prep Update]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I may have mentioned it in the past, but after some research, I've been dabbling in applying sports periodization theory to both preparing for Ikkyu and eventually for Shodan.  We just found out that the Saskatoon Spring Seminar is scheduled for the weekend of March 21st and that in mind, I'm now able to revisit my strategies and be more specific about the latter phases leading up to the test.

Macrocycle #1 (Ikkyu Preparation) Summary

Preparatory Phase:
38 weeks, November 2007 to September 2008 (4 weeks off in Summer)
- regular training, both general and specific
- primarily resistance training (no HIIT yet) 

Base Phase:
19 weeks, September 2008 to February 13, 2009
- regular training, some general: increased focus on specific test techniques
- resistance training with addition of HIIT

Build Phase:
4 weeks, now until March 13, 2009
- increase intensity (sole focus on specific training; a return to my alternate, heavier-load resistance training regimen; additional HIIT; addition of plyometrics)
- more frequent test run-throughs from start to finish
- videotaping of test run-throughs for evaluation
- meal/nutritional planning focus on high GI foods
 
Peak Phase:
1 week, March 13th to 20th, 2009
- restoration/taper down period pre-seminar
- return to kettlebell conditioning regimen and less HIIT
- continue specific training and test run-throughs
- continued nutritional focus on high GI foods]]></body>
	<date>02-15-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3426">
	<title><![CDATA[Students of White Oak and Hickory]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I never thought I'd be saying this, but...I really miss weapons practice.  In the old dojo, we had the opportunity to do this twice a week (one day for bokken, one day for jo).  I suppose it's one of those instances where "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone".  Though I'd always enjoyed the feel of both sword and staff movements, there was a great part of me that I eventually found grudgingly practicing the sword --- the staff was so much more versatile, after all and the movements could readily be adapted towards a real-world improvised weapon.  And you know I'm all about the real-world scenarios. :) 

Yet over the past year or so that we've been at the new venue, we've practiced with weapons less and less.  Initially we only had access to the upstairs gym (with high ceilings) once a week so we alternated back and forth between bokken and jo practice.  Now that we no longer have access to the upstairs and are exclusively downstairs where the ceiling is fairly low, we haven't been doing weapons work at all for the past few months.

As a result, I'm seeing a difference in the group of newbies that has come through the dojo lately.  I'm now convinced that within the group of new students who have done little to no weapons practice, we're "raising a generation" of Aikidoka who:

- don't know how to kiai (and thus find it more difficult to generate power through their kokyu/breath --- you're forced to do this all the time in weapons striking and I'm certain that it is meant to get you into the habit of generating power and a stronger root via breath)

- don't know how to extend against strong resistance (vital when working with weapons and has its immediate applications in empty hand entry-movements as well as in ukemi --- many of the new folks, even after a fair amount of time now, far too easily collapse their arms when rolling)
 
- are less proficient at judging ma-ai/distance in their sabaki/body placement (this is something you almost immediately learn when working with weapons as all of your exchanges are in a sense, interactions between two "measuring sticks" with which to gauge proper distance)

Naturally, all of this has me concerned and I've discussed these observations with Sensei - unfortunately there is little we can do about the situation until we get into a permanent space where we have high enough ceilings to do weapons work again.  And of course, getting into a new space is greatly dependent upon the number of students we have practicing consistently --- though the dojo has grown somewhat recently, only time will tell if the new people will stick to it.  In the meantime, it's "More Tae Sabaki!  More Tae Sabaki!" and a healthy dose of atemi/empty-hand striking practice for us all and I think that for the time being, this should help with some of these issues.]]></body>
	<date>01-29-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3413">
	<title><![CDATA[Conditioning for Aikido: Kettlebells!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I just updated my Strength/Conditioning post to reflect that after some research, I started incorporating Kettlebell exercises into my regimen back in December and thought it might be helpful to elaborate on this decision a bit.  One of the "selling features" of Kettlebells has always been the claim that more than traditional weight exercises (ie. using machines), Kettlebell exercises offer "real world" increases in strength by engaging your whole body and working groups of muscles instead of isolating muscles like some machines do.  It is because of this that many personal trainers have advocated the use of Kettlebells in the conditioning regimens of martial artists.  So what have I found?

Not only have I been finding workouts with Kettlebells more convenient given the demands of my workplace this time of year (I do my Kettlebell workouts at home first thing in the morning before heading off to work) but almost immediately, I have found the exercises translating into improvements in my performance of Aikido technique.  I believe that because many Kettlebell exercises rely upon engaging your whole body from your core on up (and only then, secondarily through the arms), I'm finding more and more that habitually using my center to initiate movement against this kind of resistance in my conditioning regimen, I am in turn doing this more and more in Aikido as well.  

Within just a couple of weeks of starting these exercises, I started feeling a greater connection with my center during "power movements" within certain techniques.  For example, I've always struggled with the entry to Kotegaeshi, during and just after the tenkan where you bring uke's wrist in front of your centre before performing the wrist lock itself.  Due to having had some Aiki-related wrist injuries in the past, I find my grip will fail at times when faced with heavy resistance.  Recently there was a particular class, however, in which Sensei asked us to spend some time focusing specifically on this sabaki where I started feeling very distinctly like I was initiating my centre to power uke around me.

Both uke and Sensei noticed a difference right away and it was at this point that I realized that I was subconsciously treating uke's arm like a Kettlebell!  It was extremely gratifying.

In addition to this, I've been finding that:
- the movements behind certain Kettlebell exercises such as the "Clean and Press" very closely mimic the basis behind Aikido movements (in this case, such as the entry to some Morotedori techniques where, to lift uke's arm you must first initiate your core before pushing upwards with your arm)
- because they tend to engage your whole body, Kettlebell exercises get your cardio going much earlier than weight training exercises that isolate muscles/muscle groups (where the rest of your body is sedentary)
- all things considered, these exercises are a heck of a lot of fun!]]></body>
	<date>01-10-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3412">
	<title><![CDATA[A Shameless Plug :-D]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Just because I had so much fun putting these together as a (belated) Christmas gift for my fellow dojo mates, I can't help but share them here on AikiWeb as well.

"That's Why We Practice": Aikido Bloopers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BrylhtH3tjE

"Mat-thumping!": Ukemi Video
http://www.veoh.com/videos/v17165363ak7j9naH

*chuckles*

Not to worry, I'll be posting another serious entry again soon.]]></body>
	<date>01-10-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3382">
	<title><![CDATA[Moving Beyond Kihon]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Takumusu Aiki:&#12288;&#27494;&#29987;&#21512;&#27671;  - A "slogan" of the founder's meaning "infinitely generative martial art of aiki." Thus, a synonym for aikido. The scope of aikido is not limited only to the standard, named techniques one studies regularly in practice. Rather, these standard techniques serve as repositories of more fundamental principles (kihon). Once one has internalized the kihon, it is possible to generate a virtually infinite variety of new aikido techniques in accordance with novel conditions.  (Definition is courtesy of AikiWeb's wonderfully comprehensive Wiki :-)

---

I like to think that --- thanks to muscle memory and a great deal of persistence --- much of the fundamental principles of any art become internalized over time via the dogged repetition of action and technique.  As with many things, it certainly sounds simple enough.  When asked by Sensei at the end of class if they had any questions, my past sempai years ago would often say, "More practice, Sensei!"  It became a kind of mantra (along with "This ain't knitting class" and "Suck it up").

How true it is.  Yet when asked by Sensei at the end of class, "Any questions?" my own oft-repeated response now as a senior student myself is usually, "Always, Sensei."  No matter how much you practice, they're always there.

While we all know that most people learn by doing and there is more value to be gained on the mats from action rather than words (ie. "Less chatter, more splatter" as another senior student once said) I'm coming to appreciate the concept of (I suppose what I would call) "thoughtful training" more and more.

Don't get me wrong --- by no means am I advocating a kind of newbie-style of practice where you stand perfectly still with your arm out for two minutes while you figure out and decide where and how to move.  Nothing like that.

I suppose that I'm realizing more often than not that when I practice a particular movement or technique, the level of its success is usually directly proportional to the amount of focused thought I give it.  Now, this doesn't mean to say I spend much more than a split second preparing or deciding what to do and how to it.  Hardly.  *laughs* If only there were enough time to dwell on such things.  It just means that I will often tell myself (and in turn, my body) to specifically focus on a certain thing.

Naturally, my focus will alter according to whatever it happens to be that we are training with a particular exercise.  If we are working on flow and blending with energy, I tell my body to relax and stay loose.  If we are working on the entry to Ikkyo, I tell my body to extend.  If we are working on off-balancing our opponent with a direct shove into them, I tell my body to root and become a steamroller.  :D 

Well, the whole point of me bringing this up in relation to "Takemusu Aiki" is that over time, I have noticed that I have had to consciously tell my body to do certain things and focus on particular aspects less and less as time goes by and as we eventually come to practice techniques and exercises more and more.  I've found that it's in retrospect now, upon seeing newbies struggle with certain fundamentals that I find myself thinking, "Now how would I explain what I do to accomplish that?" 

The fact is, in the midst of practice, I'm rarely thinking consciously about the fundamentals anymore.  It's not like I don't need to implement them --- for ideally, I am practicing them all the time (heck, if I didn't, boy would I get flak from Sensei).  I just find that my mental focus has shifted towards the minute, the even more extreme details of how I might alter what I am doing [I]as I'm doing it[/I].  This will just as often be applied to how I perform aspects of the fundamentals as well --- only the basic principles behind them are no longer the conscious effort that they once were.

I greatly suspect that one thing that is helping is the idea of continuing to train in one's daily life even when you're off the mats, even in the most mundane situations:  practicing how to root and stay aligned while walking or waiting in line/standing around; practicing certain footwork while pacing back and forth or turning around.  I've definitely felt a positive difference in my posture and how I move. 

In spite of this, however, are there many questions?  Always.  ;)]]></body>
	<date>11-15-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3344">
	<title><![CDATA[On Teaching My First Class]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[How odd it feels to be writing this post.  The title seems so surreal to me.  I've been doing Aikido for almost seven years ago now, began keeping this blog in 2003 and after revisiting the old posts, realize just how quickly the time has gone by.  I've spent so much time ruminating and critically picking apart my own study of this art that over the years it has rarely occurred to me to view myself in anything BUT a student's role.  Yet for the very first time last night, I found myself as the teacher.  Such a strange and foreign feeling.  

I never [I]really[/I] wanted to be the teacher, after all.  Seeing how my own Sensei had become an instructor out of compulsion and necessity, hearing how he'd often regret not being able to practice as he would have liked --- when push came to shove, this honestly rather put me off the whole teaching thing for the most part.  I figured that I would just get in the way of my training.  I wanted to be a student forever --- to continually siphon off the knowledge and instruction of others and let someone else bother with how everyone else was learning.  I'd told as much to Sensei.  He'd occasionally "test" me and the other sempai out, letting us each have a taste of teaching by demonstrating a particular technique to the rest of the class.  Unsure of myself and my own ability, fearful lest I portray a confidence not yet earned, I would qualify everything I said: "Well, as you know, Sensei would do this or say that, etc." and look over my shoulder constantly to gauge Sensei's expression --- all as if to check to make sure that I wasn't missing anything.

Last night, however, this all changed.  Sensei had to work late and the other senior student who would normally lead the class was out of town.  So guess who was left to run adapted Aikido night?  Little old me.  And Sensei said I could teach whatever I wanted, so we discussed some possibilities.  The funny thing was, I already kind of knew what needed to be taught.  I'd attended enough classes and watched the other students progress enough to be able to discern areas that needed more practice.  Funny how that happens.  All along, I thought I was just paying attention to me --- my progress, my technique, my Aikido, my struggles.  Without even being really conscious about it, I'd been observing everyone else as well.  Who knew?  It made sense, though.  We're a team, after all.

I knew that we needed to work more on weapons stuff.  Since we started practicing at the new venue, the space limited the amount of time we could spend on Bokken and Jo.  Many of the new students had little exposure to running through the kata enough times to memorize it and work on proper striking technique.  Last night would have been Jo night.  I wanted to run through all that, but wouldn't have been able to make it home and back in time to pick up the dojo's weapons bag.  The logistics of taking over the class at the last minute prevented it.  Jo would have to wait.

So with Garry as my demo uke, I ran the class (it was just him, me, Jarrett and Lisa) through a series of adapted exchanges we do that start with some fluid, evasive Tae Sabaki (a great way to stay loose and relaxed and maintain continuity after the warmup) and continually build upon this different strategies of movement and atemi --- working your way up to training striking extension, aim, spotting openings and picking proper targets; all the way to the point where you're throwing a combination of at least three continuous strikes as a counterattack and then an exchange where your attacker blocks and you have to adapt to it and counterattack anyway.  After 10 minutes or so (I worked in with them, of course) into the start of each series I watched them all work together and after considering a few things I thought might help (especially in the areas of atemi and better body placement) I brought them back to the group and demonstrated additional strategies to practice within the same exercise.

It's interesting, because I found that if I made a point of drawing one certain aspect to their attention and asked them specifically to practice it for a few minutes, by the time we moved on to adding the next "layer" in another exchange, they were more apt to use the principles they practiced before once the parameters for practice became more open.  It pleased me to see this because it actually (even for a short time) broke some people out of old habits that weren't serving them too well and seemed to open them up to different possibilities for counterattacks.  I guess it just goes to show that we're creatures of habit and that taking a building-block approach to learning can have its advantages.  At the very least, the more one practices such things, the more they are increasing their muscle memory of those movements.

At the end of class, I had them put it all together against two attackers simultaneously and added on some hints about how to help create more openings when you're feeling stuck or cramped.  And then finally, because we hadn't done so for some time now, I got everyone to work on speed drills to help improve reaction time (just deflecting fast attacks without bothering to counter) and then got them to add on leg attacks as well to get more practice with this particular kind of "split"/soft focus.  I always find that kind of practice quite challenging as it feels like a division of mind in a way.  And I do love speed drills --- pushing myself to see exactly how fast I can deflect.  Sometimes it surprises me how well I can keep up.

But in the end, what surprised me most of all was myself as a teacher.  That I might be able to impart this particular knowledge in a confident and consistent, structured way kind of blind-sided me.  After all this time, I guess I'd absorbed and paid attention enough to be able to articulate what I'd learned in a capacity I had not experienced before.  I'd thought I had internalized so much that there was no way I could externalize it without all of it being lost in translation.  

In the past I vowed to myself that if I were to assume a teaching role in Aikido, I would never qualify things again --- Sensei had advised as much; that lack of confidence in myself would erode the confidence others would have in my teaching --- he found that out the hard way.  At first I believed that teaching without qualifying my knowledge would imply an ego --- that I had "arrived", that I knew it all.  Who was I to say I knew anything, anyway?  But I was wrong.  

You need confidence to teach.  And the concepts of teaching and your own search for knowledge are not mutually-exclusive.  Here I was, waiting around for that magical moment when I would feel like I had reached this apex of learning and skill in which, finally, I had somehow [I]earned[/I] the right to teach.  The fact is, I never will.  Nor will anyone else.  Not only is it a continuous process, but (*laughs*) I doubt I will ever reach the lofty standards that I set for myself.  They are dreams, goals, aspirations.  They exist to continually push me forward so that I might become more than I am.  

So I continue to learn, to study, to absorb.  But in the meantime, I cannot ignore the fact that I HAVE actually learned some things.  That time has started to fill my cup, drop by drop.  And I have learned just enough to be able to share knowledge with others in turn.  So long as there are others who wish to learn.]]></body>
	<date>09-18-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3342">
	<title><![CDATA[The Heat is On]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Without a doubt, training for 1st kyu has been the most frustrating, challenging experience of my Aikido life thus far.  

It used to be that I was simply pissed off at certain techniques.  Those of you who have followed this blog from its tadpole-ish beginnings (before I even turned 5th kyu) will remember well.  Koshinage was once the bane of my existence.  Then came along Aiki Otoshi.  In essence, anything that involved me having to heft and --- for more than a nanosecond --- support the weight of anyone more than my size (which is pretty much everyone) was...let's just say: not pleasant.

But bygones are bygones.  Now I have a new nemesis.  There is a huge elephant in the room.  His name is Ikkyu and he wears a brown belt.  Where to begin?

We can start with the fact that when all is said and done --- counting numerous variations of: standing techniques, kneeling techniques, knife-taking techniques, sword-taking techniques, staff-taking techniques, combination/adapted techniques and reversal techniques --- Jeremy and I will have to know and perform well over 200 different SANITY-TAKING techniques.  The object is "to be able to apply and variate techniques" after all.  And at the very end of it:  Jiyu Waza, multiple attackers.  But then, to me, that's the fun part.  :D 

Not surprisingly, this is the very same test that we will have to perform later for Shodan/black belt.  With two vital differences.  For Shodan, it will all have to be "shinier" --- more polished, smooth and powerful  than before.  And for the punchline...Shodan will more than likely be a much shorter test.  That is, they won't ask you to perform everything.  Rarely does this happen for Shodan, I am told.  For Ikkyu, however, they usually ask for E-VER-Y-THING.

So we're in for the long haul.  One that will probably last for oh, well over an hour or so.  But I digress.

How does one even begin to prepare for something of this magnitude, you might well ask?  Uh, badly...at least to start off with.  :freaky: It all began with the best of intentions, I can tell you.  Jeremy and I were running through blocks of techniques and our approach seemed to be going smoothly.  The only problem was...us.  Perfectionists, to be more specific.  Damn perfectionists; that's what we are.  To our own detriment sometimes, I'm afraid.

So can you guess what happened?    We'd work on a technique.  Being the introspective, detail-oriented and anal-retentive students that we are, we would break down each technique to as many of its finer points as we could.  Each step of the way, self-analyzing and correcting (or attempting to correct) every nuance that felt even the slightest bit off.  In our never-ending search to uncover the very best technique we could possibly perform, even Sensei got carried away --- watching us study the subtler points, he reciprocated by offering even more fine-tuning suggestions for correction until...we were embroiled in a seemingly-unending study of just one version of one technique that would last all class.

Suffice it to say, it eventually started feeling like we were getting nowhere.  At the end of class I felt like I was left with a dishearteningly ever-increasing list of techniques that I needed to perfect, each with its own fast-growing list of finer details that I had yet to learn to observe in practice and make second-nature to my movement.  It felt like 200+ techniques was a longer and longer way away.

It wasn't until just recently, after a discussion with Sensei in which I articulated these observations, that we decided to try a different training approach entirely.  Ikkyu, after all, is primarily about showing how many variations of techniques you have memorized and that you have the ability to call upon them on demand.  The fundamental principles of good form and technique are already strongly embedded in our movement, Sensei feels; most of the fine-tuning can wait until after Ikkyu in preparation for Shodan when it's more appropriate.  All along, we had been approaching training for Ikkyu the way we would training for Shodan and it has simply not been necessary.  

So last week, after discussing things in turn with Jeremy, he and I started running through the test in blocks of related techniques and their variations.  We began with Koshinage: 5 techniques, for example.  Slam, bang!  Rinse and repeat.  It was the highest-energy Ikkyu training session we'd had in a very long time.  Naturally, it being Koshinage (high breakfalling required all the time), we came out of it the next day quite sore.  But it was a satisfying feeling --- to be able to run through a set of techniques without criticism, from self or otherwise; even just to have your body go through the motions, memorizing how they feel and what you do did wonders for one's confidence.  I personally came out of it feeling quite accomplished.  Like if we kept things up at this pace, we would tame this Ikkyu beast soon enough.]]></body>
	<date>09-16-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3334">
	<title><![CDATA[30th Anniversary Saskatoon Seminar (09/05-06)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Five of us (Sensei, Jim, Lisa, Anders & I) recently went to Saskatoon to participate in their 30th anniversary seminar this past weekend and came back happy to have made the trip (cramped legs and sore backs from the long drive notwithstanding).  Due to it being a rather "special" seminar, not only did Kawahara sensei instruct, but so did the founding instructor of the dojo, Makoto Otsu.  I suppose my only regret (as usual) would be in only being able to train during the Saturday instead of all weekend; mainly due to the long drive that would take up most of Sunday.

I really appreciated how Kawahara sensei focused greatly on Kaeshi Waza (reversals) during his portion of the class.  Considering how reversals (along with Henka Waza: variations/combinations) form a part of our upcoming Ikkyu test, it was nice to see how Kawahara sensei in particular does them.  I'm sure Jeremy would also have really appreciated seeing this as well.  I did feel rather sorry, however, for some of the "greener" Mudansha (white belts) who I trained with that obviously had little to no experience with these techniques and were struggling --- sensitive to the etiquette regarding "shadow teaching", I was allowed to assist very little and felt badly about leaving them in the dark and tried to drop discreet hints here and there wherever I could in the hopes they'd figure things out on their own.  

Another unique thing to note was seeing Kawahara sensei demonstrate a sacrifice throw as a variant of a particular technique --- not something we see him do very often.

It was likewise interesting to see another shihan-level practitioner's technique in watching Otsu sensei teach.  He spent much of his portion of the day focusing on five principles that he felt greatly influence the success of one's technique:
- sugiashi (shuffle) forward and backward properly to draw the opponent
- tenkan (turn) properly; sometimes our turns are not complete/are less than they need to be to move the opponent
- use both hands in shihonage (not just one) - it's more powerful
- always keep (or remember to return) hands in centreline during technique as it effects balance and power
- uke needs to attack properly/realistically
Of course, add to all this that we got to see this 70-year-old take ukemi (in this case, do a forward roll) --- quite impressive; I think we're all hoping to be that spry when we get to that age! 

One thing that was especially nice about this particular seminar (incidental as it is) was that no one from our dojo had to test at it, so no huge pressure --- I can tell you that it can be rather nerve-wracking to go through a whole day of practice (at the end of which, you're pretty tired) only to have to test at the end of it.  I really felt for the gentleman from Saskatoon who had to do a Sandan test that day --- I can't say as I blame him for spending the time that he did doing exercises to stay loose and limber (and most likely shake off the nerves) before it.  I'd definitely do the same.

In the evening, the host dojo held a banquet on the same floor as the practice space (a tasty roast beef dinner) and not only did Anders get to wow those in attendance with some very cool walkaround magic but we got to see a slideshow of pictures from the past 30 years which included a much younger, thinner Kawahara sensei and our own Sensei, Jon, when he was in his twenties and was not only massive from powerlifting, but sported a poufy, wavy haircut and cheesy goatee --- ah, the 90's!  :D 

Sheesh, I use the word "interesting" a lot.  I should substitute it for "awesome" or "sugoi!"  So that was a bit of a boring post.  Mostly because the coolest stuff I discovered at the seminar is pretty much top secret and if I told you, I'd have to kill you. :eek:  And Aikidoka just don't do that.  So I won't.  

I promise though that the next one will be much better since I'll soon be going on about the agonies of perfectionism and Jeremy's and my uphill battle to get to Ikkyu.  Stay tuned.]]></body>
	<date>09-09-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3316">
	<title><![CDATA[The Aiki of Sewing (!)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As further evidence that:
a) I over-think things
b) I really was an English major once
c) I have Aikido on the brain the vast majority of the time (which explains the lack of space in there for much else) :D 
d) I should give up on all these silly metaphors and parallels I always seem to observe the more I train in the art 
or 
e) all of the above,

...I wanted to share something amusing I discovered while sewing some gifts today.  I'm not sure how many other of you Aikidoka have used a sewing machine before, but chances are if you have, you already know that it can be a rather finicky process --- not unlike a certain other process we all know and love.  (Okay --- or make that "love-hate", depending on what progress you're making with your training or even on what technique you happen to be working on.)  :straightf 

Now those who know me well understand that I am nowhere near being a technological pariah (I love electronic gadgets, the mechanics of things and working with my hands in these respects) and that I strive to be extremely detail-oriented.  Or anal, depending on who you talk to. ;)  That said, these characteristics are ones that you would think would practically guarantee me success in my sewing endeavours.  Not so, I'm afraid.  After all, what really does?

First of all, some quick context for those who might not be familiar with how a sewing machine works...in a nutshell, the machine manipulates two threads that bind your fabric together:  
- the top thread, which is on a larger spool and ends up getting threaded through the needle, and 
- the bottom thread, which is on a much smaller spool called a bobbin installed in the bottom platform of the machine underneath the needle.  
As the needle moves up and down, it inserts the thread into the fabric and pulls up the thread from the bobbin --- which results in a weaving or interlocking of both top and bottom threads back and forth and in turn joins the fabric together.  Uh...ideally.  Sounds simple, doesn't it?

Well, I had been struggling the other evening with a really annoying problem I was having in sewing velcro to these little purses I was making.  The machine would work fine for maybe the first few seconds and then completely jam up --- the needle wouldn't move up and down and the fabric seemed stuck; when I tried to take the item off the work surface, I barely could --- the bottom thread looked like dozens of tangled threads tightly matted to the fabric (nothing at all like the single, clean line of stitching that it should have been).  After fighting with the machine for some time --- which involved having to: 
- wrench the fabric from it 
- cut off the matted threads
- open up the bobbin casing and clean out the tangled threads underneath and 
- start sewing all over again 
(only to find after just a few seconds the very same problem) and "rinsing and repeating" several aggravating times all with the same non-result, I only just barely decided against throwing my (brand-new) machine out the window in frustration and took a closer look at things.  

As I moved the wheel that controlled the needle slowly up and down with the bobbin casing open, I saw that the top thread would loop itself over a mechanism below and get caught --- undoubtedly the source of the problem.  However, nothing in the manual suggested a solution and I was certain that I had followed all of the directions --- this new machine wasn't so different in its procedures from the old one I had worked on for so many years, after all.  After a long, frustrating night, I left well enough alone.

It wasn't until the day after, when I spoke to my mother-in-law about the problem --- herself having sewn a great deal in the past and being a far more experienced seamstress than I --- that she (bless her dear heart) had a suggestion.  It seems that she too had once experienced a similar problem and told me that the cause of it was that she had threaded the top portion improperly.  Now, I was fairly convinced that I had followed every instruction in the manual on how to do so quite carefully; I had even gone so far as to humour it, as far as I was concerned --- after all, I had been sewing for almost twenty years now and it's not like it's "Rocket Science". 

But at this point, I was desperate to try any fix that might solve the problem --- I loathed the idea of having to send my brand new machine back to the manufacturer to be repaired and the delay it would cause me in my projects.  So there I was this morning, going through each step and each diagram one by one, making sure I did everything exactly right.  And at the outset, it seemed that I did.  Every single step it asked and demonstrated, I had replicated all along.

Except of course, for one little, nagging thing...  

Now, you have to appreciate that very appropriately, the introduction to this particular section in my sewing machine manual states:
"This is a simple operation but it is important to carry out correctly as by not doing so (and this part is underlined) several sewing problems could result."  No kidding.   

You would never have guessed it, but my problem was caused by something that they did not at all mention in the text, nor draw attention to in the least, save for the detail being shown rather inconspicuously in the very last, small diagram.  Whereas with my old machine, before starting to sew you brought the top thread under the presser foot, with this new machine you left it hanging on top of it.  No mention of this, anywhere at all.  They never drew attention to it.  You just had to infer it from the diagram.    

And this was when the light bulb came on.  I couldn't help but laugh out loud.  This was just like learning Aikido.  You may think that you've got the general form of something down pat, but leave out just one simple, seemingly minor detail and things go seriously awry.  

Not only that, but it's just like learning from a Japanese shihan: they never outright tell you everything you need to do, they assume that you will infer it from what you're seeing!  ;)    

Other cute parallels between sewing and Aikido I've noticed:

In both, maintaining proper tension is vitally important.  In sewing, an imbalance in tension between the two threads results in ugly, uneven stitches and a possible break in the seam.  In Aikido, an imbalance in tension between uke and nage results in ugly, bumpy technique and a possible break in connection between attacker and defender.  When the tension between the two is equal and balanced, you get:
- in sewing, a smooth and consistent line
- in Aikido, smooth, flowing and effective technique.

And of course, no matter how experienced you believe you are and how much you think you know, there is always more to be learned from practitioners who have struggled at it longer than you have.  

The moral of the story  :D  is: Aikido is a highly complex art with layers upon layers of dimensions of thought and movement that go into the performance of each technique such that more often than not, the solution to a problem you're having is one that you might consider a seemingly minor or even arbitrary, detail.  The process of solving your problem relies upon painstakingly examining every aspect of what you're doing and how you're moving as well as experimenting and discovering ways of adjusting and adapting by attempting what will often be extremely subtle changes in your movement and your state of mind at different times.

Hope you enjoyed my rather long-winded little tale and that it might give some folks a good chuckle or even some new insights.  It definitely did both for me.

All the best in your training,
Jamie]]></body>
	<date>08-16-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3232">
	<title><![CDATA[The Teacher's Mind and the Student's Mind]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...or should I say: "Sensei-shin" and "Deshi-shin"?  :) 

Sensei will occasionally troubleshoot a fellow-student's technique by asking me to demonstrate it for them on his behalf.  I find this at times a somewhat dubious honour --- dubious only in that I am not yet at the place where I can always explain what it is I am doing correctly in contrast with what the other student is doing differently.  

Case in point:  Yesterday afternoon, Jeremy, Lisa and I were practicing test techniques and during one of Lisa's turns as nage, Sensei told her, "No, that's not right," and asked me to show her how I do it.  I did the technique as best as I knew it and at the end Sensei said, "That's correct, but can you explain to Lisa what was wrong?"  At which point, I could not, so Sensei continued to clarify for us.

It was then that I realized clearly for the first time that I have been and continue to view techniques from a completely "student" perspective.  Never have I, while watching either Lisa, nor any other student, been able to pick up on errors in movement or timing that weren't obvious ones.  Subtle discrepancies in technique are still quite beyond me.  I find myself viewing other students with what I can only describe as a passively observant mind --- one which sees  without, for the most part, a critical judgment towards what they are seeing.  When I view Sensei, Kawahara Shihan or any other Yudansha practitioner performing technique, my mind towards what I see changes into one that consciously absorbs the images for the purposes of emulating.

Contrast this with the teacher's mind:  a Sensei, used to having to correct his or her students' techniques constantly must view technique with a much more critical way of seeing --- they, after having done this for years must have developed a way to discern the nuances at each step of person's movement and timing; tell-tale signs of whether or not a technique is being performed well or not --- seemingly minor details to the outside observer, but those which have drastic implications for the success of a technique.  Jon and I will be watching YouTube videos, for example, of Aikido practitioners and I can guarantee that 99.9% of the time he will be picking up on aspects of their technique that I'd completely missed.    

Amusingly, (at least to me) having a student's mind in and of itself is to me sensory-overload enough as it is right now.  :D  Yet I know that eventually, over time and years (possibly decades) of more practice --- without even being completely aware of it --- my student mind will transition in such a way as to condense what I know now into knowledge that is more easily referenced...perhaps in the blink of an eye, I too will one day be able to discern these subtle differences.  For now I can only taste hints of these things to come in how my practice has evolved more and more away from simple mechanics towards understanding the feel and flow of energy...who knows.  The process continues to intrigue me nonetheless.]]></body>
	<date>06-15-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3176">
	<title><![CDATA[Rootedness on Unstable Ground...in Life]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I like to think that a person's truly defining moments are found in how they handle adversity.  You can either sink or swim.  You can rise to the occasion, face the challenge head-on or concede defeat.  Either way we choose, the process shapes us.  And it's always nice to see in times like this that you're not alone.

For the past eight to nine months our dojo has gone through a huge transition.  The space it has occupied for 15 years was to be demolished, leaving us without a place to practice.  Last Summer was spent holding practices in the park and despite having many merits in and of itself (I found the challenge of fighting not only my own allergies but the inconsistency of environment inherent in simply being outside in various kinds of weather a valuable and eye-opening experience), it just doesn't replace traditional waza on the mats.  As the saying goes, "It's a nice place to visit, I just wouldn't want to live there."  

And boy, did I miss doing ukemi.  Though this feeling changed somewhat --- at least for a short time --- as soon as we did find a temporary space and were able to get new mats.  Forty-two, bea-uuuu-tiful brand-spanking new Zebra tatami-style mats.  Hard.  Tatami.  Mats.  Yowch.  In short order, I realized just how spoiled we were with the cushy foam and fuschia vinyl deal we had at the old dojo.  Really, really spoiled.  But soon enough, we started getting used to them.  They're what you'd call "fast" mats...though this was not necessarily a good thing initially because they were also extremely slippery.  You didn't roll out most of the time so much as slide out, really.  Thankfully, they are becoming less and less slippery over time (we theorize that it's all the sweat and blood that's doing it).  I never found tobu ukemi so bad on them so long as you stayed and thought light.  For me it was, and still is, keeping round in ushiro ukemi.  They're the kind of mats that if you don't stay round, they'll inevitably make you round.  By knocking all your points off, that is.

But enough about the mats.  Beautiful as they are (...sooooo niiiice...*ahem* Anyway!  Where was I now?)  Essentially, what impresses me most about the whole ordeal is how our core group of students and even some others have really stuck through it all and have been extremely helpful and really there for the club when we needed them most --- not only in helping to find a new space, but also in just being there to practice and keep the momentum going.  Although we had a number of relatively-newer members disappear through the course of the move, it's not really surprising in the case of transitions such as this.  Sensei has gone through this before, where members drop off because of a change in location, but just as before the club will build itself up again in time.

Jeremy and I have gradually resumed training again for Ikkyu testing whenever class time permits, and will soon be adding to this a Saturday class in which Sensei would like to take ukemi for each of us in order to help us fine-tune our technique (and get some extra cardio out of it as well).  Sweet deal, huh?  I'm really looking forward to it; the few times we had been able to do this in the past were quite invaluable.  It's amazing what insights and perspective on your movement that you can obtain from a skilled yudansha uke.

I'm sure I may have mentioned it here before, but I don't find myself so preoccupied by the minute technical aspects of practice as much anymore.  Don't get me wrong, I don't think in the least that I've "arrived" or anything, or that I don't think about them at all --- I do, particularly when learning different versions of technique (and I have yet to memorize all the varying entries).  I just notice these days that I am getting a little more conscious of where the energy is going, such as trying to make sure that there aren't any "dead spots"/breaks in the tension throughout my movement.  Whereas before I think I was so concerned with what I was doing with my body, now it's more about how I'm doing it.  So there have definitely been transitions all around.  

Another thing I'm slowly working on is incorporating more power into my movements.  I know, I know.  Sensei has been saying this to me for some time now and I'm sure I've been blogging enough about how I need to do it.  But I think in this particular area I really end up generating "more heat than light".  Whereas Jeremy doesn't seem to be having any trouble working towards power, I find myself really faltering.  See, as strange as it must seem, I'm not really what you would call an aggressive person.  I'm assertive if I need to be, but often feel awkward using force.  Punching is one thing (I used to box quite a bit), but in Aikido technique...sometimes it just doesn't feel right.  I know Sensei says that every brown belt needs to start examining the limits of their power by throwing more powerfully.  You don't learn how much is just enough until you do it.  I guess I'm just scared of doing it in the first place.  In part I wish we had more members in the dojo who I could feel confident about throwing without hurting anyone.  I know Jeremy takes good ukemi and so does Lisa for the most part --- and yet more often than not I find myself not wanting to throw hard unless it gets to the point where Sensei has to say to me directly, "throw harder" or "go faster".  Whatever the case, I need to find a way to balance practice for myself somehow, otherwise I know I'm depriving myself of an important aspect of growth in my technique.  I need to work faster in order to be able to respond to faster, more powerful attacks while still maintaining balance, stability and control through it all.

It's completely different for me when it comes to close-quarters speed work.  I really love having to push myself to concentrate hard and be fully in the moment in order to block fast, consecutive punches like we do during Tuesday night drills.  These evenings are a really good, practical complement to the traditional practice we do the rest of the week.  I guess a lot of what I like is that your responses aren't really structured --- they're free-flowing, creative and adaptive (maybe even a little Takemusu Aiki?)  They really feed off your natural instincts and help you adapt and respond to random, unplanned attacks and energy.  My scarred knuckles don't even mind the punching drills so much anymore.  At the very least, they've become indicators that I'm punching properly.

Gosh, this was random.  I guess this is what comes of not having posted in so long...there's just so much to say, it's like I want to work it all in!  Suffice it to say, I'm still around --- maybe not so much on AikiWeb as I'd like --- but definitely still on the mats; still sweating, still bleeding, still crying, and of course:  still seeking Zanshin.  :p]]></body>
	<date>03-30-2008</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3049">
	<title><![CDATA[For Love of the Dance...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last Saturday marked my fourth public demonstration of randori so far. In some ways, it feels the same and yet quite different: I'm no longer nervous like I was the very first time; I've done the same movements enough times over that it feels like second nature --- at least the sabaki/strategy of it feels like I could do it in my sleep. Yet I've found myself, in retrospect, with a greater awareness of my body: a better sense of when things flow right and when they feel forced. Thankfully, it is a moving chess match --- dynamic, not static --- such that one can adapt one's sabaki on the fly in order to put yourself in a position to better "complete the circle"/blend and flow. Still, I would say that only 25% of the time, it's good flow --- the other 75% of the time it feels contrived. Let me tell you, though, that scant 25% always feels divine, effortless. Truly, it's like you're dancing on air --- as for the other 75%: there's always tomorrow, and the mats will always be there welcoming more practice.  Or so we hope. 

My one saving grace of course is that the audience never seems to notice that which I so very obviously feel in my movement. Sensei asked me afterwards how I feel after hearing so much praise for my performance at the demo. Honestly? I said --- it doesn't matter. They see just a few minutes, a mere snapshot of me --- the seemingly finely-honed end result of what ultimately becomes years of training, innumerable bruises, injuries, blood, sweat and tears. They see an image, an illusion. They've never seen and will never see the most glorious moments that truly define who I am as a martial artist --- the not-so-graceful moments of countless mistakes; the painful moments where I have to dig deep and muster as much inner strength as I can to continue training day after day --- day after day and on days when I just don't feel like it, days when I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere at all. Only I see that. Only I know when I've given 100%, and when I do I can feel it.  Let me tell you, that euphoric feeling that comes when you know you haven't held anything back is worth more than all the applause in the world.  It's your own heart applauding you.  It's my own integrity saying, "that's my girl!"   

And in that respect, I feel most satisfied with my ukemi at the demonstration more than anything else. I didn't hold back. I gave it my all. And it felt damn good. Effortless. Weightless. And above all, my attacks were martial. Sensei said it was the best ukemi he's ever felt from me, and I believe it. It sure felt that way. 

Sensei knows how much I've been kicking myself lately --- feeling like I've reached a plateau, like I haven't been getting anywhere in spite of how much I've been training. I want to be faster, I want to be more powerful, I want to be a lot of things that I know I'm not. Last Saturday showed me a reflection of myself that defeats all that self-deprecating nonsense. It defeated my ego and replaced it with pure joy. Joy of the dance, a pure enjoyment of the movement. Joy in the realization that if I can show other women, just like I did on Saturday, another example of a woman succeeding at the martial arts and inspire them to raise the bar and push themselves further, that's all I need to feel success.

To all you other flying aikidoka out there:  
Enjoy this moment. Savour the feeling of weightlessness as you soar through the air. Go into your ukemi (and your training) with reckless abandon, without fear and without regret. Who knows what life may bring you in the future --- just enjoy it and train hard while you can.]]></body>
	<date>08-02-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3042">
	<title><![CDATA[Note to Self for the Future]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A public demonstration is not the time to try to pull off waza that one has not practiced for over a year.  *pokes Jeremy violently with her Jo* :D 

(A full update re: last weekend's Gasshuku to follow shortly)]]></body>
	<date>07-18-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3029">
	<title><![CDATA[Lessons Learned on a Windy Dock at 6AM]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Just got back from a fun and relaxing Canada Day long weekend at Shoal Lake and naturally wherever I go opportunities to deepen my understanding of Aikido always seem to follow.

Rootedness on Unstable Ground

I woke up early on Saturday morning and did a hybrid of my AM workout on the dock ---  some balance and Chi Kung breathing/centering exercises and basic Aikido kihon exercises such as different varieties of Irimi Tenkan (as well as some improvised cardio/strength ones thrown in for good measure later on).

As I was performing the balancing and centering exercises in particular, I found that Kawahara sensei's descriptive imagery of rootedness took on a new dimension.  It was far more windy that morning than ever before and the already unstable dock would rock back and forth quite erratically.  Up until this point, I had only had a physical understanding of rootedness "in one's feet" by way of feeling connection to the ground.  I had only a mental understanding of rootedness in one's centre from feeling more stable on stable ground by lowering my centre of gravity (through squatting in Aikido technique).  But when one's ground is itself unstable, one's ability to stay centered is no longer felt in the lower body but (as it became quite apparent to me on the dock) in one's hara.  What was once solely a visual depiction suddenly became a sensory one.

The Aiki of Fishing

We did a fair amount of fishing this weekend, which I enjoyed (caught one Jack, which we ate, a couple nibbled but got away and one snapped the line and took off with my lure, the dirty rotter).  I may have made this analogy before, but just in case I haven't I leave it for your consideration.  As I was fishing, it occurred to me how much the process reminded me of the Aiki concept of leading:  to reel in a fish you need to maintain a certain level of tension on the line; too much tension and the connection between you and the fish is lost --- the line will break and the fish gets away.  Same with one's connection to uke.

---

To my fellow Canadian AikiWebbers, hope you had a wonderful Canada Day long weekend; to my fellow American AikiWebbers, have a great Independence Day tomorrow!  :D]]></body>
	<date>07-03-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2985">
	<title><![CDATA[05/12/2007: SK Seminar with Kawahara Sensei]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Pre-Seminar Nutrition Log: 05/07-05/11

- 15g Creatine/day (in morning fruit shakes) for the 5 days prior
- baked banana loaf for road trip (included oats, hemp seed)
- AM of seminar/"pre-event meal":  good variety fruits, bran muffin, yogurt, omelet w/veggies, apple juice, green tea, 1% milk, the usual vitamin supplements
- Midday lunch break:  focused on low-GI carbs (dried apricots, brazil nuts, apple, orange, pineapple juice), extra multi-vitamin and lots of water, of course

Energy Levels:  (Not so surprisingly) very good!  By the end, I felt like I could go a lot longer still.  :D 
---

After having missed the last seminar in the Fall due to my concussion (since recovered, with little residual effects thank-you!) I was rarin' to go.  I wasn't disappointed.

Kawahara sensei, despite looking like he had lost a considerable amount of weight, was in good spirits.  From an instructor's standpoint he may have seemed negative --- he had a number of disparaging things to say regarding instructors being far too egotistical, not practicing enough, and essentially blaming them for the poor performance of their students --- comments I was told afterwards which were meant more in a cautionary sense.  One wonders, naturally, what more was "lost in translation". :straightf 

Kawahara also made no small point that he felt that a number of his students in both Japan and Canada were "wasting their money" with Aikido by not pushing themselves to train harder.  Personally, (and yes, there is some optimism to me) I viewed sensei's remarks as his way of encouraging us not to be like that.  Call it tough love, call it a familiar feeling I had --- the way it was said reminded me a lot of something my father or grandfather would say.  On the outside, it seemed harsh and even unfair and yet at the same time you knew that what he meant was to push you to be better.  Go figure.  For sensei's sake, I hope it works.

At any rate it was with this sentiment in mind, I'm sure, that the theme of training on this day was kihon waza --- back to the basics for all of us.  Only was the basics unlike many of us had ever seen before.  It was better.  Sensei took the time to go into more detail than (apparently) he has in a while --- regarding the importance of tae sabaki (we practiced entering movements a great deal of the time), proper timing, knowledge of good atemi.  He didn't hesitate to flog people about improper technique --- it was great.  

After all was said and done, one could not shake the feeling that Kawahara sensei (possibly faced with his own mortality) is now looking back with some regrets regarding the kind of Aikido he wishes to leave behind.  In spite of the language barrier, Kawahara sensei seems more willing to vocalize what he knows of technique than ever before --- a thing I know that my own sensei appreciates a great deal.  Less stern than he used to be, he now cracks jokes while he's teaching and likes to tell stories about O Sensei; he encourages those training to treat their practice partners gently (though I believe he might be directed more towards those practicing with mudansha).  One wonders if, nearing the end of his life, Kawahara sensei wishes to impart as much as he possibly can before it is too late.  If so, I sincerely hope that for his sake and ours, he meets with receptive audiences wherever he teaches.

(On the drive back to Winnipeg, I debriefed from the whole thing:  made my usual detailed notes about the essentials of what we practiced, etc.  It seems not long ago that it would have been customary for me to write them all down here in this journal.  The funny thing is, I've little interest in that now --- don't get me wrong --- I've outlined my understanding of things for myself; I feel very strongly that so long as I can do so and preserve my overall insights, then I've done what I need to.  So please excuse me from omitting them for the most part from now on.)

I find it interesting that the overarching theme I observed from the seminar and Kawahara sensei's teachings that day ties in with the general tenor of how I've been approaching my training these days --- so I find it extremely encouraging.  In asking Kawahara later that evening about what his own training was like, my own sensei was told that if one wishes to become powerful, they had to do thousands of repetitions of physically demanding exercises throughout the course of a single day.  

My sensei related this rather ruefully, in doing so acknowledging of course what goes through all of our minds:  that the vast majority of us who train in Aikido today do not have the time (or the luxury, for that matter) to train like professional martial artists.  I for one know for a fact that had he the time and money, my sensei would not hesitate to follow Kawahara sensei to every seminar he teaches at in order to learn as much as he possibly can.  

If only, right?  I know to some it might seem quite futile, or impotent in their longing to do more than they seem able to.  I don't know why, but despite my aspirations I do not despair at this thought.  It has been my (thus far short, I know) lifelong dream to be only one of the very best martial artists.  Knowing what it takes and at the same time knowing just as well that I may not be able to do thousands of reps in a day still does not discourage me.  On the contrary, it pushes me to do as many more as I possibly can when I can --- and to take every single spare moment that I've got to squeeze just one more in.  And then when I think I'm exhausted and at my limit, squeeze just another one in.  I know that over time, it will add up.  To what, I am just as eager to see...]]></body>
	<date>05-17-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2981">
	<title><![CDATA[05/10/07 - On Raising the Bar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...for myself, that is.  [AikiWeb ate my journal entry!  :(   This was a post from last Thursday which, after slaving over it for a goodly amount of time, I lost when AikiWeb logged me out (I guess I took too long).  I'm going to do my best to replicate what was originally written as much as possible.  Consider this a word to the wise for my fellow AikiWeb bloggers:  ALWAYS save your longer entries in another word processing program (ie. even Notepad will do) before submitting it, just in case, because you won't get it back if it doesn't submit properly.  I used to be in the habit of doing this frequently (been burned in the past) but the one time (last Thursday)I decided to forego it, guess what happened?  :grr: ]

So, some time ago I finished reading "Strength and Power Training for Martial Arts" by Martina Sprague --- ultimately, I found it a great overview of many easily-applicable conditioning techniques for all martial artists and as a result have been bringing some of the more overlooked concepts (ie. resistance training for the neck, plyometrics and bodyweight exercises) which the original strength training program designed specifically for me did not include.  I think the only thing missing from Sprague's book was balance exercises --- something I've incorporated at the advice of a physiotherapist in the context of an old ankle injury --- which one would think invaluable to any martial artist.  Otherwise, I felt it was a good general book regarding the benefits and application of conditioning principles specifically for MAs.  As a complement, I highly recommend (and may have mentioned in the past) "Strength Training Anatomy" by Frederic Delavier for a more detailed graphical representation of weight training techniques (including descriptions of proper form, images of variations, and information on common injuries and how to prevent them).

Recently, I also finished reading "The Fighter's Body: An Owner's Manual - Your Guide to Diet, Nutrition, Exercise and Excellence in the Martial Arts" by Loren W. Christensen and Wim Demeere and found it extremely informative (though a lot of the more basic information was already known to me, I liked that a great many details were given as they pertain to martial artists specifically) --- I particularly appreciated the multitude of tips on applying this information to one's daily diet for those of us who have busy lives, as well as side information on nutrition for female martial artists.  Just about the only thing missing for me was nutritional information for during pregnancy (though I am able to access this information from other sources, I thought it would have been a welcome addition to this book).

Currently on my nightstand:  I'm in the middle of "The Science of Takedowns, Throws and Grappling for Self-Defense" and "Combat Fitness for the Elite Female Martial Artist" by Martina Sprague (next up will be "Fighting Science: The Laws of Physics for Martial Artists", also by Sprague) which I'll be reporting on when I'm done. 

So, what's the point of all this?  :confused:  Some folks might wonder if I'm wasting my time.  Naturally, none of this is at the expense of actual training --- on the contrary, this knowledge is a complement to it.  The more I study, the more I find that there are far more advantages to conditioning than many Aikidoka choose to take advantage of...the same fundamental principles of conditioning as they apply to other athletes and martial artists apply just as well to practitioners of Aikido.  

Those of you who know me well know that I have some rather lofty goals for myself when it comes to this art.  And as such, I don't take my training lightly.  To me, serious training and the study of a martial art is more than just a physical act --- it is a physical act that is informed, deliberate, and purposeful; it is a study in the full sense of the word.  Which means continually questioning one's own progress and upping the ante constantly (the latter being an essential principle of resistance training) --- in doing so I intend to push myself as far as I possibly can in order to be the strongest Aikidoka I possibly can.  Some folks might wonder where this all comes from.  They'll assume that I've got something to prove.  Funny how people will often say that about female martial artists above all.  Well, I do have something to prove.  It's just not to you.  It's to me.

I grew up in a family where the appearance of achievement mattered more than the actual attainment of it.  You never dared to question, you never dared to make mistakes, heck --- there was even a point when my mother discouraged me from "all the running around" I loved to do since childhood because it was just "not ladylike to sweat".  The thing is, if you never stop to question, or even try new things and experience failure, you never learn.  There are no such things as stupid questions.  Dare to make mistakes!  To push yourself to your limits physically means that you've got to sweat.  A lot.  I know I'm probably preaching to the converted, but this is where I've come from, such as it is.

The fact is, there are lots of Aikidoka who don't push themselves far enough.  I know them.  I've trained with them.  They're the ones who avoid the harder, less familiar techniques and people who aren't easy to throw.  They stick to what's familiar, what's comfortable, what looks good.  And so they never grow.  I simply refuse to be one of those people.  Like Aikido itself, learning is dynamic, not static.  Masakatsu Agatsu.  

So yeah.  They can laugh at 110-pound little me as I try to throw a 300-pound man.  At least I'm trying.  And you know what?  One day I will, while they're still standing still.]]></body>
	<date>05-14-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2958">
	<title><![CDATA[Yippee!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The Saskatoon Spring seminar has been rescheduled for May!  Mmmaaayyyy!!! :D Can't wait.

By the by, I bet you can't tell that I'm too darn-sod-it busy with work to post anything decent on here lately?  I will, however, mention that I puchased recently and am almost done reading a wonderfully informative book as a supplement to my conditioning program called, "Strength and Power Training for Martial Arts" by Martina Sprague.  

I'll have to go into more detail about it when I have the time, but I highly recommend it to anyone wanting to likewise up the ante with their training regimen and especially to fellow female Aikidoka (she has a particularly relevant chapter on women's training and the misconceptions --- old news to me, but would serve many others well, I'm sure).  Overall, a very well-written book (a good balance between practical directives, facts and anecdotes --- it also has a sport-specific section which includes a strength/conditioning program geared specifically to Aikido and other arts) by a woman who trains and pushes herself hard martially --- she's also written other books such as "Fighting Science: The Laws of Physics for Martial Artists" and "The Science of Takedowns, Throws and Grappling for Self-Defense" that I wouldn't mind picking up in the near future as well.]]></body>
	<date>04-08-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2942">
	<title><![CDATA[The Seminar, or Lack Therof]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, it is with great disappointment that I say this, but it should be readily apparent by the fact that I am posting this and not stretching on the mats at Saskatoon Aikido right now that we're not at the seminar.

Having missed the last one in November due to my post-concussive symptoms, I was really looking forward to this one even more than usual.  Unfortunately, it was cancelled recently due to Kawahara Sensei being sick and we are waiting to hear back (if at all) as to how serious it might be.  My first instinct, naturally, is to believe that one does not cancel plans a week or more down the road based on something as minor as a cold or a flu.

It is with this in mind that I am rather concerned that Sensei, at his current age and having once had to battle Cancer, might not be doing so well at all.  It saddens me to even briefly entertain the idea that one day, (even as early as two to three years from now), the man who tested me for Gokyu might not be the one testing me for Shodan.  I'm aware that this does not always happen, but I'm holding out for it.  

Maybe it's that he reminds me of my late grandfather...I don't know.  I suppose one could say that I have a big soft spot in my hard, brown, little heart for Kawahara Sensei and have been greatly looking forward to his seeing me through Aikido as far as possible.  Suffice it to say, I'm trying hard not to think about it too much --- otherwise, the thought starts to depress me. :straightf]]></body>
	<date>03-17-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2931">
	<title><![CDATA[&quot;She works hard for the money...&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...hee!  I purchased the dojo a new camcorder.  See? :D 
http://www.nwaikikai.com/videos.html  --- I love Adobe Premiere.

It's all minus the nasty *cough* bloopers, of course.  That'll be another post...one day...maybe.  :rolleyes: 

One week to the next seminar in Saskatoon --- can't wait!  I'm going to this one, come hell or high water, darn it!

Will post some ruminatious, pontificatory jibberish soon.  I promise.  "Cross my heart, and kiss my elbow!"  (If only because I'm beat up beyond repair.)]]></body>
	<date>03-10-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2879">
	<title><![CDATA[Leading (in more ways than one)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have extremely high standards.  I guess I don't need to say this to those of you who know me well and/or have practiced with me.  I take my training seriously --- far too seriously to some.  Each night on the mats is a constant struggle --- a duel to the death --- if you will, between who I am and who I want to be.

I know it may sound overly dramatic, but there is a duality at work here that (when I stop to think about it) you can't really avoid in an art such as Aikido.  There is the me that is the practitioner:  the woman whose Aikido is made up of mere physical movements that have come about based upon her own individual physiology, skills and experience.  Right now, this woman is currently trying to delve beyond the physical aspects of the art that are seemingly visible to the eye.  Gone are the days of figuring out what to move.  *How* to move concerns her more now.  She is experimenting with timing, extension, alignment --- essentially, the aspect of leading --- and how these all influence kuzushi (or lack thereof, in her case).

There is also the me that is exemplified by the quality of my character.  She is a woman who strives to be the very best role model she can be for not only the other female practitioners in the dojo, but for any and all who wish to see value in what she does both on and off the mats.  She takes her role as senior student extremely seriously.  She also wishes others took her, as a practitioner, seriously.  She wonders what it will take.  

...and she wonders what --- when both these worlds within her merge --- what the confluence of her mind, body and soul will look like when they finally do.]]></body>
	<date>01-24-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2851">
	<title><![CDATA[New Year's Day Shugyo 2007]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'd like to say that I miss writing in this journal, but I don't.  "Less chatter, more splatter," --- as one of the guys has said --- pretty well sums up my year.  I'd like to think I'm all the better for it.  Some people seem to have more words than days of practice under their belts...thankfully, I'm not one of them.  You'll soon see why.  For this also sums up last night's annual Shugyo.  

It's been almost a month now without a single post-concussive symptom (aside from the time we did a warmup with very small, tight rolls) and I'm back to regular ukemi. It's absolutely heavenly. Only very rarely now will fast pivoting make me dizzy.  Just in time, it would seem.

Last night was poorly attended, and I'm rather disappointed.  I know Sensei was.  One other senior student was conspiciously absent from what is considered an important dojo tradition and an experience that one gets only very rarely in this day and age.  Thankfully, Jeremy, Garry (after having to deal with a flat tire), Matt and Jarod were able to make it...I wish more folks were.

The challenge was to (with no talking or pausing for breaks or adjustments) continually throw and take ukemi for at least an hour (for me and others who started early, it was an an hour and 15 minutes) without stopping, switching roles every 5 minutes and techniques every 20.  The techniques were three different kinds of Kokyunage, and it became apparent right away how important it was to continually apply the five fundamental principles (in particular:  relaxing, breathing, staying centered, and extending).

I have never done better Aikido in my life.  I had to be almost completely exhausted for it to happen, but it happened.  I think I can now fully comprehend Koichi Tohei's statement, marveling that he was being told that he was doing excellent Aikido when really, he was just dead tired (from his job) all the time.  In an effort to conserve energy, I felt myself completely relax as Nage --- and as soon as muscle tension (especially in the shoulder area) was taken out of the equation, it became all the more obvious to me that all I could feel that remained was a connection to my centre.  It was awesome.  The throws became effortless.  Sugoi!  ;-)

I tried to place an even greater emphasis on breathing throughout not only each technique as Nage but in taking ukemi as well --- as the night wore on and we all got bogged down by fatique, I exaggerated this breathing as Nage in the hopes that my Ukes would follow suit...I'm glad that they did, for the most part.  I know it helped me immensely.

It also became quite apparent at the very end, in my fatigue, that once again, I should not second-guess myself.  Like others, in the last five minutes, I reverted to the "rocking motion" for ukemi instead of rolling out and found that it actually became harder on my knee than I thought it would --- it also became harder and harder to get up.  Had I greater confidence in myself, I would have kept rolling out and it would have taken less toll of a toll on me.  Lesson learned.

In the end, we all hung in there and did it.  I'm so proud of everyone.  I hope that they too learned a lot from the experience --- not only about Aikido, but about themselves as well.  I know I sure did.

Happy New Year, everyone.]]></body>
	<date>01-02-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2817">
	<title><![CDATA[Another Slow Progression]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...at least that's what it feels like.  Well, it must be six or seven weeks post-concussion now and in spite of the occasional momentary wave of nausea (which will often overcome me at rather inconvenient times, such as mid-conversation with others :-S ) things are very slowly getting back to normal.  Or that's what I'm telling myself.  The guys on the forums here weren't kidding about feeling tired.  It's like I'm just now getting my energy back.  And still, I have to pace myself.  

I've started doing half the ukemi drills again (10 out of the 20 of each kind) and have finally been incorporating the occasional breakfall (say, one out of every 4 reps).  Despite my classmates' concerns, it's not so much impact that is making me feel ill nowadays --- it's pivoting.  I'll start doing a quick bout of tenkans in a technique or as a result of taking fast ukemi for Sensei and this hazy kind of dizziness will begin; at which point, I'll take a moment to rest or continue practicing slowly.

On the breathing front, my Asthma has greatly improved (or should I say, diminished?) since we picked up a HEPA air filter for the bedroom; I'm no longer wheezing in my sleep, and my peak flow readings have been consistently closer to my personal best (averaging 360-400 these days) than they've ever been.  It's been weeks since I've had to use my inhaler.  Thank God.

I've been keeping a Daily Training Log these days as well, keeping tabs on not only my peak flow, daily nutrition (meals and supplements), any strength and core conditioning I've been doing  (to chart my progress --- grrrr!!!) and most importantly, logging notes on the Ikkyu test techniques (of which there are many).  I figured that it would be the best way to not only ensure that I didn't neglect practicing anything (there are so many!)but also to make note of all the different versions (did I tell you there are a *heck* of a lot of them?) since the goal of this test will be "To apply and variate technique".  The last thing I want to be is a one-hit-wonder, after all.

More to come later --- I've gotta blaze!]]></body>
	<date>11-29-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2790">
	<title><![CDATA[It REALLY Sucks to Be Me]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We're not going to the seminar.  I'm just not well enough yet to be taking falls.  (Even if we were, we have no means of transport out there, it turns out).  And it's practically unheard of in our circle of practitioners to go to a seminar and not take ukemi.  Which is fine by me.  I'd rather not go out at all than get there and not be able to perform well.  C'est la vie, I guess.  Happy now, brain?  I hope so.]]></body>
	<date>11-08-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2789">
	<title><![CDATA[Cross Your Fingers...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The Saskatoon seminar with Kawahara Shihan ETA is five days.  Here's hoping I can make it through the 6 hour drive nausea-free (what more the seminar itself...)  ]]></body>
	<date>11-06-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2784">
	<title><![CDATA[Sucks to be Me]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[10.31.06

Well, Happy Halloween to me.  I can't tell you how much this sucks.  After spending a nauseous, dizzy afternoon at work doing barely anything to provoke it, I'm here "on the bag" again, wishing that movement (or even just sitting here) wouldn't make me feel sick.

I'm watching everyone go through the ukemi drills, missing it badly --- I'm also trying very hard to hide a smile at seeing folks try desparately to keep up with Jeremy's "faster" paced set that I know doesn't challenge him (baby steps for beginners and all) and realize that I miss the *really* fast ukemi we've done before; where there's hardly a moment's pause in between rolls, if any.

Of course, this also leaves the Suwari Waza demo ukemi to poor Garry again, due to Jeremy's bad knee and my shaken noggin'...that is, until it comes to the shoulder osae --- at which point, Jeremy must step in).  I can't help but chuckle a little about it.  I swear, between the three of us, we might actually make one complete and uninjured person to take ukemi right now.  And we shall name him...FrankenUke.

It's a shame that even laughing to myself here makes me want to puke.  I've been taking it (well, comparatively) easy since a brief, yet triumphant return (well, it was for me) to the mats on Thursday upon my (very welcome, yet short-lived) discovery that I wasn't feeling any of the post-concussive symptoms.  They were doing a very slow 13-step jo kata after all, and I figured, what's the harm?  You should have seen how absolutely full of joy I felt during the one-on-one jiyuwaza portion of the night --- doing technique again felt so darn good.

Well, I spoke too soon.  I must have pushed it far too much over the next few days (especially in the area of ukemi), because I feel like absolute crap now.  I can't wait to stop feeling sorry for myself and start training at 100% again.  Unfortunately, it looks like "100%" will only be coming back in minute increments at this rate.  And with only a little over a week to the seminar, I feel at more than a bit of a loss.  Sucks to be me.]]></body>
	<date>11-02-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2778">
	<title><![CDATA[Control]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[10.21.06

As I watch Sensei, Garry and Jim work on paired sensitivity exchanges, I'm led to ponder just how misleading the idea of control can be in Aikido.  It seems that in the process of wishing to regain control of situations that seem beyond it (ie. being attacked), our natural responses to it (ie. struggling) ultimately only result in our allowing our attacker to have control over our body --- they end up leading our aggression instead of it being the other way around. 

It must be extremely counterintuitive to some --- like feeling as though by blending and not struggling, one is giving up their control somehow; whereas it is in fact the converse that is true.  It is as though by "letting go" of our attackers (in the sense of allowing them to continue along the same aggressive movement as they intended), we are in turn letting go of our own ego and aggression.  Very counterintuitive indeed.  This in mind, it's no wonder that so many people have difficulty with it.
]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2777">
	<title><![CDATA[The Wonderful Irony of Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[More Thoughts from "On the Bag"...10.20.06

Gosh, I love Aikido.  I swear, the more I do this art, the more fascinated I become by it.  When I consider the "give and take" exchanges we often practice, I cannot help but see the significance in how blurred the line between attacker and defender become.

We have spent so much of the past year (particularly the Summer) interchangeably going between these kind of exchanges and ones in which there are a distinct uke and nage as well as many more blending/sensitivity excercises (ie. Sticky Hands, Blindfolded Randori, push/pull exchanges).  So much so that more often than not now, I find my body automatically responding with blending and deflecting actions, even when I am assigned the role of uke.

I can't help but smile at the thought of how this art manages to refine you even when you least expect it.  What more for the aggressive individual who starts off hoping to use their learning of the "tricks" of Aikido to defeat others --- only to find that over time, by way of merely performing the movements and their fundamental principles, his own aggression has been "tricked", conditioned into submission instead!  What wonderful irony!

Even the principles of good ukemi --- seemingly designed for self-preservation --- can condition one's body over time to blend and absorb incoming force, if you let it (the operative words here).  You can thank the human body's muscle memory for that...the words "intelligent design" always come to mind.  Simply ingenious.]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2774">
	<title><![CDATA[The Etiology of Pain]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So it looks like I'll be "sitting on the bag" for a little bit.  A dubious honour, I know, but I just received my first concussion (albeit a mild one) during last Saturday's class.  I guess this makes me a serious martial artist now.  ;)

I suppose I could just blame gravity.  Taking a fall in close-quarters from a fast leg sweep, when it came down to My Head VS Garry's Bony Shin, Garry's Bony Shin won.  Thankfully, it wasn't too bad (relatively speaking) --- I didn't get knocked unconscious, after all.

So here I sit, trying not to feel so dizzy and nauseous, helping out with the Beginner's Class and watching poor Garry have to take ukemi for Sensei in my place all week during the Regular Class.  I'm sure he must be as pleased as punch now that at least Sascha can take some of that...pleasure from him.  :)

Hopefully these symptoms go away soon so that I can get back to my life --- granted, they may not be as bad now as they were a few days ago, but for lack of a better way of describing it:  it just plain sucks.  I'm getting motion sickness from a bleedin' elevator ride and a 5 minute drive, for crying out loud --- what more were I to tenkan a lot or do ukemi right now.  It just plain sucks.

But it's a head injury (read:  medically-speaking, a Very Big Deal) and heck, I happen to like my brain, thank-you very much.  Contrary to what others might believe, it rather comes in handy.  So as soon as these nasty post-concussive symptoms disappear, it'll be a gradual progresion back to regular training.  Once I can get through at least 20 minutes of activity symptom-free, that is.  Then it's baby steps from there.  Oh, joy.  But first things first, of course.  "Wiggle your big toe."  :-P

In the meantime, I'm going through withdrawal already.  As Jon has said before, my body was "definitely made for movement" and boy, does it ever miss moving.  :(

While rather sedentary in some respects, I've been spending some time taking advantage of the vast opportunities my workplace offers in the way of research (to say the least).  I'm loving being a staff member of a university.  Where else can I:
- have a desk job that allows me to conserve energy all day for training in the evenings and lets me off with more than enough time to get to class?
- run just across the street to get access to not only athletic therapists and trainers, but the weight room on my lunch breaks?
- get a gym membership for less than $100 a year as both staff and alumni?
- get a generous employee health benefits package that includes Physiotherapy and massage?
- get ready access to tons of academic works and journal articles regarding Health, Kinesiology, Philosophy and even...Aikido, believe it or not?

It's almost as though working here was somehow meant to be (at least from a training perspective)...

Recently, it was a rather delightful discovery of mine to find a series of studies done over the past decade and published in the journal "Perception and Motor Skills" regarding the etiology of pain behind Ikkyo, Nikyo, Sankyo and Yonkyo.  I found them particularly fascinating fron not only a technical perspective, but from an injury-care perspective as well (it's nice to be able to describe to a Physiotherapist "what the heck happened" from your --- rather uncommon --- martial art).  

Especially so in taking this Prevention and Care of Sport Injuries course.  The course has forced me to increase my sparse knowledge of Human Anatomy and Physiology and in so doing, I cannot help but find reading about "how it works", Aikido-wise, very interesting.  Looking at the minutae of what I'm doing seems to have the result of opening my imagination towards greater possibilities regarding technique, especially in finding the most efficient application of it.

Having a working knowledge of the etiology of pain behind Aikido techniques also has the added benefit of better serving my own injury management.  As I've said before, I'd never been much interested in the healing arts until I finally got into seriously training in the martial ones.  Fancy that.]]></body>
	<date>10-20-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2746">
	<title><![CDATA[Transitions]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, Fall is here again and with it, change.  For one, the dynamic in the dojo is in a very positive state of flux demographically-speaking --- not only is Jim back in town from Ontario (pleasantly surprising us all last night), but started on the mats again just as two young sisters (approx. 8 and 13) had their first beginner's class.  They both seem eager to learn (the younger girl being pretty enthusiastic and the older sister a little more serious/intense) --- I took them through the basic ukemi rocking motion and Shikko before we practiced some Tae No Henka and beginner's Randori (simply getting out of the way of Tsuki attacks).  Considering it was their very first class, the girls seem like really quick studies --- I hope they stick it out...I think we've also broken a dojo record:  we've never had this many females practicing on the mats before!  Needless to say, I'm rather excited about it.  :-D

Test preparations have started again, and I'm gearing up to test for Ikkyu in a year.  It's still tough to believe how time has flown by...I'll have to go into some detail on my own conditioning, "study" and practice preparations in my next post --- got to get back to work now.  :-P]]></body>
	<date>09-20-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2689">
	<title><![CDATA[A New Aikidoka?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[How could I forget --- *clears throat*  IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!
On Canada Day at approximately 10:30PM, Andrew's wife gave birth to a baby girl named Ruby Addison (sp?)!  So he'll be on hiatus for about a month but maybe one day, years down the line, we'll have another female practitioner in the dojo.  Of course, that's if her dad sells it to her right.  ;-)]]></body>
	<date>07-11-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2685">
	<title><![CDATA[07/08/06 - Nikyu:  A Retrospective]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, it's over.  I'm so proud of the new 5th kyus --- they really pulled it together in the end and did great!  Garry tested for Sankyu on Thursday so that he could attend a reunion in Souris over the weekend and did well --- that was a long time coming (he originally should have tested for 3rd kyu back when I did).  So that made me Ken's uke for his Sankyu test, which felt great --- he did very well and put a nice lot of "pepper" into his techniques; I'm glad he didn't seem to hold back on me too much despite my re-injuring my wrist on Friday (I made a point of stretching it a lot during the other tests to warm it up, so it was just fine).  

Taking ukemi for Ken's test was just the challenge I needed to up the ante on my own test right afterwards.  There's a very gratifying feeling about being able to focus and perform well when you're nearly exhausted.  :-D  Suffice it to say, I "nailed" it --- or so I've been told.  Just being able to do the whole test from start to finish felt great.  I love the freeing feeling you get from being able to do technique just as you want to with the whole mat space to yourself.  I really have fun doing it...though if you were to ask people, they might wonder (as I've been told that I have a pretty scary, serious "game face")!  :-P

It's finally (just now) sinking in that I'm actually Nikyu.  Time seems to have flown by so quickly.  To think, just another year or so to Ikkyu and as Sensei would say, "a hop, skip and a jump to Shodan."  Just bring it.  ;-)

---

Nikyu - A retrospective 

Things learned since Sankyu...

About movement and the art:

- It's amazing what a few little circles can do.
- Everything I've been reading about conditioning really is true --- muscle memory relies upon repetition, so plenty of practice is the key.   
- The more and more I do Aikido, the more and more I love how it feels.

About me:

- Challenges excite me.  More often than not, I find myself thriving rather than stressing out under pressure.  Go figure.
- Apparently, I'm "The Irimi Queen"...that has a certain ring to it I kind of like!  :-D

About...stuff:

- It's been almost four months now since I started that strength and conditioning program and have already seen gains in core strength, wrist flexibility/injury rehabilitation and overall muscle strength.  I have no doubt that the former will help add power to my technique and that the latter will greatly help prevent future injury.
- The backwards, heels-over-head breakfall out of what I like to call the "Hail Mary Throw" (because I make the sign of the cross before going over) is hella fun!


Though I've noticed some improvement in the first three over the past seven months, I'm still continuing to work on improving in the coming year:

- building greater core strength

- strengthening my grip

- making my ushiro ukemi consistently rounder and faster

- making my dive rolls both higher and longer

- increasing the speed and power of my weapons work

I also am looking forward to:

- trying to master what I call "The John Ellison Special" (a.k.a. the clothesline breakfall out of a hard Iriminage that only J.E. could do well) --- we don't practice it enough!

- increasing my unilateral balance (especially on my weak ankle's side) as per one physiotherapist's suggestion

- planning out a solid training plan for reaching Ikkyu and beyond within the next couple of years --- time to implement all those conditioning strategies I've been reading about!

---

So what have I learned so far?

[Previous years...

2005 

- The power of prayer.  That with faith, one can acheive anything.

- That I have been greatly blessed, both on and off the mat, and that I never want to take it for granted.

- If I believe I can do it, I can.

- "I've learned that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard --- because if it isn't there, then I never really lost it to begin with."  --- wise words from Dorothy Gale, "The Wizard of Oz"

- Although having the opportunity to instruct others a little over the past year has been quite valuable (insofar as learning and developing different ways of explaining things), I am far more interested in training.  I've heard enough from senior practitioners who have expressed disatisfaction at their own development, which would often take the backburner to teaching others and certainly don't look forward to this happening to me.  

- Some of the most valuable lessons I've been learning have been as Uke --- I've grown more sensitive to how good technique on the part of Nage effects my centre through adequate tension and have been taking pains to replicate it as much as possible.

- Learning technique has evolved for me from what was initially about form towards being more about feel --- my increasing self-dissatisfaction with how things feel as I move has driven me to seek a smoothness, flow and efficiency to what I'm doing.  I've joked before (only half-facetiously) that the only real difference lies in that now I can discern exactly how badly I suck.  This really isn't as bad as it sounds.  I never want to get to the point where I feel that I've "arrived" somehow --- I constantly want to keep growing and pushing myself and my own self-conceived limits towards excellence and self-mastery.  Only time will tell as to how successful this will be.

---

2004

- To listen to my body. That if a technique feels awkward or I feel even slightly off balance, I'm doing something incorrectly and need to make an adjustment.

- To have faith in myself. I can get carried away by feelings of self-doubt, and I keep forgetting that inherently, my body knows how to move (as alluded to above) and what to do if I just listen to it.

- To breathe. I mean, really breathe --- to pay attention to my breathing, which is not only relaxing, but gets me completely centred and focused in the moment.

- That it's not about perfection --- it's about who and where I am right now. And that in itself is pretty darn awesome. I always keep looking back, thinking, "it could have been so much better" --- and really, it always could be. But you know what? It's a long haul, but it *will* only get better. (Thanks Carolynne!)"] 

---

Stats/Little Milestones as of 07/08/06 (* - denotes change since last tally at Sankyu): 

Training w/current dojo since - January 8, 2003

*Number of classes attended - 771

Number of days extra training on the weekend - 9+? [N/A as of 2006 (Saturday morning classes implemented)]

*Number of seminars attended - 6

Number of other dojos visited while travelling - 6

Number of classes at other dojos as visitor - 6 

*Total number of hours training - approx. 1433.5

*Number of journal entries - 195

Number of hours of remedial massage - 6.5

*Number of visits to the physiotherapist - 8

Number of neoprene/Tensor joint braces accumulated - 6

Number of weapons broken - 1

Number of times I've been hit on the head by a weapon - 2

Number of fat, bloody lips (received from Sensei's atemi) - 4

*Total number of joint sprains/other injuries (ankles, big toe, wrist, thumbs, etc.) - 13

Number of bloody noses - 1.0 

Number of huge, freaky bruises accumulated - innumerable

Number of times my massive Yonkyo bruises freaked someone out - 2

*Number of times large clumps of hair have been accidentally wrenched out of my ponytail by Nage - 3

*Number of rolls of athletic tape consumed - 4.5

Number of Salonpas patches consumed - 13

*Number of pounds of Epsom Salts used to soak in hot baths - 6.5

*Number of patches sewn and other repairs to dogi - 9

*Number of dogi retired due to becoming worn and ripped beyond repair - 1

Number of Kohai gained - I've stopped counting...too many people come and go.

Number of other females who joined the dojo briefly and left - 4 *sniff* :0(  

Number of other females who joined the dojo and have stayed - 1 (Lisa...yup, she's still here, now takes great ukemi and just got her Gokyu on the same day!) *yay!*  :-D

Largest number of simultaneous Randori attackers successfully faced - 5 (!) *does a little happy dance*]]></body>
	<date>07-10-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2678">
	<title><![CDATA[Nikyu, here I come.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, it's going to be a hectic month.  When I think about it, it's amazing that I'm still finding the time to get out to class five times a week.  Aside from the usual work (crazy time of year for Admissions) and working out (I've been making noticeable gains in the strength area --- yay me), I just moved to a new apartment (which we're also repainting), my volunteer work is getting more and more involved (Ai-Kon is in just a few weeks) and I'm getting married the week after.  I guess it just goes to show how much training has become a solid part of my life...I don't even think about the rest of it, really.  Mat time is just mat time.  The rest of my life just doesn't exist in those moments.  Funny how that happens after a while.

Did I mention that I'm testing for Nikyu on Saturday?  *sarcastic laugh*  Time flies.  I really thought it would be further down the road.  Go figure.  Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be.  I'm not even as nervous about it as I used to be.  No last-minute cramming this time at all...it must be all the practice, or fatigue, or both.  I don't know whether to describe how I feel as apathy (regarding significance, or lack thereof, of rank) or some bizarre form of confidence I'd never imagined before.  All I know is that I'm sick of test techniques day in, day out.  I want to get back to the practical stuff.  The Tanto waza, the close-quarters stuff.  The stuff that counts.  The stuff that can't be measured by rank.  The real stuff.  I miss it so badly, I can taste it.    ]]></body>
	<date>07-05-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2646">
	<title><![CDATA[It's a lot like dancing (because it *is* dancing).]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For the past five weeks, Jon and I have been taking a weekly Beginner's Ballroom Dancing class in our "copious" free time on Friday nights.  Believe it or not, it was *his* idea!  After a long day of work, (which often includes working out and then Aikido) we dance our tired feet off.  Naturally, with our mutual background, the first thing that came to mind was that we could actually get pretty good at it and so far, so good.  With just another three weeks left to the class it's been fun, challenging and above all, way more of a complement to Aikido than we thought it would be.

To begin with, there's all the leading.  Counterintuitive as it was, I had to give up on the feminist idea of moving autonomously (at least on the dance floor).  The guy has the lead.  The fascinating thing about it is *how* he leads.  My Aikidoka friends here will know exactly what I'm getting at:  the male partner leads the movement of the pair through the changes he makes in his frame (posture) and the pressure he maintains on his female partner's back; he also guides the female partner through turns and other movements by maintaining a certain tension on her hand to lead her forward and guide her back.  At higher levels of proficiency, the partners communicate purely through movement by maintaining and changing the tension in their points of contact --- all without choreography, all without saying a word.  *Very* cool.  *Very* Aiki.  

I'm also getting to see "Sensei" from another perspective.  For once, Jon is the bumbling newbie with two left feet, starting out at square one just as I am.  It's led me to appreciate even moreso how he must have worked exceedingly hard to get to where he's at with Aikido --- that he wasn't one of those gifted and mythical "naturals" that had it easy...it's led me to likewise see more clearly where he comes from when he explains Aikido techniques; that it comes from years of learning what works and what doesn't from his own experience.  I just hope some of the newbies in the dojo take it to heart when he tells them that Aikido is a helluva lot of work and that they need to train hard if they want to get far with it.  I'm certain that knowing how Sensei was genuinely once struggling just like they are would have a great impact on the way they train now.  I know it must be tough to believe without seeing it for their own eyes, but it's true!  

So far, I think our biggest challenge has been timing.  Ah yes, yet another Aiki-related aspect.  Overall, Jon is wonderfully coordinated, but (poor guy) struggles with rhythm.  Darn that Baptist, "Dancing-is-the-work-of-the-devil!" conditioning.  Fortunately, I don't have the same problem...Filipinos love to shake their booty.  :-D  So needless to say, it's also been a great test of my patience.  It's the old perfectionist, overachiever in me that likes to forge ahead independently and sink or swim on my own --- ballroom dancing, however, just doesn't work that way.  It's all together as a team or nothing.

In spite of all the challenges (we're both self-deprecating perfectionists after all), we're having fun --- I'm loving the Tango like you wouldn't believe and we seem to be getting more compliments than corrections from our instructors and other couples.  Only time will tell how far we eventually want to take it.  You never know.  ]]></body>
	<date>05-26-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2606">
	<title><![CDATA[An Obituary for a Well-loved Dogi]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It is with great sorrow that I bid farewell to a faithful, old friend.  Around 19:45 last night, my favourite dogi met with his untimely demise during a well-played round of Randori in which he was grabbed Katadori and could finally bear the strain of past years no longer.  Choosing to sacrifice his own life to save me, he let his arm give way to allow me a dashing escape from the foul clutches of my ukes.  He has served me well for over three years (including during the past year of nearly daily practice) and the comfort he has provided --- as well as the fact that he was the only dogi in the dojo without a brand --- will be greatly missed.  He will be temporarily resurrected tonight with duct tape for one last hurrah and then will sadly be replaced with another very soon. 

May he rest in peace.    ]]></body>
	<date>04-21-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2592">
	<title><![CDATA[The infamous "No Pain, No Gain Tally" for the past]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Pains... :(
- One Sensei-sprained Dai-Yonkyo wrist.
- One sprained middle finger from a freak occurence involving the heel of my own Sensei's not-yet-ranked uke at the seminar (I guess this means I won't be flipping anyone off for a while.  Rats.)  
- Sore shoulders from working out.  A new and...delightful treat.
- That damn Aiki-Otoshi.  'Nuff said.

Gains...  :)
- A heck of a lot of training.
- Experience (ie. another great seminar)
- Knowledge (in the form of three books read and one video on ukemi watched --- see last entry)
- Reps.  Lots of them.  I'll beat that Aiki-Otoshi into submission yet!
- A growing (though often fluxuating) self-confidence.  Yay me!]]></body>
	<date>04-14-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2587">
	<title><![CDATA[Vive la difference?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Another seminar has come and gone.  We had a relatively small group from the dojo make the excursion to Saskatoon this time around (just five this time as opposed to twice this last November) but I suppose this is more like it used to be.  (Speaking of how things used to be, dojo attendance has been waning lately --- but I digress.)

I spent a fair amount of the drive reading to Sensei from "The Wing Chun Compendium" that I mentioned in my last entry.  In discussing the fundamental principles of the art, we remarked on not only the many similarities between it and Aikido but on the very marked differences as well.  This comes as no surprise after having dabbled in Wing Chun for a bit not that long ago and only served to highlight what I had noticed then:  Wing Chun, having behind it the drive to dispatch one's opponent as quickly as possible, despite its emphasis on Sticky Hands training, relies upon the principle that the most efficient way of doing so is through linear striking.  The book was eerily unabashed in its notes on both how "inefficient" circular movement is for smaller people (hmm) and how many of the pressure points it utilizes can result in death.  

Conversely, as we all know, Aikido with its circular movement relies upon this blending and leading to be effective.  Both arts tout themselves as being ideal for smaller, weaker people.  But what a difference the philosophy makes!  Sensei remarked that in all likelihood, Wing Chun is what Aikido would be without its philosophy of harmony.  An interesting thought.  The more we spoke of it, the more we discussed what attracted us to Aikido in the first place.  

When originally trying to decide upon a martial art, the practicality (for myself as a smaller person) of both Wing Chun and Aikido was appealing, but it was ultimately the underlying principles of Aikido that drew me to it more.  Later on, my Wing Chun instructor telling us to visualize aggressive violence in the form of "unleashing our inner dark side" confirmed to me once again in a very tangible way that I had ultimately made the right choice.  As we've been learning so very distinctly in Randori practice lately, the state of one's mind --- whether aggressive or not --- carries a great deal of significance in how it influences your movement and how you deal with your attackers. 

But about the seminar...due to the long drive, our group was only able to practice the Saturday (how fortunate for those from the Saskatoon dojo who were able to reap the benefits of Kawahara Sensei's instruction for the whole weekend --- and with so much room on the mats, as it seems that all the other out-of-towners likewise had to leave early!); it makes me wish we had the resources to host our own seminar here in Winnipeg.  Despite the crowded mats as always, however, it was quite valuable --- though that is no surprise.  Kawahara Sensei apparently seems to prefer to cover many of the same techniques at his seminars rather consistently:  Shihonage, Nikkyo, Kotegaeshi, etc. and always does so with a very martial attitude that is delightful to see in someone of his age.  It is a shame that this time around, we had no interpreter as in seminars past.  Oftentimes, it can be difficult to understand what he is saying.  Among a great many things, we learned an interesting tidbit from Kawahara Sensei about Shihonage regarding projecting uke's arm out ahead of your centre so that it is straight prior to the turn...naturally, loving Shihonage like I do, I couldn't help but fixate on this one.

At any rate, despite the fact that no one from our dojo tested at this seminar, it was nonetheless exciting (at least to me) to try one's mettle with other, less-familiar Aikidoka and be able to see a Shihan of Kawahara Sensei's calibre in action.  I had the opportunity of being able to practice with half of the Yudansha there (three out of six ain't bad) and feel the differences between their Aikido.  Which reminds me:  one thing that you inevitably get to see is the discrepancy between yourself or others from your dojo and those similarly-ranked from other dojos.  And that's about all I have to say about that.  At least on record.  And still  remain somewhat diplomatic.  ;-)]]></body>
	<date>04-12-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2575">
	<title><![CDATA[Upping the Ante]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[And if you thought that going to every class (five times a week) wasn't enough...I went to the Athletic Therapy centre at work and got them to design a strength and conditioning program for me.  

It's been almost two weeks of this now, and I am loving it like you wouldn't believe.  There's just something about getting up early, pushing yourself physically, sweating your brains out and then relaxing with a nice shower and quiet moment alone in the sauna before starting work in the morning that is so invigorating.  But I digress.

Essentially, I told the guy that my goals were to supplement my Aikido training:  primarily build core strength (along with overall strength in general), flexibility and to reinforce the muscles around my joints to prevent future injury.  Knowing that I already do a heck of a lot of cardio (yes, he saw the dojo video), he went ahead and apparently spent the most time he'd ever spent on a conditioning program for me with all of this in mind. 

What he came up with was a very comprehensive plan that involves:  
- Back and Arms on day one
- Shoulders, Hamstrings & Gastrocnemius-Soleus Complex (fancy term for...calves :-P) on day two
- Triceps, Quadriceps & Glutes on day three
- Lots of stretching and core training daily (and how.)  

Whew.  All I can say about the core training part is, "Wow."  You just can't beat doing 50 Russian Twists with a weight to the tune of The Guess Who's "American Woman".  It just rocks.  And Back Extension "Y-T-Ws"...I may as well spell out "E-X-C-R-U-C-I-A-T-I-N-G".  It's awesome.

In other related news, Sensei sprained my wrist during last Thursday night's Randori while trying to do a Dai-Yonkyo that ended up too low (ineffective as Yonkyo, but hard and fast enough to induce a very loud, very painful popping noise that the guys could hear from across the room).  He felt really bad about it, poor guy.  I got home to find that my dojo shirt with "I *Heart* Randori" on the back (the heart has a Band-Aid on it, incidentally) just arrived...that cheered me up right away.  The next morning, I went to Urgent Care to have my wrist looked at, X-Rayed and generally prodded at.  It's still a little sore in some places (especially doing Kotegaeshi, Sankyo, and Nikkyo on it --- at least more than usual).  Otherwise, it seems to be healing up nicely.  I'm hoping that it'll be close to 100% for the seminar this weekend.

That's the other thing.  We (albeit a smaller crowd than last time) leave tomorrow morning for Saskatoon again.  No one's testing this time, which means that I can go all out instead of having to pace myself so much.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that someone from another dojo will be testing whom I can take ukemi for...call me crazy, but I love it.  Let's face it.  You don't often get to see too many female Aikidoka out my way who take good ukemi, and I think it's high time folks saw it happen.  So I've got a bit of dojo pride in me.  Why not?  I'd like to think it's a testament to having such a great teacher and such excellent training partners --- how can I not be proud to represent?  

I'm thinking especially of all the awesome exercises we've been doing lately to keep things "real" on the mats --- I'm particularly enjoying the back and forth, one-on-one exchanges where we slowly try to perform technique while our partners try not to let us get away with it too easily; we end up doing a lot of blending and reversals, which I've always found both fun and fascinating.  I think I've described it before...it's like a moving puzzle. 

Okay, I better get to bed...especially if I'm going to get up early to work out tomorrow, do laundry and get packed before the long drive out West.  Among the books I intend to read to Sensei while he's driving include my recently-obtained copy of Wayne Belonoha's "The Wing Chun Compendium" (which I'd been drooling over since Christmas).  I swear --- the second Sensei saw it, he said, "Uh oh.  Now we're gonna get it."  I'll be sure to let you know if and when they do, and especially how.  :-D  Have a great weekend, folks!

---
Status Report...
Just finished reading:  "The Science of Martial Arts Training" by Charles I. Staley, "Strength Training Anatomy" by Frederic Delavier
Just finished watching:  Donovan Waite's Ukemi Video (Part One)  ]]></body>
	<date>04-07-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2543">
	<title><![CDATA[Video Killed the Aikido Star]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Okay!  I've finally done it!  Now Ken can quit hassling me.  I'm ready to redeem my sushi dinner, Sensei.  XD  

See?
http://www.nwaikikai.com/videos.html]]></body>
	<date>03-11-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2541">
	<title><![CDATA[It's a lot like dancing...in the dark.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Due to a fire in the building next door, the power was out at our dojo last night.  There was just enough daylight left to do an extended Beginner's class filled mostly with the short-range defenses we'll often do on Mondays and Saturdays.  After about an hour and a half, you could barely make out the figures in front of you and we had no choice but to call it an early night.

It was definitely a challenge, as our visibility slowly dimmed, to keep pace with each strike (mostly hooks to the temple and straight punches to the stomach).  Not surprisingly, I got clipped in the ear a couple of times and it would often come down to a matter of feel to avoid getting struck by what to me (with my poor eyesight as it is) looked liked swift blurs in the darkness.  

In any case, despite its brevity, it was good practice --- the kind which I wouldn't mind replicating again and again for obvious, practical reasons.  I know, I know.  It's either that I'm always in the dark, or that I'm always fighting shadows.  ;-)]]></body>
	<date>03-10-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2528">
	<title><![CDATA["Proving" My Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[If you haven't noticed, I'm constantly second-guessing myself.  I never want to become complacent, never thinking that I've somehow achieved something that I haven't, never resting secure or over-confident in my skills --- whatever they might be.  The folly of hubris, I know, has its consequences.  Any student of Classics or Literature can tell you that.

But perhaps even moreso than many others in the dojo, I feel --- as a small person --- as though I do have something to prove.  Aikido itself.  Every time I move.  I feel eyes on me whenever we do a demonstration, whenever we have a visitor to the dojo.  I sense them, scrutinizing.  They are curious eyes.  I often wonder what they see.  I wonder, sometimes, that they do not see me as I see myself:  fumbling, struggling within --- sometimes calm and at ease, sometimes light and playful with my movements.  More often than not (say after a test, or after this most recent demonstration) they tell me afterwards that I am graceful.  Little do they know that delicacy of movement hardly means anything to me compared to power.  

I want strong Aikido, not just beautiful Aikido.  I want the kind that leaves you as an attacker gawking in awe and surprise at what just happened.  "She was there just a second ago and then she was gone."  "I went to grab her and ended up on my can, wondering how the hell I got there."  That sort of Aikido. 

There are a series of things in my training experience that serve as landmarks, indicators that I am on the right track with this.  Oftentimes, these will be found in feedback from my training partners.  There have been rare moments when a fellow student, as my uke, will compare how my technique feels to Sensei's or another, higher ranked Aikidoka's, in a positive way.  Though I am not as of yet able to replicate these moments consistently, these few times I've heard someone comment, "That felt like Sensei!" remind me that I (at 5'1" and 100lbs soaking wet) can sometimes be capable of moving an uke just as well as a former power lifter almost twice my weight and numerous times my physical strength.  They remind me that Aikido works.  They are a reminder that it works in spite of when my own ineptitude at the art feels as though it is bound to become a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Just last night, for example, I was practicing Ushiro Ryokatadori Aiki Otoshi for the very first time.  Even before having tried it once, I knew that I would absolutely, positively despise Aiki Otoshi.  I knew without a doubt that it would become an even bigger thorn in the side of my Aikido than Koshinage ever was.  Naturally, as is the way with such things, I had to work with Garry (probably the heaviest guy in the dojo at the moment) on it.  Thankfully, there are variations of the technique that decrease in difficulty, but seeing as I eventually have to come to know all three, we of course practiced all three.  

There came a point in the night when one of our unranked beginners, having watched me attempt to throw Garry without success for some time, in response to a frustrated comment I had made, sarcastically remarked that perhaps the reason I could not throw him the way Sensei demonstrated was because (unlike Sensei) I "can't deadlift 200lbs."  The funny thing was (that I can actually deadlift 200lbs --- just kidding!) that moments earlier, we had just come off a round where Garry noticed that how I was throwing "felt almost like Sensei".  Little did he know.  Little do I know.  For there are times when it seems that my body knows far more than I do.  Perhaps after enough practice one of these days, my mind and body will find a way to get together for coffee and compare notes.  And perhaps even after more practice, they'll be in the mood to let me in on it, too.    ]]></body>
	<date>03-01-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2522">
	<title><![CDATA[Kokyu Probs: from Curse to Blessing in Under 2 Hrs]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So I have Asthma.  Or so I've been diagnosed.  Finally.  You'd think the four doctors I've had over the past six years would have taken a hint from all the wheezing, deep chest congestion and shallow breathing I'd been doing.  So much for Kokyu.

Nonetheless, I've been managing.  The new Ventolin inhaler proved a Godsend over the past weekend.  But as I've been finding out, it's not going to be a picnic in the least.  Couple this with having to work on an infuriating test technique (Ushiro Ryokatadori Nikkyo, Ura) with a heavy uke (Garry) and you have the makings of what would have been a very frustrating evening --- at least it was initially.

By the time Randori practice rolled around near the end of class, I decided I was going to take it easy.  I figured that if I were faced with a similar real-life situation and had an Asthma attack, I should learn to be able to deal --- surprise, surprise --- with as little effort as possible.  So I worked on fluidity, reacting to my ukes as gently and slowly as possible  though I kept moving continuously as always.  Much to my pleasure, I experienced the best two rounds of Randori I'd had in a very long time.  I was barely winded, and it all felt (even a little too) easy.

God really works in mysterious ways.  My breathing problems have been a bane for far too long...yet if they had never existed, I might never have had to force myself to alter my practice in such a beneficial way.  Now it just comes down to continuing to do so in reaction to overly-aggressive ukes...part of me (the continually self-doubting part) wonders if perhaps my ukes were just going easy on me because they knew I wasn't feeling well...but I'll have to save that for another entry --- it's a whole other can of worms that will take some time to relate, that's for sure.  ]]></body>
	<date>02-23-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2514">
	<title><![CDATA[Gasshuku Weekend and Public Demonstration, Feb. 18]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I am so sore, it's not even funny.  Actually, I can't help but laugh ---
here I am at work, and my biceps ache every time I use the date stamp!

I did a tally and we must have done just over 10 hours of training this
weekend, including the demo for friends and family last night.  Whew!  Where
to start?

Doug Reichert from Aikido of Winnipeg was good enough to take time out
of his busy schedule and come by as a guest instructor in Iwama style and he
brought some of his students to train with us as well.  As with the last
Gasshuku we did with members of his dojo in the past year, it was great to
be able to experience both the differences
and most importantly, the fundamental similarities between Iwama and
Aikikai.  The former, as some of us noticed, had a great deal more
linear/flat elements of movement that --- as we saw --- were just as vital
in their adaptations to differing situations, depending upon the
kind of energy uke gives you.  Being able to see and feel the differences
firsthand and back-to-back proved invaluable.  It was also great to see and practice with some of the usual suspects from the other dojo again, like Alissa's friend Gillian.

In a nutshell:

This weekend, we got to have a taste of some new and different
stretching warmups (much to Garry's chagrin, though I hadn't done so since
uh, elementary school, I really did want to do a handstand (!) and he had a
heck of a time having to try to hold me up, let me tell you --- naturally,
it took both Matt and Reichert Sensei to hold Sempai Jeremy up :-D),
variations on traditional exercises (such as Tae no Henka and Kokyudosa),
and revisiting the usual waza (such as Kokyuho, Kotegaeshi, Shihonage and
Koshinage).  Just "loading" uke on the latter proved to be a lot of fun, as
Sensei caught us goofing off on videotape; I'm sure it had a great deal to
do with us (at least the hardcore bunch who attended both days) all being quite
exhausted nearing the end of the last training day.  At the very least, I
couldn't resist doing my best "Splinter Cell" impersonation, walking around
with Lisa over my hips as the "body" I needed to dump in a dark corner.  ;-)

We also dabbled a bit in some Iwama-style weapons practice, doing exchanges
between Jo and Bokken.  As before, it was quite challenging to try to adapt
to the different stance and striking method (enables one to raise a weapon
without hitting it on say, a doorway) and "start-stop" way of breaking down
the exchange in practice.  At this level, our own Sensei has been
encouraging us to make all of our exchanges flowing and continuous,
which was quite the habit to try to break --- much, I am sure, to Reichert
Sensei's chagrin.  :-D

Among the usual, traditional waza, our own Sensei Hay covered some
Kaeshi waza, which I was particularly looking forward to, since we
hadn't done some of this for a while now (though it used to be that we'd
do Kaeshi waza and Henka waza fairly regularly on Fridays).  I love
getting the opportunity to feel transitions between techniques and
intent behind movement and wish we'd do more of this on a regular basis.
 Hay Sensei also covered some Randori, which was a fun challenge while
working with members of the other dojo --- feeling the energy that "new
people" bring to their attacks as uke and having to adapt to them is
always interesting.

The one disappointment I had this weekend was that so few of our own
students attended the Gasshuku (and even fewer were around to take part in
the demonstration) --- even a couple of core students didn't show up, which
was really surprising.  The one thing we could always count on when Sempai
Jeff and J.E. were around is that there would be no way you could just get
away with not showing up for something as important to the dojo as that.  I
thought at the very least, those new students who (as of yet) are unable to
attend seminars would have been eager to get a taste of this type of
training, especially in a differing style.  I know that when I was unranked,
the thought of doing anything even remotely similar to what say, an
uchideshi would do (ie. train all day) was very cool to me.

The demonstration went well, though it was just me, Jeremy, Ken, Matt and
Lisa (and Trevor showed at the last minute to do some rolling with us).  I
know Sensei was wanting us all to have fun (which we did) but I kept getting
mixed messages --- he does have quite a few perfectionist tendencies that
seep out now and then, and it really keeps you on edge and makes you feel
self-conscious sometimes.  Initially, I felt a little nervous and could even
feel my breathing go heavy, but after a few shots of Ventolin (not to
mention some very desparate prayer) was right as rain.

Aside from rolling and Shikko (the spinning version of which I was made to
demonstrate alone --- eek!), I demo'ed some Suwari Waza with Ken, Matt &
Lisa (due to Jeremy's bum knee), Tachi Waza with Jeremy, both 13-step weapons kata with
him and Ken and we all took a heck of a lot of Kokyunage ukemi for Sensei.
In an unprecedented move, Sensei did the Jo exchanges we had planned with
Jeremy and instead let me do the Randori part of the demo.

I can only describe it as both an extremely exciting and nerve-wracking experience, to be completely on one's own in demonstrating Aikido like that...I mean, I *love* Randori.  Anyone who knows me well knows that.  But in such a situation, there's always this underlying fear that I'm going to screw up and completely wreck peoples' impressions of Aikido.  But I calmed my nerves, took a deep breath and did it anyway.  Jeremy, Ken and Lisa were the gracious victims --- er, ukes.  ;-)  The first round (which I believe was the better of the two) was defending against Ryokata attacks alone and the second against random attacks.  Though I felt they weren't my best Randori --- not by a long shot --- Sensei insisted that I performed well and made a very good impression; as he said, he had the luxury of being able to watch people watching me do Randori and was able to see the excitement it seemed to generate.  Apparently there were times when it seemed like I was about to be cornered by everyone and it would be all over, but would manage to pop out of harm's way at the last second, much to the pleasure of some of the women in the audience.  

I always wished that a lot of guys would fall for me.  I just should have been more specific.  ;-)

Sensei has promised that tonight's class will be a mild one --- thank God.  Right now, I'm also thanking God for chocolate (I made a Chocolate Trifle for the Saturday night potluck and it turned out to be absolutely delicious), red wine, hot baths and massages I was fortunate enough to imbibe in last night, post-Gasshuku.  I am just as thankful that my co-worker had some Ibuprofen on her and am now totally looking forward to some well-earned sushi after class tonight --- you better believe it!

---

Favourite soundbytes of the weekend...

Me:  (not used to practicing with a light Bokken)  "Just a sec, Matt, I need to get a heavier Bokken."
Reichert Sensei:  (to Matt) "Uh oh, she's bringing out the heavier weapon --- now what does that say about *you*?"
Matt:  "No, more importantly, what does that say about *her*?"

Craig from the other dojo:  (after his round of Randori, post-lunch)  "I shouldn't have gone for the Beef and Barley soup."
Hay Sensei:  (later)  "Now what fundamental things have you learned about Randori?"
Me:  "...not to have Beef and Barley soup beforehand?"

Me:  "Where did you and Garry end up going for lunch?"
Ken:  "McDonald's.  I had a Big Mac."
Me:  "That was a bad idea, man.  Bad idea."
Ken:  (not too long into practice afterwards)  "Ugghhhh..."
Me:  (to Garry, as we're practicing together afterwards)  "You better keep that Filet 'o Fish down, man."

Sensei:  (throwing Jeremy during the demonstration)  "Eek!  He got caught in my skirt!"]]></body>
	<date>02-20-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2500">
	<title><![CDATA[The Best Valentine's Day, Ever.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I don't know about you, but I spent my Valentine's Day on my back.  :-P  Literally.

We did more diverolls last night.  I think Sensei was wanting to see where we're at with these, since the Gasshuku and demonstration is coming up this weekend.  We started with two-person diverolls and worked our way up to four.  Up to this point, I had only ever tried and successfully completed diving over three (envision, if you can, that the victims --- er, ukes --- are side-by-side on their knees).  So the time comes to do four and naturally, I just *have* to try it.  

On the first try, I snag myself on the person on the end and land straight, flat and excruciatingly hard on my back.  Man, did I ever wang it bad.  Groaning in agony, I force myself up, eyes watering in pain.  The guys are staring, concerned.  Sensei and I both tell them to continue.  

When my turn rolls around again, I hesitate for only a moment to take a deep breath and prepare.  I wasn't about to let it end like that.  I took a fast, running start and cleared all four with seeming ease.  Coming out of the roll, I shoot my fists up into the air in silent joy at the success that I had just paid for, tenfold.  

Believe me, I had to dig deep for that one and my back hurts like a SOB today, but it was worth it.  I was going to do it even if it killed me.  Afterwards, Sensei remarked that to be fair, were the majority of the other guys (who are upwards of 6' tall) made to deal with a distance proportional to them, they would have to diveroll over eight people to equal my four.  To steal a phrase from a fellow Aikidoka friend, four-person diverolls can lick my sweaty gi pants.]]></body>
	<date>02-15-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2421">
	<title><![CDATA[Randori Love]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For some stupid reason (and despite all my usual best efforts to work around my attackers) I ended up boxed in a corner during my round of four-attacker randori last night --- with a guy simultaneously grabbing me from each side and Ken grabbing in a choke hold from behind, I thought for sure I was doomed...

But it's amazing what some strategically-placed atemi can do. You see, when you grab like that, you leave open some very easy targets (especially if you're a guy). So with a couple of swift kicks, I rang some bells before throwing Ken over my shoulder. Three attackers down for the count. Of course, just as I was about to "kick" him too, Sensei called an end to my round (spoilsport) and I walked off the mats to enjoy come congrats from my sempais. ;-)]]></body>
	<date>01-12-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2405">
	<title><![CDATA[Sankyu (and 2005) - A Retrospective and Goals for]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's that time of year again for a look at my Aikido training, both "Omote" and "Ura", so to speak.  

(Pics from the last seminar, by the way, can finally be viewed at:  http://photobucket.com/albums/v383/tomoe_gozen/Kawahara%20Seminar%20Nov%202005/ --- the password is "showme").

Things learned since Yonkyu...

About movement and the art:

- Although having the opportunity to instruct others a little over the past year has been quite valuable (insofar as learning and developing different ways of explaining things), I am far more interested in training.  I've heard enough from senior practitioners who have expressed disatisfaction at their own development, which would often take the backburner to teaching others and certainly don't look forward to this happening to me.  

- Some of the most valuable lessons I've been learning have been as Uke --- I've grown more sensitive to how good technique on the part of Nage effects my centre through adequate tension and have been taking pains to replicate it as much as possible.

- Learning technique has evolved for me from what was initially about form towards being more about feel --- my increasing self-dissatisfaction with how things feel as I move has driven me to seek a smoothness, flow and efficiency to what I'm doing.  I've joked before (only half-facetiously) that the only real difference lies in that now I can discern exactly how badly I suck.  This really isn't as bad as it sounds.  I never want to get to the point where I feel that I've "arrived" somehow --- I constantly want to keep growing and pushing myself and my own self-conceived limits towards excellence and self-mastery.  Only time will tell as to how successful this will be.


About me:

- If I believe I can do it, I can.

About...stuff:

- That the elusive three-person diveroll can indeed be conquered.

- "I've learned that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard --- because if it isn't there, then I never really lost it to begin with."  --- wise words from Dorothy Gale, "The Wizard of Oz"

Things (of many) that I'm working on improving in the coming year:

- building greater core strength

- strengthening my grip

- making my ushiro ukemi consistently rounder and faster

- applying my friend's gymnastics tips so as to get my dive rolls both higher and longer

- increasing the speed and power of my weapons work

---

So what have I learned so far?

- The power of prayer.  That with faith, one can achieve anything.

- That I have been greatly blessed, both on and off the mat, and that I never want to take it for granted.

[Last year...

- To listen to my body. That if a technique feels awkward or I feel even slightly off balance, I'm doing something incorrectly and need to make an adjustment.

- To have faith in myself. I can get carried away by feelings of self-doubt, and I keep forgetting that inherently, my body knows how to move (as alluded to above) and what to do if I just listen to it.

- To breathe. I mean, really breathe --- to pay attention to my breathing, which is not only relaxing, but gets me completely centred and focused in the moment.

- That it's not about perfection --- it's about who and where I am right now. And that in itself is pretty darn awesome. I always keep looking back, thinking, "it could have been so much better" --- and really, it always could be. But you know what? It's a long haul, but it *will* only get better. (Thanks Carolynne!)"] 

---

Stats/Little Milestones as of 11/28/05 (* - denotes change since last tally at Yonkyu): 

Training w/current dojo since - January 8, 2003

*Number of classes attended - 554

*Number of days extra training on the weekend - 9+?

*Number of seminars attended - 5

*Number of other dojos visited while travelling - 6

*Number of classes at other dojos as visitor - 6 

*Total number of hours training - approx. 1108

*Number of journal entries - 195

*Number of hours of remedial massage - 6.5

*Number of visits to the physiotherapist - 4

*Number of neoprene/Tensor joint braces accumulated - 6

Number of weapons broken - 1

*Number of times I've been hit on the head by a weapon - 2

*Number of fat, bloody lips (received from Sensei's atemi) - 4

*Total number of joint sprains (ankles, big toe, wrist --- and now thumbs, oh joy!) - 12

Number of bloody noses - 1.0 

Number of huge, freaky bruises accumulated - innumerable

Number of times my massive Yonkyo bruises freaked someone out - 2

*Number of times large clumps of hair have been accidentally wrenched out of my ponytail by Nage - 2

*Number of rolls of athletic tape consumed - 3.5

*Number of Salonpas patches consumed - 13

*Number of pounds of Epsom Salts used to soak in hot baths - 6

*Number of patches sewn and other repairs to dogi - 8

*Number of Kohai gained - 12! (as opposed to just one -Ken- last year)

*Number of other females who joined the dojo briefly and left - 4 *sniff* :0(  

*Number of other females who joined the dojo and have stayed - 1 (Lisa) *yay!*  :-D

*Largest number of diveroll ukes successfully cleared - 3 (wheee!)

*Largest number of simultaneous Randori attackers successfully faced - 5 (!) *does a little happy dance*]]></body>
	<date>01-04-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2290">
	<title><![CDATA[Troubleshooting Sankyo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Undoubtedly due to the huge influx of snow we got, Tuesday night was an unusually small class (funny though, this used to be the average class size...ah, good times.)  These days, you get to really cherish those opportunities to have all that mat space in which you don't have to constrict either your ukemi or nagemi...not to mention getting all that extra attention from Sensei.

Which is just fine, considering I'd been having a hell of a time with Ushiro Ryokatadori Sankyo.  Which just so happens to be a test technique, lucky me.  The actual Sankyo itself just didn't feel under control --- we even tried it with me using both hands, to no avail.  From the get-go, I felt like doing it with someone much taller (like Sempai Jeremy) had me at a disadvantage since I was putting it on using just my shoulder --- it was as though with the height difference, it just wasn't strong enough; as though I would have to torque and push upwards with my shoulder at the same time (which I experimented with, but no luck) just to get the leverage I needed.

It wasn't until Sensei attempted to do the technique while trying to simulate my height that he was able to fully understand the problem I was having.  He too felt Jeremy's hand slip out and thus lessen the torque, which made me feel a little less frustrated about the problem.  The solution he eventually came up with was (as with many things I'm finding these days) a matter of feel.  I would have to step back and feel a bend in uke's wrist prior to turning to put Sankyo on in order for it to be effective.  Can't help but love Sensei for that.

When I think about it all, on the one hand I feel rather pleased that I'm at the point where I can actually feel when a technique is not working as well as it could.  So great --- over time, I've developed a better sense of how my own and uke's movement feels to the extent of knowing whether or not what I'm doing is effective and if it can be done with better smoothness and efficiency.  In other words, I know when I suck.  Wonderful.  On the other hand, it remains a source of endless frustration that it still seems as though --- because of my size and thus having to adapt each technique so much down to the smallest of details --- I have to work ten times harder than anyone else on the mats just to accomplish the same bloody thing.  But then, I also know that I expect far more of myself than anyone else does.  Oh well.

In other news, the seminar with Kawahara Sensei approacheth.  It'll be in Saskatoon during the weekend of the 26th.  Which means just two more mock tests to go, including tonight's.  Sankyu ETA 9 days.  *squeee!!!*  And to top it all off, we've never had this many folks from the dojo come out to a seminar before (it'll be around a dozen).  Heck, we've never had this many folks in the club before.  Should be a blast!]]></body>
	<date>11-17-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2216">
	<title><![CDATA[A New Addiction]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Just when I thought Randori would be my be-all, end-all fave thing to do, along came Sticky Hands, and then freestyle Jo waza...and then just when I thought that there would be nothing better (ha!), naturally something new has come along to not only challenge me even more but be *hella* fun in the process.  

Last night, Sensei got us to incorporate counterattack combos into our Tae Sabaki one-on-one work, and...wow.  The object is to better develop the ability to see openings based upon your uke's reactions to your deflections and counters and particularly to perform these counters in a successive and most of all, flowing fashion.  It's a lot like a moving, improvisational puzzle --- and I *love* puzzles.  I know he asked us to come up with three counterattacks, but --- I know, I know...overachiever that I am --- I pushed myself to do four or five as much as possible.  :-D  I can't wait until this (and everything else I've listed above) becomes reflexive.  I know it's got to happen eventually, the more and more we do them.  And I am so lovin' every minute of it.

]]></body>
	<date>10-25-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2178">
	<title><![CDATA[NWA Top Ten List]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This came about when, on my break at work yesterday, I
looked down and realized that I was walking around
holding my wallet and water bottle like I was gripping
a bokken.  :-P  

You know you're a Hardcore Student of the North
Winnipeg Aikikai when:

10.  ...the Aikido dreams start.

9.  ...you find yourself with an irresistible urge to
bow every time you enter or exit a room.

8.  ...the smell of rancid sweat has become oddly
unnoticeable to you.

7.  ...you immediately stop what you're doing and sit
down whenever you hear someone clap their hands.

6.  ...you feel like doing Yonkyo anytime someone
reaches to give you a handshake.

5.  ..."Clear as mud?" has worked its way into your
oft-used expressions.

4.  ...you no longer grip anything with your index
fingers.

3.  ...you wear athletic tape and/or Neoprene braces
so often, they're practically fashion accessories.

2.  ...you don't own a pet but somehow always
mysteriously end up with all this grey cat hair on
your clothing.

1.  ...getting hit in the face is no longer a surprise
--- it's expected.]]></body>
	<date>10-12-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2175">
	<title><![CDATA[Precious Little Things]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Friday, October 7th, 2005:
Dive Roll Pariah no more, baby.  After sucking up my fear of falling on someone and injuring them (particularly Garry), I finally managed a three-person dive roll!  After which, I started wondering what the heck it was that kept me from doing it in the first place (fear of falling on someone and injuring them --- particularly Garry :-P) and felt sad that we didn't do more.  Wheeee!

Sunday, October 9th, 2005:
Beat at my new makiwara board until my skinned knuckles bled.  Alot.  Don't ask.  I'm already getting tons of quizzical looks from the guys at the dojo.  Heh.]]></body>
	<date>10-11-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2141">
	<title><![CDATA[Grace and Power]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...if or when I find a happy medium between both, I will be --- to put it mildly ---simply ecstatic.

I get a lot of folks telling me how graceful I look on the mats, but from what I can feel, it's all form and no function.  Maybe that's exaggerating things a bit --- it's not all that bad --- but I'm still not satisfied.  Thankfully, my ukemi (particularly breakfalling) has been improving a great deal lately so it's not like I'm completely bummed out about where I'm at right now.  I'm feeling a great deal lighter, which I can either attribute to: looking at nage all the way through the fall, or certain wonderous circumstances in my life as of late that have made me feel...shall we say...like I can fly.  :-)

Whatever the case, training these days is copacetic.  I'm out every day, going at 100% and my energy levels are good.  Even my last in-class practice test went pretty darn well.  But still...the holy grail of balance between grace and power eludes me.

Perhaps once my Aikido feels to you like you're getting hit in the mouth by a sugar-coated brick, then I'll be perfectly happy.  ;-)  ]]></body>
	<date>09-30-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2107">
	<title><![CDATA[Wing Chun and Aikido - Continued...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So I just had my second class yesterday.  I seem to be picking things up pretty quickly, comparatively...but then, after Aikido, just about *anything* seems easy.  :-P

Among the "cognate" principles/underlying similarities to Aikido that I have been finding include Wing Chun's:

- "immovable elbows" (keeping one's elbows down)
- reliance upon breath for power (kokyu)
- staying relaxed
- "bridge" ("unbendable arm")
- trapping the opponent's joints
- blending/deflecting instead of blocking strikes
- protecting the centreline

Differences between the two that I foresee having difficulties with:

- not using one's hips for power (so as to not telegraph one's strikes)
- a closed, square stance instead of hanmi (ironically, both arts claim similar premise to back up why their stance is more martially-effective compared to the other; Wing Chun's claim is that the one-foot-forward fencing stance with an arm extended leaves one susceptible to trapping, whereas Aikido's is that it leaves less openings)
- my Wing Chun instructor's penchant for telling his students to tap into their emotions --- particularly their rage, their "dark side" for power --- something I would prefer not to do; but then, I'm also Aiki-biased.  That or I've watched too many samurai movies and would rather leave emotions out of combat as much as possible...   

As for whatever bad habits I might accumulate out of my little experiment in cross-training --- that still remains to be seen.]]></body>
	<date>09-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2090">
	<title><![CDATA[Wing Chun and Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So...I signed up for a Wing Chun Do Kung Fu class at the university recently and just had my first lesson yesterday.

I'd been looking forward to seeing what it's like --- if only as a good complement to Aikido --- but naturally won't be doing the Thursdays (which would take away from my time at NWA).  Sensei's jealous enough about it as it is.  :-D  I did, however, have some bad feelings about it...after signing up, I saw a poster in which the Wing Chun instructor claims he is "Third Generation Bruce Lee" and posts a picture of himself with his former instructor next to a picture of his instructor with Bruce Lee.  Not only is this tacky on it's own, but what makes it even cheesier (and more dubious) is that the second picture is obviously a very badly doctored image in which he combined two separate graphics of Bruce Lee and his own teacher.  The pixellation and different resolutions are a dead giveaway.  I mean, come on.  The graphics editor in me was reeling.  The martial artist in me was quite apprehensive, to say the least.

But I was pleasantly surprised.  Though warming up by kicking a hacky sack around and bowing to a Bruce Lee poster were...singularly unique experiences.  The instructor, aside from looking like a club bouncer, seems to be able to explain things in fairly good detail (though I found some of the language he used had a predominantly militaristic tone to it).  Aside from the awkward differences in stance and movement (especially the footwork --- striding forward with the toes of one foot pointed inward feels just plain weird, after all --- and some deflections) that will take a fair amount of getting used to, Wing Chun seems just as I had expected it to be --- an art based on many of the very same principles as Aikido, only applied and described in different ways.  There is a focus on one's centreline, balance, adaptation to differently-sized opponents and redirection of energy --- so much so that a lot of the instructor's movements often mimicked what we've already been doing in class on Monday nights.  I couldn't help but smile.  

Will keep y'all posted...]]></body>
	<date>09-12-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2064">
	<title><![CDATA[Just for laughs]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[http://www.aikidoferret.com/

"Ferrets don't like knives," --- wise words from Itachi, the Aikido Ferret]]></body>
	<date>08-30-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2055">
	<title><![CDATA[Sempai Jamie & Reverse-Engineering Technique, Revi]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, folks come and go --- such is the way of dojos, they say.  Sempai Jim has left for London, ON to do a Post-Doc internship for a year, my other Sempais have been away for most of the Summer and to top it all off (as I've alluded in a previous post) we've had quite a few new students join up lately.

As a result, I've been Sensei's demo uke a fair amount over the past few months for both the kids' and adult classes, which in itself is always an interesting experience.  For one, all this extra "output" of energy has resulted in my losing weight (or so folks have noticed --- as I had not)...for those of you who have seen me, this can be a freakishly scary concept considering I'm practically a stick as it is.  I'm also trying desperately to gain weight so as to finally be able to reach the minimum allowable weight at which one can donate blood.  Though my "output" of energy has increased, my "input" in terms of meals hasn't very much so as we speak, I'm working to increase my caloric intake quite a bit. 

I'm also wanting to start doing a bit of conditioning, particularly in the core area, as well as take some Wing Chun Kung Fu in order to supplement my Aikido abilities wherever possible --- but I'll have to save that for another journal entry.

Right now, I'm slowly settling into a Sempai role, which is strange and yet gratifying in the sense of being able to share one's experience and enthusiasm about Aikido with other women.  It's not something I had much exposure to until now, and I hope that whatever I happen to exemplify (even if it is "to serve as a warning to others" as to what NOT to do) is helpful.

Also, as Sensei's uke, I'm encountering having to learn new techniques and exchanges from a physical, receiving-end perspective (because I'm helping demonstrate instead of being able to view the exchange as a third-party like I normally might).  Afterwards, because we have so many newbies on the mats, I am generally called upon to be "the partner who knows what the heck we're doing", which makes things extra challenging.  But comparatively, I think I'm not doing too bad.  More often than not, I'm able to get the gist of an exchange without having to ask Sensei if I can see the technique demonstrated for me like many of my Sempais do (yay me), though naturally Sensei will often nitpick about the details (which is fine, considering a) it's his job and b) of course I want to improve).

What is particularly awesome about taking ukemi from Sensei so much (aside from being able to practice ukemi more often) is that I really get to feel the effectiveness of the technique (and HOW!  I mean, this is *Sensei* we're talkin' about.  ;-) over and over again...it's a lot like reverse-engineering, when you think about it.  Instead of seeing the movements, I am forced into feeling the end result of them.  For lack of a better (or more enthusiastic, or intelligent, for that matter) thing to say:  VERY.  COOL.  ]]></body>
	<date>08-25-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1989">
	<title><![CDATA[Oh, for heaven's sake.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After helping out with the kids', Sensei ran me through my test again during regular class.  All I can say is, "what the hell is wrong with me?"  I completely blank out on Shomenuchi Sankyo (!), for crying out loud!  Sigh.  

Once *that* fiasco was over, I got to work on the second version of Tsuki Koshinage (since I only knew how do the first, direct entry, version during the test run-through).  And for the record, despite what Sensei seems to believe, I had NEVER learned the second version in class before AT ALL.  So there.  If he's mixing me up with Garry or Jim, don't even get me started.  :-P

And about my Randori lately, a note to self:
Just...
Move faster.
Hit harder.
Aim lower.
...already!  And for the love of Pete, you better come up with some better moves than the same old, same old.  Sheesh!  

Since there is no "Highly Dissatisfied with One's Technique" option under Mood, "Disgusted" will have to do.]]></body>
	<date>07-27-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1932">
	<title><![CDATA[Less talk, more practice]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...is exactly how I would describe my training these days.

Hmm --- I keep forgetting to mention that Sensei ran me through my Sankyu test when he got back from his little sabbatical...well, seeing as I was trying to wing most of it (hehe) --- particularly Ushiro Ryokatadori Ikkyo, it was high on the practice priority list.  Trying to emulate the correct body positioning in relation to uke after the tenkan was quite frustrating, but I ended up getting the hang of it after dedicating a couple of nights specifically to this one technique (of which I also have to do Nikkyo, Sankyo, and Yonkyo for the test).  Thank goodness it's not so much of a bane anymore!  I thought I'd never learn it.  

What is definitely a pain in the butt (instead of the nerve - Ha.  Ha. ) is my blasted one-sided Yonkyo.  It's strange because when I do it (dropping my weight down) on my left hand, it's pretty sharp --- but when I try it with my right (my dominant hand/arm) it's weak.  My practice partners thus far have ascertained that for some reason, I hold their wrist slightly differently when attempting the latter pin.  Sensei also believes that I bend my right wrist instead of keeping it straight.  Go figure.  The amusing thing is that Sensei complains about his apparently one-sided Kotegaeshi...no, Sensei, it's painful no matter which way you do it.  :-P

The kids are still practicing with us earlier in the night, and I've been helping out with them for the most part.  Practice/learning-wise, they seem to be doing all right with the exception of disciplinary flare-ups here and there (ie. running around on the mats before/after class and being excessively loud in the changeroom during the adult class); their ukemi is also progressing pretty slowly, which rather limits the number of techniques they are able to practice safely.

An unprecedented occurrance lately has been the recent addition of two other females --- newbies --- making it the first time in NWA's 12-year history that more than two women have ever trained on the mats here at the same time.  It's a nice change (as always), but I'm not holding my breath.  In the short time (almost three years or so) I've been with the dojo now, at least three other women likewise have come and gone.  We'll see how these two fare.  ]]></body>
	<date>07-04-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1897">
	<title><![CDATA[Jo in the Park]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After almost two weeks of non-stop rain, it was with a great deal of joy that we were able to finally do the weapons work in the park that we had been looking forward to for some time.  

Though it was just me, Sempai Jeremy and Sensei, we had a good time of it --- working on all of the kata (13, 22, and 31-step) and some exchanges (the paired 13-step).  At first, it took some time getting used to the (rather unexpected) disorientation that Jeremy and I seemed to experience --- forgetting steps and movements we had done plenty of times before while immersed in a completely new environment --- having to deal with all of the distractions you don't ever have in the dojo:  the glare of the sun, the resistance of the wind, the different feel of the terrain.  After a little bit of time, thankfully, we both got into the groove of things and performed more consistently.  Naturally, the change in environment was no skin off Sensei's nose.  :)

We ended things by doing a bit of empty hand (non-falling) Randori with striking/countering exchanges and sticky-hand/pushing.  Of course, without walls to worry about, this ranged all over the place.

All in all, a wonderful experience --- the cool breeze upon you beats any airconditioning in a stuffy dojo, bar none.  I do hope we do more of this in future, particularly in different kinds of environments in order to become further acclimated to recalling technique, reacting instinctively and adapting to one's surroundings regardless of wherever that might be.]]></body>
	<date>06-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1884">
	<title><![CDATA[Our Reign is Over]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Quote of the Day...
While teaching the kids ukemi and watching as Sempai Jeremy and newbie Dave run through their own ukemi drills:  "So you always want to make sure that you stay nice and round, just like Jeremy and...Jeremy."
---

...Sensei's back tonight.  I think we're all feeling pretty relieved about it, actually.  It'll be good to get back to more of the usual training --- after two weeks of mild stuff, you can really feel it.  It'll also be quite interesting after two weeks of seeing us all adapt and teach (in all our inept and idiosyncratic glory) to see how The Big Man in Charge does it.]]></body>
	<date>06-14-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1873">
	<title><![CDATA[I almost forgot...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Not only are kids super-observant, but they say the darndest things. :)

Christian raises his hand while Tim is demonstrating the opening to Tsuki Kotegaeshi.

"Um, Sensei...do we have to stick our finger out like that?"]]></body>
	<date>06-06-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1870">
	<title><![CDATA[While the Sensei's away...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...the kids will play.  Or something like that.  

Sensei's gone on a two week sabbatical of sorts and in an unprecedented move, we had three nine-year-old boys start training while he's been gone.  So it's been "all hands on deck" so far --- though teaching responsibility was to be split between three Sempai, only two have shown up in the past week, and I ended up being called upon to help pick up the slack.

Needless to say, we've all had to do a fair amount of adapting, breaking basic techniques down into "easier to swallow portions", inventing Aiki-ish games, etc. --- so far over the past few days we've shown them/done:
- the old warm-up and stretches
- simple atemi and ukemi drills
- shikko
- tenkan drills
- katatedori shihonage, katatedori iriminage, ushiroryokata kokyunage (hanmi handachi waza)
- a modified randori where the object is for everyone else to be uke and try to grab the tails of nage's obi
- Jo striking drills

Though I was initially feeling a little apprehensive when asked by Sensei to help lead class while he was away (more insecure about my lack of qualifications, really --- since at the time it seemed that my Sempai would not be available), I certainly don't feel that way about teaching kids.  Not only do I feel so much more at ease (having worked with kids so very much in a voluntary capacity for many years) but ever since they've started, my mind has been positively racing with tons of ideas for ways to teach them Aikido.

From speaking to the guys I do know, however, that if we are to continue teaching kids on a long-term basis, some accommodation will have to be made --- perhaps in the form of a kids' class --- so that our own training does not suffer greatly.  As wonderful and refreshing as it is having kids on the mats (for myself, they have a rather energizing effect) we do have to slow things down considerably --- even moreso than with adult beginners.  Perhaps a weekend kids' class once a week, and one class where we might integrate them with the senior students?  We'll see what Sensei thinks.

I think everyone's wanting to instill more confidence in Sensei that we're able to handle the added pressures inherent with his absence, and most seem to be doing quite well at it so far in taking the responsibility seriously.  We'll see how well we rise to the occasion in the coming week or so before Sensei gets back...]]></body>
	<date>06-05-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1825">
	<title><![CDATA[It's only fun until...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...someone loses an eye.  Or so they say.  I'm sure Sensei would probably concur as well.  Capping off what was otherwise a good class last night, he got poked in the eye by Sascha's tanto during last night's Randori.  It's situations like this during which we're pretty darn glad we take things slowly.  Suffice it to say, we cut class a little short and I spent a few hours after class waiting with him in Urgent Care at the hospital --- he did the same for me not that long ago and I figured it was only good form to reciprocate; thankfully, it's not that bad --- they suspect a minor tear, but it's not the retina (whew!) and he's able to see out of it fine now (after initially seeing double for a while) so he's supposed to see an Opthamologist and take some antibiotics to stave off infection.

Looks like we're on a roll of some kind.  Garry apparently broke his nose when he got elbowed in the face by the newbie during last Friday's class, so he'll be off the mats for the better part of a month to recover.  And of course there's my lovely double rotator cuff/deltoid mishap that I've just started Physio for.  This, coupled with a lot of folks being away for the Summer will undoubtedly mean smaller classes for the next couple of months.

---

Been working more on Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage and have been trying to get used to the more "static" version of it, after having been so used to the more dynamic, leading version.  I'm beginning to wonder if my seeming-ease with the latter versions of techniques is based primarily in finding it easier to blend, feel uke's energy, and arrange timing better --- the less dynamic versions always feel so laboured to me, but then it could also be simply that we haven't practiced these as much.]]></body>
	<date>05-18-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1809">
	<title><![CDATA[The Gift]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Despite the injury (and others' advice to stop training for a while), I've continued going to class regularly and other than experiencing some soreness now and then, have no regrets about this decision.  Though I'm taking certain techniques and some ukemi easy (that which would normally strain my shoulders), I've been finding the overall experience quite valuable in numerous ways.

To begin with, over the past few weeks, we've had a couple of visiting Yudansha as well as some newbies drop by and as I've written before, training with the latter has always helped to draw attention to fundamentals which one might not normally focus on.  This hasn't changed in the least.  I've found, however, that my own focus when training with the former has changed over time.  It used to be that I would primarily view training with Yudansha as an opportunity to glean a broader perspective of different methods of performing technique; though I still find this valuable, lately, I've been more and more interested in those challenges that present themselves which are associated with that person's body-type --- namely, the opportunity to adapt to much larger ukes (as was the case with one particularly large, male Yudansha who visited in the recent past).  

Most of all, I've more recently been finding myself forced (in a rather painful fashion) to really focus on (in those techniques which call for it) keeping my arms with my centreline --- in essence, using my hips for power  instead of my arms.  While I admit that I undoubtedly am still quite inept at doing this consistently, these days, there is simply little choice *but* to move in a more efficient way without straining my shoulders badly (a no-no, considering that I'm still recovering and have just started physiotherapy).  This became quite clear last night as we spent a great deal of time on various Kokyunage.

To sum up, I've been looking upon all these things as a gift to my training and am quite happy to see that for the most part (injury aside) my Randori has certainly not suffered for it.  :)]]></body>
	<date>05-12-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1692">
	<title><![CDATA[Nikkyo Gone Terribly, Horribly Wrong]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[You know one of those days when you just feel completely in the groove?  It seems like time slows down just for you, because it's like things are flowing perfectly --- you're moving in just the right way and at just the right times that it's as though you've set up your ukes to take their falls just at those ideal, split-second-window-of-opportunity moments that make them impede each other...these are the moments we train for, those moments of pure, unadulterated bliss when you're flying high and you don't think anything could possibly bring you down.  *sigh*  

Well, it was a beautiful randori up until that point.  

Ken came at me Ryokatadori (double shoulder grab) and I *tried* to reciprocate with a double Nikkyo...in retrospect (while waiting for three hours in Urgent Care at the hospital) I figured that I could have done a number of other things that would have been better --- particularly a technique that, when done improperly, would not cause me to drop my weight right on my locked arms, thus spraining both my own rotator cuffs rather badly.  I could have done the throw where you cut the elbow down while simultaneously lifting uke's other elbow.  I could have done the throw where you irimi and go for the guy's face/throat.  But noooooooo...

Suffice it to say, I'll be sitting on the bag tonight and possibly for a few subsequent nights until these puppies heal up.  :-P]]></body>
	<date>04-14-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1611">
	<title><![CDATA[Ushiro Ryokatadori Nikkyo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...is (among many things) the new bane of my Aiki-existence.  Naturally, this one is going to be on the Sankyu test. 

Actually, it's not that bad...after at least a few dozen reps, I *finally* started stepping to the side of uke (and not behind) like I'm supposed to.  :-P  Gak!  Other areas I need to work on include:
- thrusting my arms up and back more as a means of distracting uke
- once I've got uke's arm down, to raise my body up instead of pushing down on his arm on the way up

And this is just for Omote...I haven't even had a chance to work on Ura yet.  *sigh*]]></body>
	<date>03-23-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1603">
	<title><![CDATA[Elasticity of Mind and Body]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Quote of the Day:
(A bit of context first --- Ken was telling me about this guy who invented what I've taken to calling "Cat Fu", this form of Kung Fu with scratching strikes in it after seeing his cat fight in his backyard.)
Heard while sparring...
Ken:  "Hiss!"
Me:  "Hiss!"
---

We culminated the Tae Sabaki portion of class tonight with the closest thing to sparring we've done yet.  After the usual, more structured exercises in countering atemi, we were told to put these together and randomly exchange blows slowly and either evade, block and counter these.  Apparently, we'll be doing this more often and thank goodness --- because it's a heck of a lot of fun.  I'm really loving the practice not only with blending with strikes, but also getting the opportunity reacting to spontaneous attacks.  Both the challenge and the key to it is to be able to do this proficiently in a relaxed manner without tensing up.  This, of course, only comes with practice.  I think that gradually, if we keep this up, I'll be getting to improve in the areas of timing and improvising in response to whatever happens to be thrown at me.

Well, at least one can only hope.  :-P]]></body>
	<date>03-22-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1595">
	<title><![CDATA[Tossing Midgets]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA["Gah!  He cut my butt!  I hate it when that happens."  --- Sensei, without a doubt, wins the Randori Soundbyte of the Day

...with as a close runner-up, some commentary from the sidelines:

Jeremy:  (Observing the duct-taped Randori boundaries,) "It's kind of like Thunderdome." 
Sascha:  "Two man enter --- one man leave!"
---  

Well, I watched the video.  And...
You know...it never really occured to me before, but man --- am I ever *tiny* compared to everyone else in the dojo!  (Well, other than 8-year old Matthew, but uh...)  No, really.  People would have to remind me.  

I guess this could be due to one of a couple of things --- because:
a) when you're in the middle of actually doing technique and stuff, you're just so pre-occupied with it that nothing else matters, and
b) duh, the guys just don't look so big all up-close (especially when they're on the receiving end of a good Yonkyo, as Sascha surely would attest when got him real good a few times the other night *chuckle*)

Well, it's funny --- it's like watching this little kid scooting around all over the mats.  :-P  But anyhoo.  Yeah.  

After watching the video a couple of times, I realized that those rounds of Randori where Sensei would complain that I wasn't doing tenkan enough --- I was getting mostly Yokomenuchi attacks!  Sheesh!  No wonder.  I mean, come on.

So from now on, I'm going to make a point of asking the guys to attack me with less classical atemi and more realistically (which Sempai Jeremy once noted trying to do), because unless it's with a knife, who's going to use a Yokomenuchi strike on the street?  Practice against attempts to get me into a headlock, shoulder grabs, tsuki, even wrist grabs would be more useful to me.

Will continue to note more comments and observations on the video later, once I've finished obsessing over it some more.  :-)  ]]></body>
	<date>03-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1594">
	<title><![CDATA[Hurtin' and lovin' it]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The pain is good.  It reminds me that I'm still alive.  You wouldn't think that a person would need reminding, but I do.

Last night saw my Kohai Ken back on the mats after a half month's hiatus, as well as a total of six of us "old hands" out for class, which made Jo practice a little more fast-paced.  In other words, we worked on multiple exchanges straight through instead of Sensei having to break them down into one-two step exchanges for simplicity's sake had we newbies on the mats.  Not that we don't appreciate newbies --- it's just a nice change to be able to challenge yourself in terms of putting it all together as smoothly (or in my case, not-so-smoothly) as possible.

Sensei taped the whole class (Randori included) plus each of us doing the 13-step Jo kata on our own.  Funny how having an audience --- even one as seemingly-passive as a video camera --- can make folks so nervous.  After watching my Sempais all rush through the kata in an obviously nervous fashion, I turned to Garry and whispered, "Remind me to slow down."  Yeesh.  And breathe, while I'm at it.

Worked on test techniques --- in my case, it was Morotaedori Iriminage, which I keep getting mixed up with the one Morotaedori Iriminage we used to do that seemed to be more on a linear plane.  (No, really.  I could have sworn this is the way we did it for Yonkyu.)  Needless to say, this one's different:  you lead uke by dipping down and the raising of the arm into Iriminage is at the edge of uke's strength --- more along your own centreline (or in my case, just past it to lead further).  Gak.  As always, it's easier said than done.  :-P]]></body>
	<date>03-18-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1586">
	<title><![CDATA[Et tu, Bruté?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In belated commemoration of The Ides of March, we did a fair amount of Tanto Randori tonight.  Heehee --- just kidding (about The Ides of March part, that is).  We did indeed do a few rounds of Tanto Randori each while Sensei videotaped us.  Gak!  I'm starting to think that the camera may very well be a kind of Brutus to me...friend or foe, or a bit of both?

Well, the idea is that we'll be passing around a copy to view and take a closer look at what we've been doing.  Naturally, this is in the hopes of catching things from a different perspective.  There are undoubtedly a great many interesting aspects which you miss while you're nage and you're in the thick of it and you've got three guys on you at once and you're backed into a corner and suddenly the duct tape boundaries Sensei has lain down on the mats to limit your movement make you feel like you're in a really stuffy closet and the knives just keep coming and coming and suddenly, they're everywhere...*Breathe*! 

So, yeah.  Gee.  Can't wait to see how bad things look.  And to remind myself of it by rewinding the tape and playing it back to myself again, and again.  :-P  I'll just keep telling myself that it's that painful process of shedding one's ego in order to make progress.  Yeah --- that sounds good.  So good in fact, that I'm almost convinced. ]]></body>
	<date>03-16-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1583">
	<title><![CDATA[Back in the saddle, yet again]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Back on the mats last night after a week's hiatus due to yet another blasted cold.  Figured that the guys wouldn't appreciate my spreading my germs all over the mats, even if I did start feeling a little better later in the week (better safe than sorry).  Seems that it must be going around, since I wasn't the only one away for a week for the very same reason.  I'm pretty well fed up with these darn things --- I was just saying to folks that I've never had so many colds within such a short period of time.  Normally, I'd get sick maybe twice a year, but I swear --- as of late, it's been more like six times within the past six months.  The theory is that it's stress-related.  Whatever the case, I'm getting it checked out, because this is just crazy.

Mondays are always a good way of easing back into the swing of things since we do a bit of Bokken and Tae Sabaki.  We've also been throwing in (no pun intended) a couple of rounds of Randori at the end, which has been a nice way of mixing things up a little.  Last night, we did it with Tantos...usually, this is the bane of my existence but largely thanks to Sensei's reminders to Tenkan, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.  I think my Randori is actually getting a little better these days, but I know I should shut up about it "before Murphy starts listening".

Poor Sascha got it bad in the solar plexus while being demo uke for Sensei and pretty well doubled over onto the mats --- I've never seen anyone go so red in the face in so short a time before.  Of course, this didn't stop Sempai Tim from having a bit of fun at Sascha's expense later on.  Tim and I we were doing a bit of improvising with one exercise, throwing in different variations (namely, Yonkyo) and having a grand old time of it torturing each other when Tim decides to ask Sensei something while he's throwing Sascha around on the other side of the room.  Of course, we all know that the minute you ask Sensei about something --- good teacher that he is --- he's going to demonstrate it on whoever happens to be close at hand.

So here's Tim with a devilish gleam in his eye asking, "Sensei, you can do Yonkyo with this too, right?", Sensei wailing away at Sascha with one of his infamously painful Yonkyo's and little old me just laughing and laughing.

Ah, good times.]]></body>
	<date>03-15-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1561">
	<title><![CDATA[FINALLY...(the rest of the pics!)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The remainder of the pics from the seminar in Manila with Shigero Sugawara Shihan have been scanned and uploaded --- they can be found under my AikiWeb image gallery at:  http://www.aikiweb.com/gallery/showgallery.php?cat=500&ppuser=2331&password= (although it may take a day or so before the images are approved by AikiWeb site admin).  Share and enjoy!]]></body>
	<date>03-05-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1560">
	<title><![CDATA["In the Zone" - Thurs. March 3rd, 2005]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Remember how Sensei kept saying to me, "less Irimi, more Tenkan"?
Well...who knew that you could actually go through a whole round of Randori pretty well doing Tenkans from one attack to the next?  *Whoa*  :-D]]></body>
	<date>03-05-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1533">
	<title><![CDATA[Feeling Energized:  Mon. Feb. 21 - Thurs. Feb. 24,]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Monday night:

Interesting perspective on Sankyo from Sensei regarding the three planes upon which one creates tension in uke's wrist to perform the technique --- the horizontal (side to side), the diagonal (spiraling up uke's arm) and the vertical (forward).

Wednesday night:

Worked more on Sankyo, this time in Suwari Waza.  I kept forgetting to place my shin between me and the crook of uke's elbow for control before the hand-change.  Sheesh.  My bad.

The test technique I was asked to focus on was Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kaitennage.  Once again, I still need to keep uke low and make sure the force throwing him is more perpendicular to him.

We did a couple of really good rounds of Randori (though I've still got to work on more tenkan than irimi --- what else is new) that left me feeling quite energized.  Love it when that happens.  Water is so darn tasty afterwards.  :-)  I cracked open a nice, juicy organic rambutan (yum) and made myself a lovely stirfry when I got home to treat myself for a change. 

Thursday night:

Sensei really sped things up on the 31-step jo kata tonight --- I don't think I've ever had to do it that fast, but it was a nice challenge.  I started noticing a new bad habit --- cutting corners on the strikes in order to keep up with the pace.  Now, I'm not sure if it's really bad zanshin or whatever or simply trying to flow from one movement to another...hmm.

We did a couple of different types of Kokyunage in a circle tonight (nage in the middle) and in retrospect --- despite having some issues with blurred vision in my left eye --- I found that as nage, I'm getting better at focusing on ukes attacking in succession, as well as maintaining a balanced posture.  At least it feels stable to me.  *keeps fingers crossed*

My test technique to work on tonight was a new on to me:  Ushiro Ryokatadori Ikkyo.  Meet the new bane of my Aiki-existence (yes, I'm aware that it's becoming an ever-increasingly long list these days).  I'm reminded of the "static" Ushiro Ryotekubidori Ikkyo that one has to do for the Gokkyu test, particularly in how nage has to be beside/hip-to-hip with uke (which is precisely my problem thus far).  

After watching Sensei do this a few times, I noticed that (as he mentioned earlier that I need to step to the side first before ducking under uke's arm) he does a kind of backwards sankakyu-no-irimi/triangular entry by stepping to the side and then back *towards* uke (which, since I was not doing this, would explain why I felt like I was too far from uke when I stepped back --- since I was stepping straight back); doing this apparently depends upon uke's energy --- and yet Sensei later told me just to step back and not think about the sidestep.  Gahhh!  

Essentially, Sensei's advice was (since I was forgetting it) to thrust my hands upwards and extend while beside uke just prior to going under his arm so as to not lose control over my own centre during this potentially vulnerable move (there may also be an atemi in the form of an elbow to uke's face just prior for the sake of distraction --- or pleasure, I suppose --- whatever turns your crank ;) ).  Then the rest of the technique is completed by using the force from both your forehead and hand into Ikkyo...I also need to make sure my forward foot is turned outwards and that I am in a stable posture before bringing uke down to the mat completely.

Also of note:  Sempai Jeff came out tonight --- I hadn't seen him in ages (not since just after the last seminar, I believe) so it was, as always, good fun to trade Jo blows with him. ]]></body>
	<date>02-24-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1514">
	<title><![CDATA[A Smackin' Good Time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A non-technical, completely-useless, silly entry for once...just to prove that I do have a personality.  ;-)

For some reason, trying to recall last night's class draws a complete blank in my mind.  All I know is that I woke up today feeling like I had been hit by a truck.  Just about every limb ached like you wouldn't believe.  Must have been some class.  :-D

Naturally, I went back for more tonight.  I wasn't disappointed.  

We did dive rolls for a change of pace and since it was Sensei as the "piggy in the middle" (as we call it), I figured I'd risk trying the higher rolls for a change (since it would often be Garry or Jim in the middle, I was always afraid of falling on them and injuring them).   I actually made it over (woohoo!)...but not without some pretty bumpy landings (gotta extend my arms better) and not without cutting my finger pretty deeply on my own fingernail (for heaven's sake).  And I had just trimmed them too.  Sheesh.

Anyhoo, we practiced mostly defenses from kicks (what is it with Fridays and kicking, anyway?) which is always enjoyably painful.  Despite this, it's good practice with timing, which I happen to like.

The rest of the class was dedicated to a great deal more Randori (with Tanto) than we normally would do in a night.  Usually, we'd only have time for just a couple of rounds each, but tonight we each must have done four rounds.  No complaints there, since I sure as hell need a lot of practice in this area.  I don't know what was up with me, maybe the last dregs of this cold, but I felt a great deal more sluggish than usual.  In any case, we each took turns getting injured tonight and wondered about our luck...foot injuries, mostly --- folks getting pinned or kicked on their way down or while throwing someone down.  Fun stuff as always.  :-)

Now I'm off to have a nice, long, relaxing bath to soothe my aches.  Ahh...   ]]></body>
	<date>02-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1511">
	<title><![CDATA[Random Notes from 02.14 and 02.16.05]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I find myself playing catch-up on these journal entries again, having just started getting over both my jet-lag from the Philippines trip and a cold I caught from my roommate...so here goes.

Monday Night:
Kokyuho - after we practiced this technique at the end of class and I had noticed an interesting explanation that Sensei had offered Garry (to imagine he is pushing his thumbs back over his shoulders), I asked Sensei about the advice given to me by a Yudansha at the Manila seminar --- under what particular circumstances would you use either of these for Kokyuho?  I had already noticed from his demonstration that the "pinkies under the elbows" method would obviously not work for the version of Kokyuho in which uke presses nage's wrists right down onto his lap.  Essentially, Sensei told us that the "pushing the thumbs back" method was what Kawahara Sensei had taught (and it has its origins in Daito Ryu), for the reason that it seems to be the method that consistently works regardless of how uke's hands have grabbed your wrists.  It's good to know; Sensei also encouraged us to experiment with all of the different methods that folks suggest in order to find the way that personally works best for us.

Wednesday Night:  A Taste of Teaching...
In a rather unique move, Sensei put us each on the spot by asking us to explain and/or demonstrate different aspects of the basics of Aikido, that is, the how-to's and why's of: bowing, ukemi, atemi, and Katatedori Shihonage.  Essentially, he wanted to know where we were at and to get a sense of whether we remembered all the details and reasons behind what we do; since, as we were what he considered the six core members of the dojo, we might be called upon to teach in the future.  It was a good experience to be forced to articulate our knowledge and understanding as well as to elaborate on or add any of our own thoughts to those that our classmates may have overlooked.  It's always a challenge to call upon the knowledge that one sense (like touch/feeling) possesses and try to relate it to someone else using alternate means  (as in, for example, teaching someone with a sensory-impairment or simply trying to express verbally something that your body remembers how to do) --- and I always love a good challenge. 

Notes:  Yokomenuchi Shihonage - Sensei recommended that I step wider to the side when receiving uke's strike, which made things considerably easier (by staying further from uke's centre) to control and less cramped. ]]></body>
	<date>02-18-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1507">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido in the Philippines:  Manila Seminar w/Sugaw]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had the great pleasure of meeting and training with some friendly Aikidoka while I was in the Philippines at the "Hombu Instructional Tour" seminar with Shigeru Sugawara Shihan that took place at the Rizal Memorial Sports Complex in Manila and was hosted by Aikido Philippines.  Unfortunately, I was only able to attend one of the five two-hour sessions due to being in Manila on just a day trip and my family's schedule was not conducive to any more than that.  Regardless, it was a great opportunity and a valuable experience nonetheless.

I've uploaded a few pictures of the seminar to my AikiWeb photo gallery (at:  http://www.aikiweb.com/gallery/showgallery.php?cat=500&ppuser=2331&password= ) which were taken by Rommel, the secretary of AikiPhil and will also eventually add to these the pictures that were taken by my dad (which still need to be scanned).  You may also view some of the pics uploaded by AikiPhil at: http://www.photonski.com/makilingaikido/paja05

There were a ton of folks on the mats when I was there on Tuesday morning from 8 to 10am --- my dad counted about 80 (a good mix of Yudansha and Mudansha) and I was told that there would likely be more during the sessions later in the day.  I counted around a dozen female aikidoka, also of a decent mix of ranks, which was likewise nice to see.  But boy, were the mats ever crowded!

Sugawara Sensei (presumably as he's one of the younger --- read:  more flexible -- of the shihans) led the warm-up, which would be the first time I'd ever seen that at a seminar (granted, it's not as though I had been to any other than those with Kawahara Sensei until then...)

On this particular morning, Sugawara Sensei covered mostly a variety of "basics", including:  Shomenuchi Ikkyo, Nikkyo, Sankyo, Kotegaeshi and Shihonage.  Not that I by any means would call myself proficient at evaluating such a thing, but for those who are interested...from what little I did get to see, I suppose I would describe Sugawara Sensei's technique as fast, hard and smooth, with a very upright posture; in other words, quite strong (surprise, surprise) --- judging by the pained grunting of the Filipino Yudansha he would occasionally make the rounds to practice with (another thing I'd never seen happen before at a seminar --- the Shihan coming around to practice). 

Afterwards, the notes to myself I had made regarding certain techniques were:

Nikkyo - (As usual) the hand change needs work to become more fluid without losing contact with uke.

Sankyo - We did the version (which we rarely do at NWA) of omote where you come around to the "head side" of uke and bring him down to the mat backwards; from what I've seen at other dojos, this seems pretty standard and is good practice for me, considering.

Kotegaeshi - Sugawara Sensei drew attention to this being more like a spiral up uke's arm; as well as to tenkan first, block uke at the elbow and then grab the wrist, which leaves more options open to you, ie. Kokyunage (best used against a straight punch and on any other punch where the back of uke's palm is not facing towards you) and Iriminage than if you were to grab the wrist first.

Shihonage - Sugawara Sensei spoke of maintaining one point of contact and tension with uke at all times.

Ryotekubidori Kokyuho (Suwari Waza) - The Yudansha I was paired with advised me to extend my centre and then my arms as though pushing my pinkies underneath uke's elbows, which was a new visualization for Kokyuho to me --- I'd never heard of it before, so into the notes it goes.

A couple of general observations...

- Training in sweltering tropical weather (it was often over 30 degrees Celcius outside) in a dojo with just a few fans running was a new and rather strenuous activity for me, having never really experienced it before (that is, having always done Aikido in Canada for the most part, and in a dojo with air-conditioning)...I mean, birds would fly into the room from outside to escape the heat.  It's not long before you're pretty well soaked in sweat --- certainly challenges your stamina (especially in a heavy-weight dogi) and makes you appreciate your water a great deal afterwards.

- I certainly hope I'm imagining things, but I kind of got the sense that a lot of the male aikidoka were rather reluctant to train with females.  
Essentially, my experience at this particular session (which could simply be coincidence, for all I know) was of having a very difficult time finding a training partner on the vast majority of occasions which in itself would not be so disturbing --- but often, I would be seated or standing right next to a male aikidoka who would also be looking for a training partner, but instead of turning to me, would continue to look elsewhere.  This, coupled with how oftentimes, I would notice a lot of female aikidoka training specifically with other females made me wonder a little.  

Now, it has always been taught to me that good dojo etiquette dictates that after Sensei has finished demonstrating, you should find a partner quickly and get to training right away, which means turning to the person nearest to you and getting to it.  But with only two exceptions, I found that most male aikidoka would try to ignore me and walk away as fast as they could.  I had to be extremely aggressive if I wanted to find a training partner --- in most cases, having to tap the person who was walking away from me on the shoulder to draw very obvious attention to myself.  The two exceptions to this were:  a male Aikidoka from Germany who turned to me right away, and Rommel, the secretary of AikiPhil who I had been corresponding with via e-mail earlier and had noticed that I was having trouble finding someone to train with.

(Just as an aside:  If I were absolutely sure that it was either coincidence or paranoia talking, I wouldn't mention it.  But I also know I can't be completely off-base about this in part because of the general stereotypes and prejudices that I'm fully aware that a lot of Filipinas still face in their native country today --- both from my own experience and from the experience of other Filipinas I know --- particularly due to traditional Filipino attitudes; I won't go into detail about these at this particular juncture, but if you're wishing to discuss it, please feel free to message me.)  But enough bitching about it for now.  :-P

Another interesting thing that came to mind:
- Training solely with aikidoka who, as in the Philippines, generally share a very similar average physique and height raises the question of whether or not one's Aikido settles into being able to effectively react only to ukes of this kind.  I feel fortunate, living in a multicultural community in Canada, to have the opportunity to expose my Aikido to a wide range of ukes with varying body types throughout the course of my long-term training, thus enabling me to practice quite often how to feel and adapt to different kinds of energy and movement. 

Despite the minor things, it was a great time and above all, quality instruction (and at just 60 PHP/ 1US a session, you can't beat that).  From conversations I had prior to class, roughly 30 different dojos from around the area were represented at that particular seminar --- so it looks like Aikido is really thriving there.  I look forward to the possibility of training at one of them if I'm ever back to visit the Philippines in future.  ]]></body>
	<date>02-17-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1430">
	<title><![CDATA[Hating My Own Weakness]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After Jo practice, we started things off with some Hanmi Handachi waza:  Shomenuchi Shihonage.  Some of the finer points I had to add were:  not sweeping outward to catch uke's hand (that's for yokomenuchi) but just raising your hands up to do so, and moving more at a 45 degree angle (not 90 degrees/perpendicular) from uke to avoid being within his punching range.

We also spent a great deal of time on Tsuki Ikkyo and once again, it became readily apparent (as it usually does) that as things stand right now, I could never perform this technique on someone bigger and stronger.  Essentially, were someone to really lock their arm out strongly, I would have to resort to a Nikkyo-like pin to move them.  Which is fine.  Whereas I used to be frustrated at not being able to do certain techniques exactly the way most of the guys do, I've learned to accept the fact that I will simply have to adapt a great many of them so that they actually work for me.

I've been working on improving my grip so as to make such things as this (and Sankyo, for example) a lot more effective.  I've also noticed that with some uke's in class I have had a tendency to hold back a fair amount (until Sensei notices and tells me to do something with more force)--- such that if I were to simply torque their limbs just a bit more, I'd have the control over them that is necessary.  Why is this?  Am I so afraid of hurting someone else?  I'm certainly not all that fearful of hurting myself (case in point, just dislocated my thumb tonight taking ukemi for Sempai Jeremy).  

I suppose it shouldn't come as such a big surprise, but I can't believe I haven't realized up until now that as a whole it seems that because of my physical make-up, I am forced to work a great deal harder than a lot of my larger classmates.  They have strength to fall back on in a real-life combat situation, but I have no such saving grace.  (Not that it's necessarily a good thing, but) they can get away with bad technique through muscling it.  Not me.  Nope.  So until that one shining day, when --- or rather, if --- I ever actually get good at this shit, well...I'm screwed.  :-P ]]></body>
	<date>01-20-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1423">
	<title><![CDATA[Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kaitenage & Old-School Shomen]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Kaitenage has officially become the new bane of my Aiki-existence.  As usual, it comes down to maintaining that tension at my point of contact with uke so as to keep control over his centre.  Nothing new there --- just those good old, infuriating details again, such as:
- escaping out of uke's grip by pushing my elbow forward (not pulling)
- keeping pressured contact just above uke's elbow during the sweep downwards
- swinging my leg back during the sweep downwards in order to position myself perpendicular to uke
- pushing down on uke's neck more before the throw if he happens to be bigger and/or more resistant

We did the "old-school" version of Shomenuchi Sankyo in Suwari Waza today, which had (or so we had thought) been deemed unacceptable by Kawahara Shihan prior to my ever testing for Gokkyu and so I had never learned it properly.  It's good that we're finally doing it again, because just about every other dojo I've visited does Sankyo this way and as much as I love standing there, looking clueless on the mats...(don't even think of saying it, friend; don't even think it :-P)  This is the one where you lean your shoulder onto uke's to keep him down and controlled while setting your hands up for Sankyo (though it doesn't help that my arms are always considerably shorter then uke's, making it difficult to do this), bringing it up as your leg swings out, then moving in front of uke and moving backwards while driving him down to the mat before the pin.  Yes, that one.  It's going to take some getting used to, for sure, because right now it just feels plain strange not to be "behind" and to the side of uke while going into the pin.  Oh well.  Practice, practice.

We capped things off not with Randori tonight, but with Morotaedori Kokyunage.  I love Kokyunage.  Short and sweet, just like me (ha!).  Anyhoo, the biggest points to make note of are to keep my arm under uke's during the tenkan so as to lift him up (and forward, not just straight up) as well as (for me) to step forward more to lead bigger ukes.  

Speaking of Kokyunage and Randori, I've been meaning to "study up" on the former for use during the latter as well as incorporate the blocks/deflections we use in Tae Sabaki for the same.  It's been in the back of my mind for ages, so it's high time I dusted the concepts off and actually applied them, huh? ]]></body>
	<date>01-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1414">
	<title><![CDATA[Becoming the Centre (Mon. Jan. 17/Tues. Jan. 18, 2]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Mostly thought fragments today...

Though I'm motivated enough to get out to class every day (and you have to be to do all that walking in Winnipeg Winter weather --- ahh, the joys of not owning a vehicle; the windchill puts hair on yer chest...arr!) I wish I could feel the same about journalling here.  I mean, there's always a great deal to ponder.  I just don't always feel like logging it all.  After awhile, things start feeling like the usual same-old, same-old.

Anyhoo, I'll do my best.  (Though this feels like having your teeth pulled.  I wish I didn't feel so blah about my own Aikido.  That might have something to do with it.  Yes, there's a great deal to be learned and a great deal to write about.  But I guess I'm at this low point where I feel like I want my body to do the thinking for me...I spend so much time being introspective.  I know the merits of it full well.  I wish I could explain this apathy I feel towards writing these days.)
 
We're starting to focus on test techniques again, so I spent the past couple of days on Shomenuchi Nikkyo.  Oh, the usual.  Working on improving timing, that blasted hand turnover (gosh, I hate having such tiny hands --- I do it just fine with Ken as uke, but then he has small hands too), silly little details that make a world of difference.  You know.  Posture.  Maintaining tension on uke's arm.  Stuff.  (See what I mean about this being like pulling teeth?  Gak.)

I did, however, make note of a good point Sensei made when he was helping Ken and Garry with Ikkyo Ura --- wrapping uke around you like a stripe 'round a candy cane (or barber pole); making uke have to move with you.  I was considering this along with other principles like taking uke's place --- thinking of how it's a lot like becoming the centre.  Here you have two independent centres with differing energy that meet and become one --- nage's centre is the one around which everything moves; uke's energy gets sucked into this other and is redirected.  You see it a lot with all the spiralling that happens in nage's movements.  Spiralling downwards, spiralling upwards like a spring or a coil.  Heh.  As always, it sounds so good "on paper".  Trying to actually DO it is another thing entirely.  :-P

I need a break.  (From writing, not Aikido.  Sheesh.)  Thankfully, the next couple weeks or so will provide it, as my family will be heading off to the Philippines again (this time for a real vacation) and I'm planning on attending the seminar in Manila with Sugawara Shihan in early February.  A three day seminar with a hombu shihan for  5US (60 Philippine pesos per session, and there are 5 sessions --- a weekend seminar here in Canada is usually  60CAD)...can't beat that! ]]></body>
	<date>01-19-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1391">
	<title><![CDATA[An Extension of Self (Monday, Jan. 10, 2005)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA["Perhaps women were once so dangerous that they had to have their feet bound."  --- Maxine Hong Kingston, "The Woman Warrior"

I don't know what it is, but it seems that no matter how miserable I get (and I've been feeling mighty miserable lately), so long as you put a sword in my hands, all's right with the world.  I've been walking around like a wraith --- like I'm empty, like I'm lost.  It feels like everything that seemed so simple about living just takes so much effort.  But the only place I come alive is on the mats.  It's like the only thing that feels real.

I find myself not only extending more with my swordwork, but blending more with my opponent's strikes.  Not so much of the clashing blades, the meeting force with force.  But then, I have had to blend so much in life lately that sometimes it feels as though I've forgotten that there is even a force here to begin with.  Is the substance of me fading away?  If so, what will take its place?

They say that a samurai's sword is his soul.  Well, perhaps that's quite a propos.  My own bokken is split and battered, just like me.  But then, (as it was red oak) it was never made of very strong stuff to begin with.  Just like me.  I've since replaced it with a thicker, seemingly-stronger one of hickory.  If only I could replace my soul as easily.  Start over, you know.  But then, someone once told me that we become strongest in the broken places; the places that heal over.  Perhaps, however --- as I said to him in return --- we become so strong in those places that we are then even weaker in others; those places we neglect to strengthen because we are so preoccupied with healing the broken bits.  Even the new bokken, hickory though it may be, is very much like the one before:  with it's thick, crosswise grain, it is bound to break in the same way that the old one did.  Even a new soul would be flawed at its root.  

It is time to accept my flaws and use my knowledge of them to strengthen myself.  If I could forge my soul like a sword, it could never be of pure steel, for I am far from that.  Besides, a blade of purest steel would be extremely brittle.  No, perhaps it would have to be something like a Damascus blade --- forged from a combination of hard and soft steel that has been tirelessly hammered and beaten over and over again until it has become sharp and hard, yet flexible.  Interestingly enough, it is the impurities within that make it both strong and beautiful. ]]></body>
	<date>01-12-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1379">
	<title><![CDATA[Kaitennage (Friday, Jan. 7, 2005)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Upon our return to the dojo (significantly warmer than the night before thanks to Sensei showing up early to fix the insulation on the window), we worked on a couple of variations of Kaitennage, particularly: Ushiro Ryokatadori Kaitennage (Hanmi Handachi Waza) and Shomenuchi Kaitennage.

For the former, I found that extending forward from the very beginning to be quite helpful in maintaining balance and steadiness while being grabbed.  Since there were only four of us on the mats that night, it was one of those fortunate times when Sensei joins in with you consistently on your reps and so I was able to glean a great deal of good advice from him on the latter, Shomenuchi Kaitennage --- particularly:  when grabbing uke at the elbow during the initial tenkan (while keeping own elbow down), lean both forward and down throughout to better take his centre.  This reminded me so much of the same thing I had to do to make my ura's in suwari waza more effective when we were practicing for the last test!  Funny, that.  

The other thing that helped considerably was not to make it a full tenkan (with your feet in hanmi), but to squat down (in almost a horse stance) at the end of your dipping uke downwards --- and then do a tenkan into the throw...which in turn reminded me a great deal of Kotegaeshi!  Funny, that. ]]></body>
	<date>01-08-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1378">
	<title><![CDATA[Frozen Dojo Waza (Thursday, Jan. 6, 2005)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[When we got into the dojo Thursday night, it was even colder than the night before.  So much so, in fact, that you could see your breath.  We were standing in the changeroom with our parkas on and it still felt like we were outside.  Blame it on the wind and the really bad insulation we have on the windows.  Suffice it to say, Sensei wasn't about to let us train under those conditions, so we took our weapons to the room across the hall and did our jo practice in our street clothes to stay warm.

As we worked on kata, it became readily apparent that:
- working in street clothes, though somewhat constricting in jeans, was rather beneficial to see Sensei's form NOT covered up by a hakama for once
and
- albeit warmer, the room we were in was quite small (even for 5 people --- being 5 people swinging weapons around, after all) and there would be plenty of wall-hitting in the process of adapting to its size

Most exciting to me was Sensei's introduction of freestyle partnered jo practice (the first installment of which, I had missed from the week before) --- which is essentially a slow, two-person Randori with jo in which you improvise your attacks and blocks (the precursor to wailing away at each other quickly back and forth with the jo).  It was wonderful to begin to apply our weapons work in a somewhat realistic fashion after having done only kata and structured paired practice up until now.  We came to learn that there are stances and hand positions which are not as advantageous as others, as well as it becoming (rather glaringly) obvious that we need to work more on hand changes --- particularly transitioning from different combinations of offensive and defensive hand positions.

We ended the night with Randori as usual --- tanto evasions, this time.  My atemi to uke's middle needs to be from a greater distance to be most effective and (surprise, surprise) I need to tenkan more than irimi as well as stay in uke's shikkaku/blind spot and maintain hold of uke longer than usual to lead him further. ]]></body>
	<date>01-08-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1372">
	<title><![CDATA[Yonkyu (and 2004) - A retrospective]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Since this is nearly two months overdue, I figure that I may as well,  in addition, combine my usual stats tally with some insights from the past year.

Things learned since Gokkyu...

About movement and the art:

- To let my body do most of the thinking and to trust that it will both react accordingly and "feel" technique instinctively out of habit, necessity and its own memory.
I guess it comes down to the whole "mind of no-mind" thing.  There's no need to over-think technique step-by-step while I'm doing it, just feel it out and my body will do the rest.

- To try to make a habit of feeling the flow of uke's energy and momentum and try to maintain good timing with this.

- When in doubt, squatting low typically solves a lot of leading and balance/stability issues for me.

About me:

- That I can relax pretty well under pressure

- That I can focus in the midst of a great deal of stress and fatigue

- That I really love to push myself beyond my physical and mental limits (but haven't I always known this?)

About...stuff:

- That Koshinage can be conquered

- That truly, the guys at NWA are like brothers to me

- That blood stains are a b*tch to clean out of white cotton.

Things (of many) that I'm working on improving in the coming year:

- strengthening my grip

- making my ushiro ukemi consistently round, fast, and such that my knee never touches at all (on the way to standing up)

- applying my friend's gymnastics tips so as to get my dive rolls both higher and longer

---

(And because a reminder is always useful...)
From the last tally:

"From the very beginning, I've been trying to pay very close attention to detail. Every nuance of Sensei's moves is deliberate, and I need to continue catching the patterns in his movements. Slowly, I feel as though I am piecing together a very intricate puzzle bit by bit...

So what have I learned so far?

- To listen to my body. That if a technique feels awkward or I feel even slightly off balance, I'm doing something incorrectly and need to make an adjustment.

- To have faith in myself. I can get carried away by feelings of self-doubt, and I keep forgetting that inherently, my body knows how to move (as alluded to above) and what to do if I just listen to it.

- To breathe. I mean, really breathe --- to pay attention to my breathing, which is not only relaxing, but gets me completely centred and focused in the moment.

- That it's not about perfection --- it's about who and where I am right now. And that in itself is pretty darn awesome. I always keep looking back, thinking, "it could have been so much better" --- and really, it always could be. But you know what? It's a long haul, but it *will* only get better. (Thanks Carolynne!)" 

---

Stats/Little Milestones as of 11/13/04 (* - denotes change since last tally at Gokkyu): 

Training w/current dojo since - January 8, 2003

*Number of classes - 341

*Number of days extra training on the weekend - 9

*Number of seminars attended - 3

*Number of other dojos visited while travelling - 4

*Number of classes at other dojos as visitor - 4 

*Total number of hours training - approx. 682

*Number of journal entries - 143

*Number of hours of remedial massage - 5.5

*Number of visits to the physiotherapist - 1

*Number of neoprene joint braces accumulated - 3

*Number of weapons broken - 1

*Number of fat, bloody lips (received from Sensei's atemi) - at least 2-3...

*Total number of joint sprains (ankles, big toe, wrist) - 5

*Number of rolls of athletic tape consumed - 2

*Number of Salonpas patches consumed - approx. 10

*Number of pounds of Epsom Salts used to soak in hot baths - 4

*Number of patches sewn and other repairs to dogi - 5

Number of times my massive Yonkyo bruises freaked someone out - 2

Number of bloody noses - 1.0 

*Largest number of diveroll ukes successfully cleared - 2

Number of other females who joined the dojo briefly and left - 3 *sniff* :0(  ]]></body>
	<date>01-06-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1371">
	<title><![CDATA[C-c-c-cold K-k-k-keiko and Koshinage]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had nearly forgotten what it was like to train on ice-like mats.  Though I certainly didn't miss it.  It was another one of those nights where the wind was blowing in such a way outside as to make the dojo freezing cold.  Bigger class than last --- it was pretty much the whole core group out tonight, actually --- like old times, with the exception of Sensei being away for the night.

So Sempai Tim and Jeremy led the class, starting with some Ryokatatedori Shihonage.  While working through my reps, I tried to pay close attention to knowing (with both sight and feel) the tension in uke's arm and his energy so as to ensure that I continually had his centre and was going with his momentum.

Before ending the night with a couple of rounds of Randori, we did a fair amount of work on Shomenuchi Koshinage (which was on the yonkyu test).  Sempai Jeremy passed on something interesting that Sensei mentioned a few weeks ago (which I missed) regarding weight distribution and squatting properly --- that it's more stable to squat down:
- with your weight mostly on your heels (you should be able to lift your toes) and not forward
- as though you're sitting in a chair, (taking care that your knees do not bend such that they are forward past your toes)
Both of these ensure that you are able to support uke's weight with stability and without much (if any) strain on the knees.

I made a point of trying out letting my weight rest back on my heels like that, with consistent success as a result --- which is great, considering Koshinage is practically the bane of my Aiki-existence.  :-P  ]]></body>
	<date>01-06-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1366">
	<title><![CDATA[The Way of the Beat-up Ragdoll]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I figure the other guys must be recouperating, because it was just me, Jim and Sensei out tonight.  The ol' bod feels fine, just a little stiff --- especially behind the legs, though nothing serious.  It wasn't until we did our ukemi warm-up and I started rolling again that I discovered a point on my shoulder that is fairly bruised from bumping it on the mats.  Obviously, I need to work on staying more round with my rolls.  Thanks to fatigue, it made things all the more challenging...Sensei did say yesterday that after a while, problem areas would become more readily apparent.  Ouch.  No kiddin'.

We started out with some Suwari Waza:  Shomenuchi Nikkyo, to be exact.  Funny how the body remembers these things.  It asks no questions.  Okay, so sometimes it asks questions.  And makes really loud statements (usually of protest).  But oftentimes, like this one, it obeys what it knows.  No big corrections on this one other than to remember that with the ura version, bringing uke's arm to my chest with my own is as important as leaning forward towards him.

The rest of the class, we focused on a couple of versions of Morotaedori Iriminage --- the usual one we do with the sweeping, overhand entry and another, "newer" version (well, new to me) that relies upon first leading and then a whip-like motion that starts from the hip, after which you throw with the shoulder instead of bringing your hand over uke to finish.  Areas that could use some fine-tuning include:  
- dipping down during the turn in order to lower/stretch uke out
- staying in uke's shikkaku/blind spot and remembering to deflect larger ukes down to the side (instead of stepping under them/across them as one would with smaller ukes) --- turning my lead foot out should give better leverage for this
- keeping my arm straight and not bent (indicative of the difference between using your hips and using your arm to power it) throughout the overhand sweeping motion
- cutting/leading uke downwards more with my outstretched/lead arm rather than the one at his neck should make it easier
- and specifically with the second version of the technique --- grabbing uke around the neck instead of merely his collar should likewise provide more leverage.  

The three of us worked at a fairly quick pace, so we got lots of reps in tonight.  I swear, taking ukemi for Sensei's Iriminage is better than a carnival ride.  Gotta love being just 100lbs.  He'll grab hold of my neck, and the rest of my body just gets flung around like a ragdoll with the momentum.

As always, we ended things off with some Randori --- freestyle/random, just the way I like it.  The highlight came when Jim dragged me across the mats about five feet (to keep me between him and Sensei, who was the other uke).  See, those are the things you miss.  It's great to be back. ]]></body>
	<date>01-05-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1363">
	<title><![CDATA[A Torturific Welcome Back - New Year's Misogi 2005]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Quote of the Day:  "A rolling student gathers no moss,"  --- Sempai Jeremy

So the prodigal daughter of NWA returns.  And more than likely, it's back for good this time.  I won't go into the whole spiel about "the best laid plans of mice and men".  Suffice it to say that I wanted to make it back into town in time for Misogi day and to surprise the guys.  It's funny, but being back almost feels like I had never left...only family would welcome you with open arms like that, month and a half long hiatus be damned.

This year, we were to do mai ukemi as many times as we were able in ten minutes (so long as we try to do at least 100).  The object was to push our limits as much as we could.  Sensei got us to do it in two different groups to help cheer each other on and to group students who would roll at a similar pace.  Garry and Jim rolled together and they made their goal of 110.  Ken, Jeremy and I went next at a quicker pace set by Sensei's counting.

Ten minutes felt like eternity.  I made a point of inhaling after each roll and exhaling during the roll, which helped considerably to keep me from getting too out of breath.  After the first two and a half minutes without a break, I had pushed myself to do ten extra but paid for it the next time around with severe dizziness --- it doesn't take long before your legs start going all rubbery on you.  After a bit, I found that if I stayed low and squatted deeper at the beginning and end of each roll, I could maintain better stability --- if you tried to get up much further than that, dizziness and fatigue in the legs would make you wobbly.  I just kept focusing on my breathing and staying low and found that I could come up out of the roll in a focused, stable stance quite often.

But well after the halfway point, you found your legs practically useless and would have to push yourself up with your hands to set up for the next roll.  The three of us would practically collapse right onto the mat each time Sensei called a brief break.  During each break, I kept having to shake the strain out of my legs and slap more circulation back into them.  During the last two grueling minutes, we pushed ourselves to get in as many rolls as possible, to the point where your body gets to the point where it stops feeling or rather, knowing how to do a good quality roll --- during the last minute's push, I felt myself rolling all over the place, no longer in the same line as before, scrambling to get up again and again on wobbly legs for another roll, pushing myself up by the arms when I felt I could no longer stand on my own.  I felt my mind giving way to this numb, blank state where there was only physical sensation with little bodily control.  It was as though my mind was flying away somewhere far from my body without me.  Then at the ten minute mark, we all collapsed on the mats in exhaustion, having done just over 150 rolls.  

It was great. ]]></body>
	<date>01-04-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1319">
	<title><![CDATA[Back in the Saddle Again]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, I took the plunge.  I *finally* bloody well picked a new dojo.  After three weeks just getting settled in this city, let's just say that The Year of Hell still isn't over.  

But you know what?  Man, does it ever feel good to be back on the mats again.  Even if it means --- once again --- going through the whole process of looking stupid, feeling like an outsider, tolerating the initial bemused looks that say, "Oh, it's only another girl.  Nothing special."  But I know that's just my good old friends, Pride and Ego, talking.  They'll quiet down soon enough.

Don't get me wrong.  The folks at Portland Aikikai are friendly enough.  I just have enough foresight to know that no matter what, the dynamic will be different.  And how.

At least we did some Randori.  Okay, so it was more like Jiyu Waza.  For just one technique.  With ukes graciously taking turns instead of rushing you at once.  And they rarely do it.  Oh well.  It's something.

I feel like I'm re-learning things again.  Sheesh.  I mean, it's not like this should come as a big surprise.  Every dojo does things differently and this place is no exception.  But what disturbs me is that the thought actually crossed my mind that:  I'll finally feel settled in there once I reach the same level of conformity as everyone else.  Yikes.  What's up with that?  But it's true.  Getting used to a new warm-up.  Getting used to new dojo-specific etiquette.  Getting used to a whole new pecking-order.  If there's anything (and there are many things) that training at different dojos has taught me, it's that we become complacent.  

We let ourselves be satisfied with diligence in a certain environment.  Then once that rug gets pulled out from under you, you have to regain your footing.  It's unnerving at times, but I like the challenge.  I want to get to the point where it doesn't matter how much the ground beneath my feet changes --- I'll be able to both adapt and stay perfectly stable.

I miss the camaraderie I had with the guys at North Winnipeg Aikikai.  Hearing the guys at this place chitchat and laugh together, with a wall separating us is too strange to me.  I guess I have to get used to being considered "one of the girls" now.  It sucks. ]]></body>
	<date>12-16-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1219">
	<title><![CDATA[11.13.04 - The Seminar (to be continued)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[From the moment you step into the Regina dojo, you are imbued with a feeling of lightness.  It has been impeccably designed in Japanese fashion --- from the walls, painted in neutral beige tones, right down to the flawless, cream canvas mats.  There is actually a waiting room for guests (!), a seated viewing area with embroidered cushions on the couches, a tea set on the table, incense and candles burning.  A paper screen facade lines the windows and doors of the change rooms.  
"Nice dojo," says Sempai Jeff.  
"It's cute," I admit, but not without a chuckle.  "Cute."  
Despite all the Zen-simplicity of the decor, I (obviously used to more Spartan digs) cannot help but muse over the irony of its underlying decadence.  You'll find no duct tape covering tears in the mats here.

I open the door to the women’s change room and am in awe.  It may as well have been a courtesan’s boudoir.  There is a futon, wall hangings, bamboo-lined mirror, flowers in a vase on the coffee table.  There is a coffee table, for heaven’s sake.  Once inside, I knock on the screened door separating the men’s from the women’s, calling to the guys from through the screen.
“This place is like a spa,” I whisper.  “I feel more like a geisha than an aikidoka.”
It is definitely a far cry from the dusty, dark storage closet I would occasionally change in.  Not that the women here don’t change right next to the mop and pail.  They do.  It’s just tastefully concealed behind a curtain of muted red brocade.

But notice that I mention “women”.  As in plural.  More than one.  More than just me.  That in itself is uncommon to me outside of seminars.  Though there are only three other female aikidoka in attendance, it is still quite nice to see.  I recognize one, an older Asian woman, as a yudansha I had met before at the last seminar in Saskatoon.  The other two are young women from the Regina dojo who have only been training for a couple of months.  I recall Sensei mentioning in the past that it was best that beginners not attend a seminar until they have learned decent ukemi.  Then again, this host dojo is relatively small --- their own students in attendance numbered very little more than the six our own club has brought out --- perhaps they simply wished better representation.  Likewise, there is always something to be learned, whether you can do ukemi or not.

I step onto the mats to stretch, and even the lightness of their colour seems a bit of an indulgence.
“However do they get the blood out?”  I wonder.  Peroxide, I’m to find out later.

Kawahara Shihan arrives after our warm-up (a series of light, dynamic stretches, minimal ukemi, and some shikko, led by Don, the sensei of the Saskatoon dojo) but without an interpreter this time, making it sometimes difficult to understand him, as he tends to speak quietly.  It is tough to imagine this soft-spoken, seemingly-docile man who plods around the room, looks at you with kindly eyes and teaches beginners with a gentle disposition as the same man who apparently would pick fights and totally break guys left, right and centre in the drunken, Regina bar-brawl story from years ago.  Or perhaps not... 

He uses the instructor of the host dojo as uke a great deal and you can tell that Kawahara is enjoying pushing the young man’s physical limits, not to mention his pain threshold.  Well, whatever pain threshold he must have left.  Pliable ukes tend to take nice, light ukemi and after all, tend to be the most challenging to pin.  So nage simply pins harder.  Heh.  This of course, is coming from the girl who Sensei and the guys call “Miss Rubber Limbs”, “Gumby” and “The One with No Tendons”.  Don’t I know it.

We start off with the standard basic exercises:  tai no henka, tai no tenkan.  I get a good correction on my ukemi for the latter from Don, that is, to make the first, inside step smaller so that I don’t end up so far away from nage after the turn.  It works well for me, petite as I am, and I am grateful for the advice.  We go through a variety of techniques --- most are familiar --- but the two that throw me off are Sankyo (stepping backwards while bringing uke down to the mat --- unfamiliar to me) and later, a form of Kaitenage (I keep forgetting the tenkan).

To Be Continued... ]]></body>
	<date>11-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1218">
	<title><![CDATA[Playing Catch-up]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Things have been so go-go-go these days, that I haven't had a chance to stop and genuflect as much as usual.  Here's a start (or at least a glance backwards) for now.  Just to mix things up a little, I've been reflecting in a different style --- should be a nice breather from the usual notes regarding technique, at the very least.

11.10.04 (17:33, on the bus to the dojo)

Well, this is it.  The moment of truth.  Okay, so the preliminary one...tonight, we all test in-house.  This time, for me, there is no "cramming" at the last minute to get ready, no showing up early to practice.  This time, there sure as hell was no going to the dojo for weeks straight to prepare.  Nope, not with all of this shit going on, there wasn't.

So how prepared am I?  My mind is a blank slate, ready to be filled.  My body feels at rest, waiting for that moment to bring it to action --- it is relaxed and yet is energized with the knowledge only it knows.  Once again, I must trust it.  Before, I had a tough time doing this.  I mulled over each technique in my mind to no end, compounded my worry by feeding off my own insecurities.

There will be none of that this time.  There is only me.  And after everything that has happened this year, all I've been through, I know it'll be more than enough.  

11.11.04

Okay.  Here we are again, on the brink of yet another test.  This will probably be the last time I'll be able to write before we head out to the seminar in Regina, so I suppose it's the last chance to say something pithy or profound before going off to "bite the bullet", so to speak.  The fact is, there's hardly been enough time to quip about training --- which is rare for me.  But not this year.  Nope.  I've named 2004 as my official Year of Hell.  Yet it's been worth it, ultimately:  I've pushed myself to my physical, mental, and emotional limits (both of my own volition and not).  So am I nervous about testing for Yonkyu?  Ha.  Compared with the shit I've been through, nothing can faze me. ]]></body>
	<date>11-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1146">
	<title><![CDATA[More to think about, more to do]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight, Sensei ran me through most of my test again --- this time he got me to do all of the Suwari Waza techniques along with some of the standing ones.  Aside from bombing miserably on Shomenuchi Koshinage (gak!  need more practice!), some of the finer details Sensei pointed out to me were:

Shomenuchi Sankyo:
- move shin and knee into crook of uke's elbow before the hand change for stability
- Osae:  make sure fingers wrap all the way around the knife edge of uke's hand for better control

All Osae:  should be more of a twisting motion with very little leaning forward

Katatedori Iriminage (Ai-Hanmi):
- don't bend elbow too much during initial movement; keep arm only slightly bent/fairly straight so as to not get cramped

Katatedori Iriminage (Gyaku-Hanmi):
- don't move into uke's side until have broken free of grip (time the move with the cutting-down motion)

Yokomenuchi Kotegaeshi:
- need to make the squatting motion deeper
- need to turn more than 180 degrees on tenkan to lead taller ukes further

Tsuki Kaitenage:
- "cast" uke's arm a little more to the side to take his center better

Ushiro-Ryotekubidori Kokyunage:
- need to time this a little slower to catch uke's energy
- thrust both hands high, up towards ceiling before leading downward

Yokomenuchi Kokyunage:
- always start with the "garbage bag" throw (drops down to one knee); take a short step forward on this one and fall down to one knee on the spot without having to take another step

For randori tonight, we had each uke attack with a bokken --- for most of us, this configuration was a new and challenging experience, finding one has to really adapt to the extra length of space they have to avoid/be wary of.
 ]]></body>
	<date>10-28-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1115">
	<title><![CDATA[Fine-tuning]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...as always.

Spent the last couple of classes brushing up on the two techniques I wasn't secure about during the last test run-through:  Shomenuchi Gokkyo in Suwari Waza (Friday night) and and Shomenuchi Koshinage (tonight).

It seems that there are a couple of ways of doing Gokkyo --- the way Sempai Jeff and Jeremy were showing me, which is shorter and a lot more severe on the elbow joint, and the way Sensei mentioned tonight as the one he prefers us to work on at this stage, which is more like Ikkyo.  On Friday, however, I spent a great deal of time learning the former version from Jeff (ouch!), which was quite awkward to me, since it really does rely heavily on the hips in Suwari Waza (which I need to work on a great deal) and on maintaining a fair amount of mid-air/dubiously-supported tension against uke's elbow...man, there's gotta be an easier way.  But you never know...I still have yet to try the Ikkyo-ish version.  

Shomenuchi Koshinage is starting to feel better (after a few false starts, hits and misses) --- ultimately, I found that in order to keep my arm straight without any "conflict" with uke's strength, I had to squat considerably lower.  Sheesh.  After all that --- that's all it was.  Just typical. :-) ]]></body>
	<date>10-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1088">
	<title><![CDATA[Welcome Back to Me :-D]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Man, is it ever good to get back on the mats again.  

Portland was simply beautiful, but I didn't get out to a dojo there after all due to having to spend so much time on a report for work (!)...I didn't feel too bad about it, since it turned out that the Sensei I was hoping to train under was away in Japan the whole time I was there.  There'll be other times.

After I got back, it's been a week of utter hell --- emotionally exhausting, if nothing else --- so getting to focus, really focus, on something as all-consuming and physical as keiko was certainly much-needed catharsis at the very least.

So what better way to welcome me back on the mats after my little hiatus than with running me through my Yonkyu test?  Actually, it wasn't too bad --- Sempai Jeff (who's subbing for Sensei while he's recovering from some minor surgery) thought it looked good...despite how I initially blanked on Sankyo in Suwari Waza (!) of all things, and still need to work on Gokkyo and Shomenuchi Koshinage since we've only done each of those once.

Really, I can't complain.  Neither can my body, surprisingly.  You'd think that after being away for a couple of weeks it would make a huge difference, but go figure.  Ukemi of all kinds feels really good; so did Randori at the end of class.  With the latter I feel much more intense, interestingly enough.  Much more with-it.  Like I'm not so afraid of hurting the guys anymore.  I hope we do more Randori with Tanto again soon; I heard that they haven't done it in a while.  I really want to focus on it more, since I don't feel confident that I'd be able to hold my own against a knife in real life.  At least not yet. 

I'm going to get back into the old daily routine of atemi and kicking practice, and resistance training each morning...and especially work more on my grip.  No use trying to do a technique if I can't keep a good hold on what I'm doing --- gotta be realistic, after all, and take into account that uke is going to try to get out of it.

I feel like I'm gearing up for something big, something that I need to be even stronger for.  Time to get ready.   ]]></body>
	<date>10-13-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1003">
	<title><![CDATA[You know it's creeping up on test time when...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[when Sensei starts running you through your tests, of course. :D  I had already been given a bit of a "going away present" from Sensei, running me through my Yonkyu test on the fly the last day before my work-induced hiatus, which really surprised me --- not only in that I did not expect it, but --- that I was actually able to remember a fair amount.

We did more of these today, including the first run-through for my Kohai Ken's Gokkyu test.  Wow, time sure flies.  What a nice feeling, to see someone else who's been a consistent student finally get to that point.  Kinda makes ya warm and fuzzy inside.  I mean, it's like you've made this effort over time to help this former-newbie along, and to see progression is very rewarding...I can only imagine how it must feel to Sensei, to see everyone coming along, and to see so many students on the mats.  I know that there was a time when it wasn't always that way.

The focus was on Shihonage tonight, and for me it was Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage --- it's the omote version that I'm still having issues with, but at the end of the night, it was feeling a lot better (took bloody long enough!)  The (dynamic) opening is fine, but I was getting cramped just after this (Sensei noticing that I am dissipating the wide, leading motions of the beginning by making smaller motions after this) ---in particular, I needed to get used to stepping back deeply (which is simultaneously done along with leading and bringing the second hand up into shihonage with a sweeping motion).  It started out feeling quite awkward and initially seemed a counter-intuitive way of stepping (since I naturally take small strides) but after awhile, my body started getting more used to it after a few reps.  Thank goodness.  


 ]]></body>
	<date>09-17-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="995">
	<title><![CDATA[It's good to be back]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After over two weeks of pushing my physical and mental limits with the big conference for work, I'm happy to come back to the mats with a newfound sense of confidence in myself and what I can do.  Suffice it to say, I was able to accomplish what I needed to despite a great deal of sleep deprivation and stress, and am proud to say that I did so with seemingly-abundant energy (!) and a positive attitude that I'm sure can be attributed to Aikido in some way, shape, or form. :)  In true Aiki-fashion, I am now considering getting into Conflict Resolution (and/or possibly International Development) studies in the interim prior to --- or even instead of --- going into grad school (now that I know that I can "think on my feet" and can handle a lot of pressure).  To me it's just "practical Philosophy", completely in line with everything else in my life (be it academic, volunteer, career, or martial-arts-wise).

But onto the good stuff... ;)

In between a lot of Randori practice (lots of tanto stuff, thankfully), and test technique practice, things have been going well over the last few days since I've been back --- earnin' my water, that's for sure; just a couple of notes this time around, for Katatedori Iriminage and Kosadori Iriminage (Ai Hanmi)...

Katatedori Iriminage:  
- the breakaway is not on a flat plane (like with Morotaedori) but sweeps upwards in a "U"

Kosadori Iriminage (Ai Hanmi):
- the breakaway starts with an upward motion (like the start of a shomunuchi bokken strike) --- needs more flow! --- which blocks at uke's elbow before going for his collar
- having control over uke's head/collar is more important than the leading of the arm

With both:
- need to get out of habit of shuffling back in order to avoid tripping over legs when things get tangled up with uke going down during the throw --- step forward and finish regardless

I'm very much looking forward to a trip to Portland, Oregon at the end of next week, and similar to last December's Toronto trip, training at one of the local Aikikai dojos there if at all possible.  That is, if the visitor's/mat fees don't get to me first (they do add up)! ]]></body>
	<date>09-16-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="910">
	<title><![CDATA[The Many Flavours of Nikkyo, Revisited]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day...
Sensei (instructing Steve on how he needs to break out of my grip before putting a particular kind of Nikkyo on me):  "Her hand comes off,"
Me:  "God, I hope not!"]

We haven't done much test stuff lately --- mostly basic techniques that the whole class can practice simultaneously --- so this will have to be a quick, "hit-and-run" journal entry so that I can jot some notes down and dash off again...we concentrated primarily on various types of Nikkyo tonight after Jo practice.

Shomenuchi Nikkyo

Omote:  yet another reminder to myself that with considerably taller ukes, I can't push the arm back all the way --- the entry needs to be abbreviated somewhat, such that I have to absorb the strike downwards to my head slightly then dump the arm off and down to the side; turning with the hips more would help too. :-P

Ura:  again, with taller ukes, I need to bring uke's hand down to my hip very quickly, keeping his arm in my centre and my own arms straight as I spiral-pivot downwards, dropping my weight and going down on one knee

One of the paired Nikkyo exercises (version number who knows what):  just as with everything, having a weaker grip means that my grabbing uke's hand closer to the wrist is not as controlled as when I grab higher up on the hand (say mid-way or so, towards the base of the fingers).

Yes, I know...big yawn.  I'm falling asleep just writing about it. :-P ]]></body>
	<date>08-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="884">
	<title><![CDATA[Bruised, Battered and Loving it (what else is new?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I got up this morning sore in four different places.  That's a good sign.  Pain reminds you that you're alive.  It's helpful when you feel so overwhelmed by other parts of your life that your kneejerk reaction is to go emotionally numb.  I'm looking forward to Jo practice tonight --- one of the things I really love about the weapons work we do is the spiritual release of having to kiai every time you strike.  Often, I feel that it represents for me a roar from the bottom of my soul.  Yup, I really get into it.  I mean, how often do you get to really yell like that in your daily life?  It's a good feeling, getting it out.

The test technique Garry and I worked on last night was Yokomenuchi Kokyunage, of which there are two varieties (we've worked on both in the past, but for the life of us couldn't recall how to do them, so yes --- I will be making some of those banal "instructional" notes here to remind me in future):

Version One - (generally if uke blocks with non-striking hand), Step back, grab uke's arm at wrist and upper arm and throw forward.

Version Two - (if uke does not block), Step forward, cut uke's striking arm down at the elbow, and with the other hand, atemi at his face/neck and throw downwards.

Reminder:  We were going to work on the other Kokyunage on the test (from Ushiro Ryotekubitori) but didn't have enough time last night to let me have a go at it.

Sempai Jeff was out last night --- it had been some time, and it was so good to see him again --- he paired up with me for the "mini-Randori" at the end of class.  I swear, to both see and even more so, to feel Jeff's Randori is to know why I proudly call him Sempai!  Everything he does is strong and without hesitation.  It makes me wonder what I'll be like when I get to Nikkyu one day. ]]></body>
	<date>08-12-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="852">
	<title><![CDATA[Trying to Find My Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It is with a substantial amount of relief that I can still say how, thankfully, work may have been keeping me from writing in my journal lately, but not so much from actual training.  Just a little over a month remains until I will cross myself off the dojo attendance chart for the "hell week" that will be my work's conference...we'll have to see in the coming weeks whether or not I can still hold out going to class as often as I am.

Tonight, we worked mostly on Tsuki Ikkyo - tech notes (as usual):
- for omote, need to move forward before turning at the hips
- for ura, need to keep forward pressure through turn (as in irimi tenkan)
- for both, need to make sure uke's fist is in front of centre during opening move, and not too far away

Lately, we've been incorporating at the end of almost every class 10-15 minutes or so of slow Randori in pairs: we take turns as uke attacking randomly ten times.  It's been a nice way to apply (well, in theory, hehe...) what we've learned, though I'm still of course at the point where there is a very limited repertoire I'm able to draw from; it's a bit of a rut, remembering only a few techniques in response to certain attacks.  I do know, however, that this is simply because these are techniques we've done so often and that this repertoire will increase with time and experience.

As I go along, I find myself conflicted --- well, perhaps "conflicted" isn't the right word --- more like struggling to "find my Aikido".  I know that how I perform a technique greatly depends upon the attacker, and adapting to his force...but I do also realize that these days, I have a tendency to react differently depending upon the particular uke himself, specifically with the bias of what I know of his strength, physique, or tolerance to pain.  I know that I need to shake this bias in order to train more realistically and effectively --- approach each uke as a kind of "blank slate" and adapt purely to their energy and not to what I believe they are capable of handling.  

In essence, I need to develop consistency with how I approach and perform technique; an unbiased reaction to each attack based on my own capabilities and whatever uke may present to me at any given moment.  I suppose that this bias of mine is due to training with the same small number ukes so often, and perhaps as a result, I am getting too comfortable with their idiosyncrasies; that the more and more I train with a wider variety of ukes, the less and less I will subconciously rely upon my prior knowledge of how they will react to technique.  Also, I'm assuming that the better I get with technique itself through long years of practice, the more easily I will come to adapt "on the fly" without really having to think about it.  :)


 ]]></body>
	<date>08-03-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="806">
	<title><![CDATA[On Wanting Your Uke Hard-Boiled, Not Over-Easy]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The Rant du Jour:  Ukes who let you have it WAY too easy
The Test-Technique du Jour:  Tsuki Kaitenage

First, the Rant:

You know those ukes whose centres are a real challenge to take --- either 
1.  unintentionally (as in the case of those new to ukemi, or someone whose physique simply is not conducive to moving and responding to technique as smoothly or quickly as someone lighter, more flexible or more agile), or 
2.  intentionally (they are either the kind that is being helpful in trying to resist technique to show you that you still need to do something more to take their centre, or the kind that resists technique because they are arrogant jerks) 
--- well, whichever type they are, I just so happen to like that kind of uke!  

Unfortunately, it does occasionally come to pass that you get an experienced uke who simply lets you take their balance regardless of whether or not you really earned it.  Man, do I ever hate that!  I happen to enjoy the challenge of trying to figure out what extra adaptation I need to make in order to suit this kind of physical response and resistance to my technique, whether intentional or not.  Even if I look silly in the process, or like I don't know what the heck I'm doing (which isn't really that far from the truth), I greatly prefer being given this opportunity in order to better hone my skills.  If I never get the experience working with someone trying to resist technique, in a real-life situation, how am I supposed to be able to respond to such (I might add:  realistic) a reaction to it? 

Not only does this experience have this very practical side to it, but I find that working through such resistance proves to be more rewarding in the long run when you finally have that "aha!" moment and realize what it was you were doing wrong (as I did tonight).  Unless you're a fresh out-of-the-can beginner, just being given an uke's balance passively without their even having at least some kind of martial mindset simply cheapens the whole ordeal and feels like a waste of all the time and effort that I put into training, which is a fair amount.

Now, the Technique Notes (Tsuki Kaitenage):

- still getting used to the hand movement transistion that goes from hooking uke's arm at the elbow and then sliding down into a Sankyo-like grab --- the hand positioning still needs to get smoothed out, as I feel like I'm losing contact with uke (not good)

- I'm theorizing that I need to maintain a certain amount of tension in uke's hand and arm all the way through the turn under it in order for this to be most effective in terms of keeping control

- the "cut" downwards with uke's hand and arm not only needs to be done diagonally across my front (not on uke's side where he's more stable) but even lower --- even so far as to touch the mat with my hand as with bigger ukes; this also needs to be completed prior to the step back; it's also perfectly acceptible to use both hands for the "cut" for particularly resistant ukes

- if uke maintains a fist throughout, I would have to do Sankyo on it first before the "cut" downwards

- I'm only just now starting to realize that I need to grab control of uke's head (hold it down low) immediately, as soon as the "cut" downwards is complete, but BEFORE I turn my hand around to grab uke's wrist for the throw forward --- eek, this took forever to figure out --- heh

- one last reminder that I keep forgetting to step in really deep at the latter part of the throw and keep my arms extended throughout (essentially pushing with my whole body, not just my arms), and that it's a pushing-downward-on-the-head-while-pushing-both-up-and-forward- with-the-other-hand kind of movement ]]></body>
	<date>07-14-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="798">
	<title><![CDATA[The Infamous "No Pain, No Gain Tally" for July 4th]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:

- The usual aches of my "nikkyo wrist" and big toe (from that old sprain) --- thankfully, I've been on the cancellation list with a nearby physiotherapist and was recently informed that they have a space for me this coming week

- Getting clocked in the middle of the forehead quite sharply as Sensei's training partner during Jo practice (which he attributed to having switched over to a different length of Jo than he was used to); so I've got this bump just above the eyebrow that still hurts to touch it or raise my eyebrows --- ha!  :freaky: 

- Not having the time, or the inclination to write in my journal daily this week...is it apathy?  Is it frustration?  Is it simply that I recognize that I don't have anything valuable to say, and instead of wasting bandwidth, I've decided to spare you all the grief of reading yet another useless journal entry?  Perhaps it's a little bit from Column A, a little bit from Column B...it's all a woven tapestry.

:) Gains:

- I honestly wish I could cite something tangible, but I can't.  Suffice it to say, I think I'm in a bit of a rut.  I'm sure that in the long run, I'll see some big difference in my technique and performance, just like everyone else says, but for the time being, I fail to observe anything noticeable or significant enough to mention.  It feels rather depressing, to be quite honest.  But I manage to plug along, and train just as much as usual (4 days a week) despite being so busy at work that I realize this is quite a luxury.

- I'm not quite sure if this is really a "gain" per se, but something that has at the very least raised some questions for me.  Injury has led me to consider whether or not I should go back to being more serious and stoic on the mats.  When I first started, I was so darn stonefaced, Sempai Jeff was constantly telling me, "Smile!"...sigh...you're damned if ya do, damned if ya don't, it seems.  On the one hand, it's good practice to work through pain and ignore it to continue training --- at least from the standpoint of preparing for such a likelihood in a real-life combat situation (you can't just stand there nursing yourself, you have to keep fighting); and on the other hand, we want folks to disclose their injuries in the dojo so as not to worsen them.  It's quite the toss-up...any and all sage advice you gurus out there wish to impart is welcome.     ]]></body>
	<date>07-11-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="787">
	<title><![CDATA[More of Those Bloody Details]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[When Sensei asked on Wednesday if we'd prefer to work on test techniques, I had to raise an enthusiastic two hands; I have no idea how much time I'll have in the next two months with how work is really picking up...in the meantime, I'm holding out as much as I can and most of all, training as hard as I can.

More temporary dryness...

Wednesday night's test technique for me was Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage.  So many piddly little details, as always:
- needing to keep my hands in front of my centre constantly, especially while the intial leading
- for Omote, side-stepping across uke
- the turn over my head needs to take uke's centre
- then need to finish the throw while consistently leaning forward, not with hips back

Thursday night, we had a small class and decided to forego the Jo practice in favour of going over more test techniques.  This time, it was Yokomenuchi Kotegaeshi, of which we worked more on the "blending" version again:
- prior to the throw, there's a step back from which you generate more power in the turning with your hips to face 180 
- as usual, I really need to work on my Kotegaeshi, particularly torquing uke's wrist more (tough to keep a good grip with my small hands, coupled with uke's sweaty hand...); then there's keeping my palm on uke's knuckle...gah!  

Sometimes it seems like it's the same old, same old trouble areas for me, and so thankfully my ukes and I tend to slow it down to get the form right.  As I've said before (in exasperation, as always), I'll be quite happy when the time comes that I no longer have to focus on these silly details, and everything will be one formless blend --- and there will be "no technique". ]]></body>
	<date>07-03-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="777">
	<title><![CDATA[Finding Power When You Least Expect It]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Not much to note from Monday night's Tae Sabaki other than an interesting experience while working with Sempai Jim.  We were doing the defense from tsuki where you stop uke's punch by driving into the crook of his elbow, then follow up with a strike to the collarbone or chest.  I always have had a greater difficulty with doing this one on bigger, taller ukes due to it being such a direct entry, so just as with many other techniques, I have to enter in quite quickly to compensate.

Well, Jim, who is pretty much one of the heaviest of the tall students in the class, suggested to me that I might try moving in a little faster in order to take his centre better.  So I thought, "okay!" and proceeded to crouch down a little more at the knees so as to spring forward (à la performing a tsuki with a bokken).  I guess the timing must have been ideal and I must have sprung forward fast enough, because as Jim was beginning to come at me with his tsuki, I essentially plowed right into his elbow and knocked him completely down  --- it happened so quickly, and without even having to do the follow-up strike.  "Wow", is all I can say.  The most surprising (and to me, impressive) thing about this, however, was that although it felt like I was impacting him strongly, it did not feel awkward or painful at all.  It was as though I just popped into the space he had initially occupied.  Ha.  Of course, this only happened once, but...wow. ]]></body>
	<date>06-29-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="755">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting into Gokkyo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  "It's the "Z" of pain," is how I described the Gokkyo pin to Sempai Jim.]

As you may or may not have noticed, I've been intentionally leaving out of my journal days during which I trained, but did not get the opportunity to practice any test techniques --- more out of a sense of brevity, a kind of economy of words and effort that I can't help but exercise these days due to being so very busy at work.  (Which is probably why I'm now being extremely verbose --- I think I'm in Aikido-journal-writing withdrawal!)  Actually, Sensei and I had a discussion about this just now after class.  Out of a concern that I might be spreading myself too thin, he asked if I had set boundaries for myself with work.  To this I replied yes, so long as they don't infringe on my Aikido!  Working before it, coming in late after it, working extra on the weekends:  that's all fine.  But try to make me miss class, and I'll bite yer head off!  Needless to say, Sensei was quite pleased.    

We started out tonight with a slightly different warm-up than usual:  we did some paired exercises --- mostly stretches, but also a very interesting shiatsu pressure-point manipulation up and down our partner's back (pairing this with focusing your ki through your hand, and breathing), as well as doing "travelling" ukemi all around the edge of the mat instead of lined up in a row like usual.  All in all, it made for a nice, fresh change to the everyday routine.

The test technique I picked out for myself tonight (finally starting to get used to this --- heh) was Shomenuchi Gokkyo.  Thus far, I had only ever been on the receiving end of Gokkyo (from Sempai Tim and Jeremy's Gokkyu test preparations earlier this year) so it was quite the experience getting into it.  Unfortunately, I didn't get to spend as much time practicing it as I would have liked (mostly due to my working in a group of three) but in the short while that I did, the following issues came to the fore:
- The uniqueness of the initial entry, particularly the block, where the higher hand stays flat and parallel with uke's arm (unlike with Ikkyo, Nikkyo, etc.)
- Getting used to wrapping my hand right around the outside of uke's to grab his wrist on the other side...very weird-feeling.  I found myself having to get on tiptoe just to do this to Sempai Jim's wrist, which probably means I have to do this once I've lowered his arm somewhat first.  Duh!
- Adapting to taller ukes by, as Sensei describes it, first absorbing the strike towards my forehead and then bringing it down to the side instead of trying to enter in deeply the traditional way.  It's very "ura-ish", as I describe it in my Japanglish.

Aside from all this, and of course the pin, all the rest in-between is pretty much like Ikkyo (thank goodness).  It feels awkward (surprise, surprise) and labourous, but I no longer seem to be as frustrated about these feelings as I used to be.  I'm starting to think, "Meh!  I'll figure it out eventually."  Wow.  I must really be tired and over-worked these days if I've become that lax about technique.  Who knew *that* would ever happen?  I guess I'm just too darn occupied to kick myself over stuff.  Go figure.  :)

We ended things with a Kokyunage, as per SOP ("standard operating procedure).  Maybe that's why I'm so happy-go-lucky.  No matter how much I suck at other techniques, there's always Kokyunage to help buff my ego.  Heh.  ;) ]]></body>
	<date>06-23-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="741">
	<title><![CDATA[Nasty, Brutish and Short]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...besides life, apparently refers to me. ;)  It can also refer to Kotegaeshi, as I've experienced it at the hands of some Sempai of mine --- my "Nikkyo Wrist", which I've had for over a month now, was actually caused by an overzealous Kotegaeshi coupled with my own inept ukemi for it :)

[Quote of the Day:  "You're such a brute."  Sensei teasing me after I do a round of Katatedori Kotegaeshi on him (hey, he asked me to really "give 'er!", so I did)]

It was one of those really small classes again on Friday night --- just me, Sensei, and the new guy; so we did the old standard of an informal, independent warmup followed by working on just the one technique throughout the evening, cycling through practice as a group of three.

Kotegaeshi has always been hit or miss for me.  In this way, it's pretty much become symbolic of my own Aikido as a whole right now.  There will be times when it feels just brilliant --- smooth, flowing, and makes my ukes yelp --- and other times when it feels sluggish and about as effective as doing Kotegaeshi on a dead horse, or my ability to come up with a decent analogy.

Thankfully, for the likes of me, there are enough newbies coming through the dojo on a regular basis that we are often forced to turn our attention time and time again to the basics.  Goodness knows, I need it.  Things I still need to pay a great deal of attention to re: Kotegaeshi  include:
- Using the momentum of the initial tenkan to bring uke down low
- Taking care not to get crowded with my elbow over uke's arm during this
- Planting my back leg during the final turn into Kotegaeshi so as not to end up with my legs crossed, a bad habit of mine ("Very balletic of you," Sensei commented. "Or very demure," I quipped back.)
- Driving forward with my back hip to power Kotegaeshi...this one's been a little more tough to do, because I find that doing this to the degree that Sensei asks forces me into an unbalanced, twisted position even if I do plant my back leg --- go figure.

Once again (will this never end?!) I found myself holding back because of the newbie.  It happens (and I've written about it) so very often that I'm tempted to call it OSNS, for Overly-Sensitive Nage Syndrome.  I'll start off gently, then Sensei will gradually tell me to up the ante, and I'll do so again and again to the point where my uke yelps.  I'm beginning to think that it has less to do with my own lack of confidence and more to do with my fear of hurting uke; I already know that if I just "give 'er", my technique can be effective (as I've found out from the abandon with which I did my Gokkyu test, whenever I do some kind of Kokyunage, and occasionally when I am paired with any ukes who are under 50 and aren't newbies).  With everyone and everything else, I tend to hesitate...and I'm still not quite sure why.  Perhaps if it ever comes to pass that I get over these reservations, I will actually become nasty, brutish and --- well, I can't help being short.  Or maybe my Aikido will no longer be hit and miss.  Who knows? ]]></body>
	<date>06-20-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="731">
	<title><![CDATA[That Dreaded, Boring Journal Entry with Nothing bu]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sigh...here we go.  Seeing as I skipped doing this for Tuesday night's test technique, I might as well just lump it in with tonight's.  I know it's dull, but I also know that I should do it, and it's not like it's deserving of being a "private" entry either.  I mean, as if I have any oh-so-secret techniques of martial mastery to hide from the rest of you.  Hehehe...even if I did...if I told you, I'd have to kill you.  Mwahahahaha!  Ahem --- I mean, oops!  Did that slip out?  That wasn't very "Way of Harmony" of me, was it now?  ;)

*cough*

Yokomenuchi Kotegaeshi:
- Enter in directly, but instead of blocking uke's striking hand (and stopping it), lead it downwards somewhat, then continue this downward motion with a sweeping cut using the other hand
- Then...thank goodness the rest is just like the regular Kotegaeshi we've done before.  You know the drill.  Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. ;)

Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage (the dynamic version --- Now with Extra Flow!):
- Remember to open "bait" hand outwards during initial leading of uke around, then bring it into centre before direction change (when second hand is grabbed)
- Distinction between Omote and Ura --- don't forget to step across/bring uke's arm across his body, which constitutes Omote; it feels more natural and flowing to do this with whole body (time this with step forward) while you are already swinging uke's arm upwards.  I don't seem to be having much of a problem with Ura at all, because it feels so automatic not to step across and just blend/go to the rear.
- Then, the rest is just like...well, regular Shihonage (thank goodness).  :) 

There.  Now that wasn't so painful, was it? 
(Well, at least for Nage...)  ;) ]]></body>
	<date>06-17-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="729">
	<title><![CDATA[Unfamiliar Independence]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  "Does that feel any better?  And by 'better', I mean 'worse'?"  Me, asking my Kohai Ken to tell me how effective my Kotegaeshi feels after making some technique adjustments.]

Once again, we worked on test techniques in lieu of the usual Randori (sniffle) --- and once again, I got to choose which I wanted to work on.  Running down the list, I noticed Yokomenuchi Kotegaeshi as yet another that I had never done before and picked that.  It worked out nicely, as Kohai Ken was himself having to work on Yokomenuchi Shihonage and had also remembered Sempai Garry having worked on my new technique not that long ago.  So he was able to help me get the ball rolling, so to speak, with ideas on how it went (seeing as I had absolutely no clue how to start).  

As I've alluded to before, being given "carte blanche" (as Sempai Garry calls it) from Sensei to start learning new techniques independently is quite unfamiliar territory.  Thus far, I seem to have been getting along fairly well by mimicking what I'm shown in almost all the martial arts I've ever done.  Being a "copycat" has always been a rather easy, safe route to take --- granted with Aikido (as all of you know) it becomes a great deal more complex.  Now add to this the challenge of having to very nearly start learning from scratch...I know that ultimately "there is no technique", as O Sensei was known to have said.  And I know that (as I've been told) knowing the basics really sets you up for other techniques because the same principles are applied --- everything else, as they say, is simply a variation of the basics.

So why does it feel like such a challenge?  Perhaps it's my own mindset that is making it so.  Doesn't this sort of feeling always crop up when one, after complacently being used to performing in the same fashion for so long, is suddenly taken out of their comfort-zone?  If so, then it's just a matter of getting used to it, just like everything else. ]]></body>
	<date>06-16-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="715">
	<title><![CDATA[The Trials and Tribulations of Sempai Jamie]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  "Well, it's been a long week." --- Me, once after flubbing up a seemingly-simple Dai-Kotegaeshi, and again after flubbing up bowing out, of all things.]

Apparently my Sempai were going at it pretty hard on Thursday night (which I missed due to work --- waaah) so not surprisingly it was just me, two of my Kohai and a new student yesterday night.  So by default ("the two sweetest words in the English language") I became Sensei's demo uke for the night.  No flamboyant breakfalls for me this time, though.  Just all the basic stuff: Tae no henko, Katatedori Kokyuho, Katatedori Shihonage.  Nothing to screw up the ukemi on. ;)

The new student was extra fortunate to have his first day at the dojo be one of fairly smooth transitions overall --- after a discussion I had with Sensei the other night regarding the origins of certain classic exercises we don't do in class very often (its assumed we make a habit of working on them at home), we found ourselves practicing a bit of Irimi Tenkan, Funekogi-Undo, Ikkyo-Undo and Zendo-Undo --- all things that both I and the new student were quite familiar with from his former Ki-Societyesque dojo.  

Working on the basics and these old exercises again is not only nostalgic, but quite the humbling experience for me these days --- they always go to show that regardless of how well I think I may know the basic form of them, it doesn't matter --- what always comes to the fore is exactly how much I still need to work on engaging my hips to generate power.  As a result, I've been trying to slow things down a lot to work on making this a habit, an impressing this into my body's memory.  As you can imagine, it's been an uphill battle. :)

Getting Used to Learning...Differently

I am reminded that, in addition to this, I'm in the process of getting used to a new way of learning --- it seems that, now that I'm ranked, I've joined my group of Sempai in being those students for whom we get the dubious honour of not having everything presented on a silver platter.  In learning new test techniques over the past few days, I've been given the opportunity (or curse) of trying to learn them independently first, based upon what I already know, instead of Sensei automatically demonstrating it for me.  I recall the first unfamiliar one I was told to practice, Katatedori Iriminage (Gyaku-hanmi), and how I was asked to attempt it on my own --- at first, my instinct was to enter as in Morotaedori Iriminage, which was actually quite close to being correct...but I stopped myself, said "I have some theories..." and looked to Sensei for help.  If only I had the confidence to stick my neck out and take that risk...but there's no use thinking, "if only this, if only that".  Is it that I'm afraid of failure?  Of looking foolish?  It's a little too late for that.  Am I that much of a perfectionist?  We all have to look a little foolish at first, don't we --- to get to where we need to go.  I just need to get over my own petty insecurities and just bloody well do it.  ]]></body>
	<date>06-12-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="705">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting Used to Moving...Differently]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  
"There are a lot of strange ways of moving in Aikido that, after a while, you just get used to."  Sensei remarked to Victor.
"Gosh, I sure hope so,"  said I.]

For the past couple of days, we've had rather small classes, and so have concentrated primarily on test preparation.  Currently being on the road to yonkyu has opened the door to some new techniques for me, along with some new approaches to learning that, well --- will all take some getting used to, to say the least.  The latter, I'll have to cover in future when I have a little more time, but for now you'll just have to be satisfied with this mundane housekeeping business for now.

Now for that time in the journal entry when I prattle off some dull but helpful notes on the new test techniques I've started learning so far.  Just feel free to scroll down past these if and when you get bored. :)

Katatedori Iriminage (both from Ai Hanmi and Gyaku Hanmi)
From Ai Hanmi:
- maintain connection to uke with grabbed wrist by absorbing inwards slightly and bringing arm around counterclockwise (keep arm straight, don't collapse in at elbow)
- keep uke's head flush against chest, and sweep arm down low enough to touch or almost touch the mat
From Gyaku Hanmi:
- enter in similar to Morotaedori Iriminage, only breaking uke's grip by moving in with arm rising upwards diagonally
- keep uke's head right into chest, but don't have to bring down as low as with Ai Hanmi
For both:
- hold onto uke's collar if easier than grabbing neck
- finish throw off by stepping in (almost perpendicular) under uke's body, and aligned forward towards him (not sideways) with arms out in front slightly (instead of to the side, as I have been used to doing with say, Kokyuho)

Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage (both Omote and Ura)
- remember to make a habit of grabbing hold of uke's hand with hand still in contact before the torque up into Shihonage
For Omote:
- the torque into Shihonage is upwards and to the side slightly; then step across/in front of uke and under his arm

As you might have guessed, my having to write out so many details = a heck of a lot to get used to! 

 ]]></body>
	<date>06-09-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="699">
	<title><![CDATA[Some Sharp and Cutting Commentary]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...on The Art of Drawing the Sword in Very Specific Ways

[Quote of the Day:  "If I thought you were brutalizing me, I'd kick your ass.  I don't know how I'd do it, but trust me, I'd find a way."  - My response to Sensei's query to me if I ever felt brutalized or abused in class.]

Having sampled a little bit of Iaido visually when I visited Toronto last December  [see past entry from 01-01-2004, "Training in Toronto: Toronto Aikikai (Day 2 of 2 - 12.30.03)"] it was an even more exciting experience to be able to sample it physically tonight courtesy of our visiting Yudansha --- albeit using bokken instead of real swords (heck, we're dangerous enough with wooden ones as it is!)  Once again, Sensei came through with yet another great way to expand the breadth of our experience [see past entry from 04-24-2004 , "Aikikai/Iwama Gasshuku - Day One of Two" ).

Iaido is, to be quite glib about it, an anal-retentive person's worst nightmare.  Or so we were to find out.  It is so painstakingly ritualistic in its ways (not that this comes as much of a surprise --- you have to be when you're using live blades) that having to initially attempt to remember every minute little detail is enough to make one's head spin (poor Sempai Garry).  Don't get me wrong, it's a perfectionist's dream --- and like the annoying over-achiever that I am, I enjoyed every excruciating minute of it.  :)

Perhaps the biggest challenge for me personally was in trying to get used to the lack of balance that some of the stances (both kneeling and upright) caused, more than likely due to their lack of physical familiarity to me...we are told that in theory, these movements are all in fact quite pragmatic.  I for one, found some of the foot positioning somewhat uncomfortable and unnatural-feeling in how narrow they were at times. 

The art seems also for the most part, in this modern (and horribly, tediously safe) society, a rather solitary practice.  I'm guessing that at one point in its development, its originators dabbled a bit with practicing on a partner but found that much to their chagrin, they would for some reason have to replace their training partner more often the better and better they got at cutting them. :)



 ]]></body>
	<date>06-07-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="695">
	<title><![CDATA[Learning from Yudansha what Not to Do (aka the No]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  "It may be that your sole purpose in
life is simply to serve as a warning to others."]

Well, it's been some time since I've been journaling on Aikiweb, but thankfully it's not because I haven't been to class --- quite the contrary, as I'm still out about 4 times a week and (hopefully) gaining substantial progress in exchange for all these fantastic thrills and spills... :D

 :crazy: Pains:

- that darn "Nikkyo-wrist" is still hanging around after a few weeks...thinking of finally seeing a physiotherapist about it

- freaking out the guys over a scary-looking ukemi from Sensei's Kaitenage --- thankfully, it looked a lot worse than it was (as Sempai Tim said to me afterwards, "I thought you broke your neck!  I was going to call an ambulance!") --- I had landed in a faceplant on the right side of my neck and kind of slumped over, I guess in a seemingly lifeless manner (apparently the guys tell me the sound I made hitting the mat wasn't exactly pleasant either) --- I'm lucky all that I got afterwards (iced my neck upon Sensei's advice) was a slight pull in the muscle next to my right shoulder.

- the infamous "Turf Toe" after my big toe got caught in a visiting black belt's excessively long (and obviously dangerous) hakama (this thing was dragging on the ground, it was so long); didn't help any that on top of this (hyperextending my toe downwards) to add insult to injury, he dropped his weight on my toe without realizing it...it was the nastiest Turf Toe I've ever received so far (knock on wood) --- after a while, I was having difficulty even putting much weight on that foot.  I'm just happy it's feeling better today (been icing it and wrapping it properly according to a great book I picked up called, "Martial Arts Injury, Care & Prevention --- highly recommended, by the way!)

Happy birthday to me.  :freaky: 

Okay, after all that whining...

:p Gains:

- A greater appreciation of how flexible I am --- Sensei thinks that it's been my saving grace in preventing serious injury.  The way the guys at the dojo go on about it, you'd think I had nine lives or something...(meow!)

- The affirmation that by my being appreciative of the challenges of working with newbies is ultimately helping to improve my technique (by having to adapt to sincere/honest ukemi responses) --- the visiting Yudansha was apparently from a much larger dojo that most likely was split into separate classes for white and black belts...he seemed really bored at ours.  I hope I never become like that.  (hiss!)  I love the challenge of working with newbies, simply because it forces me to adapt to them and work with their energy.  

- A more positive attitude towards who I am, what I am able to accomplish, and my own philosophy (rowr!) :grr:  ]]></body>
	<date>06-06-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="640">
	<title><![CDATA[Forward and Fatalistic Thinking]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:  "You're getting 'Tensor' and tenser," --- "punningly" remarked Sempai Jeremy upon seeing my Tensor-brand neoprene wrist brace.]

So it finally happened.  I never thought it would happen to me, but lo and behold, I have long last reached that point in my training where I can take that deep breath and say, "I earned it."

Yes, folks.  I have "Nikkyo-wrist"!

At least that's what the guys in my dojo call it.  Now, no need for congratulations.  Having been called by Sensei at turns, "Miss Rubber-Joints" and the one that "has no tendons", I'm just as surprised at the next person. :)  But I've already milked this for all it's worth, so I best get to the point ;) :

Aside from some Katadori Kokyunage, we did some Kotegaeshi a couple of times (from both Yokomenuchi in Suwari Waza and Tsuki) which, along with Nikkyo of course, tends to aggravate my weak left wrist.  Suffice it to say, I had been for some time rather...apprehensive about breakfalling on that side but a round practicing this technique as Sensei's uke seems to have fixed that for the most part.  My ukemi felt a lot lighter and more flowing this time --- something I can only assume to attribute not only to thinking/visualizing myself as moving forward more into the fall but perhaps even that fearless, fatalistic mode that I have known myself to switch on at times on the mats (and of which I have written about only in private entries thus far --- in a nutshell, it's a Samurai mindset:  not fearing death --- or in this case, injury.  I once read a lot about it both in Musashi's "Book of Five Rings" and the Hagakure).  [For some interesting Aiki-related quotes from the former text, see past journal entry:  '"A Book of Five Rings" and Aikido' - 09-04-2003]  

Speaking of fearless fatalism, we did a few rounds of Jiyu Waza/Randori each at the end of class today (applying the Katadori Kokyunage and Tsuki Kotegaeshi) and everyone seemed to do quite well --- especially of note were a smooth round by Sempai Jeff (of course) and a round with good evasion by Kohai Ken, who's getting better and better these days.  Do I sound like I'm beaming?  I am. :)  I think we all earned our water tonight! ]]></body>
	<date>05-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="631">
	<title><![CDATA[Gaining Focus from Losing Focus]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:
"If someone swings at you with a baseball bat and doesn't know what they're doing, you'll be okay, but if someone actually skilled with a sword ever comes at you, just run away!" --- Sensei Jon Hay's sage advice to us all after a class of primarily defenses from Bokken strikes.]

For the past couple of weeks, I've been making a habit of purposely training without wearing either my glasses (usually during weapons work) or my contact lenses (usually during all other, regular classes) with the reasoning that I need to learn how to defend myself in all situations, especially those in my "natural state" without the aid of corrective lenses.  I figured that, now, over a year into my training, I can make this transition a lot easier --- it's certainly not something I would have tried a lot earlier on without at least some overall familiarity with techniques.  

Of course, aside from the very practical advantages of not using corrective lenses on the mats (no obtrusive glasses to come flying off, no irritated or dry eyes from contacts, etc.) there just so happened to be other advantages to adapting that I had not originally, um...forseen (*chuckle*). For one, having slightly fuzzier vision forces you to concentrate even harder than usual on picking out details when Sensei demonstrates --- it's pretty much "blink, and you'll miss it".  Another thing is that when it comes to weapons and other exercises that rely heavily on perfect timing, the disadvantage of bad eyesight tends to make you move a little faster than usual --- even if it is, I suppose, more out of a self-preservation instinct than anything else.

I only wish, however, that this latter aspect would manifest itself more during Randori.  It seems that, much to my chagrin, my Randori/Jiyu-Waza has become worse since I stopped using corrective lenses during class.  So far, I can only attribute it to it being comprised of faster and more continuous attacks than usual practice, and my still adapting to having worse eyesight on the mats.  Needless to say, I'm hoping that this gets better with practice.  I hate the thought of being so dependent upon corrective lenses.  

My theory is that the more I get used to this change, and the more and more having worse eyesight becomes normal to me, one of the major ways my body will adapt to this change will probably be by forcing me to rely more on feel and blending rather than having to concentrate on seeing in order to move correctly/putting parts of myself in all the right places in relation to uke...for now, only time will tell. :).

 ]]></body>
	<date>05-12-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="617">
	<title><![CDATA[Mostly Armless]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Those of you who've read the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy series will get the pun (and not just the double entendre). :)

A couple of interesting experiences to note on this very-oddly strung together theme:

On Monday, we did an evasion form of Randori whereby we weren't allowed to use our hands or arms to deflect attacks (in this case, Shomenuchi) but had to avoid getting hit anyway.  Needless to say, due to the speed of attacks (since you're not throwing, there's hardly a pause in between them) it was very easy to get cornered by two ukes and we all found it quite difficult --- even Sensei got hit a couple of times during one round.  I guess even monkey's fall from trees... :D

My first round wasn't so bad, but the second was rather miserable --- my ukes were both newbies and weren't realistically following through on their strikes with their whole bodies/centres (which would have made it easier to evade) so I ended up pathetically running around the mats as they chased me.  :freaky:  It's amazing how much of a difference one little atemi for distraction can make!  But enough excuses. The big challenge for me was in the time I had to make by waiting for one uke to strike, the other would cut off my best (widest) route of evasion, resulting in my having to squeeze through between them.  Next time, I really ought to practice evading sideways at an acute angle to my ukes more, à la Sensei-style.

Last night, I took a (long-awaited) beginner's workshop in Japanese Taiko drumming given by a local performing group, Fubuki Daiko.  I've always loved the sound of the "thunder drums", and from what I already knew of the art, I was sure that it would be an excellent complement to my Aikido training.  I wasn't mistaken.  Many of the basic principles completely cohered with what I had learned on the mats --- the importance of stance, keeping awareness of your centre, using your hips, Ki, Kiai, and even down to the way you grip your drumsticks (very bokken-like).  The style of teaching was also very much in the martial tradition, and not only was it nice to already know some of the language and traditions (counting in Japanese, sitting in Seiza, and bowing in and out of the dojo) I found myself in the one place off the mats where I could say, "Hai Sensei" without someone looking at me funny. :)

Another really awesome thing about this (aside from the really cool sound of the drums) is that whereas with Bokken work, you can't really follow through with your strikes to see the pragmatic end result of your great extension or form (unless you actually take a katana and go running amok slicing people in "Kill Bill" fashion --- or maybe not...Uma didn't exactly have the greatest swordmanship; but I digress) with Taiko, you can hear the result of your Ki (or lack thereof, in my case) in the sound that the drum makes.  Just as if you had a live blade and had the dynamics of proper cutting form correct, you would most likely slice through someone quite smoothly (or so I hear), I'm taking a wild --- yet educated --- stab in the dark (sorry) in thinking that proper form in Taiko drumming would result in stronger and better quality sound from your drum.  I have a female acquaintance in a Taiko student performance group who's told me that though she's smaller, she can drum louder than most of the guys, and that it has nothing to do with strength.  Now, where have I heard this concept before? ;)

The one principle that I applied without being told to (my bad! :D ) was paying close attention to Kokyu, and exhaling on each exertion of a long/hard strike (not much time to do this during the shorter ones --- heck, you'd hyperventilate!).  [We'll see if I'm jumping the gun and being overly cocky in this assumption --- I've signed up for the weekly beginner classes and will start them next Friday.]  The possible downside is that I'm so used to doing this (not only from Aikido but from the past: boxing, lifting weights and playing badminton, etc.) that if they have a completely different style of breathing, I'm definitely screwed!

I overheard a fair amount of other students at the end of class complaining of sore arms, to which I could not personally relate to but only chuckle, "that's because you're using too much arm strength!"  Naturally, despite this oh-so sage wisdom of mine (and not having sore arms afterwards), I still did get the advice from one of the Taiko Senseis to use my hips more.  When she said that, I could just envision Sensei Jon crossing his arms and nodding in stern approval of this correcton.  :) ]]></body>
	<date>05-05-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="616">
	<title><![CDATA[Back into Randori --- with a Vengeance ;-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It was nice to get back into this after a long hiatus --- I swear, I was suffering from withdrawal!  We had temporarily suspended doing Randori on Tuesdays to concentrate on test preparations, but it's been long since then, and now Sensei is wanting us to go back to doing it more often (yay!)

The only (temporary, or so I'd hope :P ) downside to this was that we had a couple of newbies who had never done Randori before, and despite Sensei's encouragements to slow things down in order to concentrate on technique, I think they got a little too carried away with the "fight or flight" survival mode feeling of it all and as a result of not being relaxed, things turned out more into a shoving match, which for myself, is not what I was wanting to do.  I was very much looking forward to being able to practice blending from the genuine momentum that ukes generally give during Randori (yes, I really, really missed it); the techniques we were working on at the time were, after all, Ryokatadori Kokyunage.  

Unfortunately, I just so happened to have the great misfortune of (by chance) getting cycled through with what Sensei later called the three hardest ukes I could ever get.  The first couple of rounds were alright, and I felt like I compensated pretty decently --- often I would get little energy from uke and would have to drop down to one knee very quickly at the end of the throw to bring them down --- apparently it became rather entertaining for Sensei and the other guys, particularly when one uke ended up flying right over my head (!) as I threw him while kneeling down simultaneously.  To me, it was just a blur of white. :D

The last round, however, was hell.  The major challenge for me was getting two out of the three of them (newbies, surprise surprise) to attack with a realistic momentum; being the size that I am, I certainly couldn't force technique or muscle my way through it the way that I see most of the other guys doing, and besides --- I was there to practice Aikido, not Sumo.  So I would atemi my ukes (open-handed) towards the face prior to attempting the throw, hoping to get enough of an energetic reaction out of them to be able to take that energy and do the technique properly.  Sempai Jim, who was one of my ukes and has trained for a very long time, got the picture real quickly and reacted realistically enough but the other two were like standing bricks of lead and generated a nice little lecture from Sensei at the end of class about how in real life, shoulder grabs wouldn't just end there and that for your own safety as uke, you need to learn to react realistically to atemi. :)

Sensei told me that next time, I would just have to be harder on them, and that I had done extremely well considering the ukes I was given.  I admitted that I definitely could have used an extra round to straighten things out (horrible perfectionist that I am, I always know that I can do way better), and that next time if uke didn't get with the program, I would simply turn my open-handed atemi into a fist.

I described my mood to Sensei as "mildly irritated" about it.  But I think it's mostly just because I'm PMS-ing.  I've recently been hearing that a number of female Aikidoka feel clumsy during "that time of the month", but I personally haven't felt that.  I just get meaner. ;)   ]]></body>
	<date>04-29-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="613">
	<title><![CDATA[Budo as Escapism, Revisited]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Not that I want to freak people out or anything, but...

I spent lunch alone today to get away from the office and while at turns eating and ruminating, it occurred to me how absolutely numb I feel throughout the workday.  Don't get me wrong, I don't go about in a daze or anything, nor am I completely unemotional --- I do my job and interact with folks genuinely and with awareness.  It's just that as I sat there, I was getting this feeling --- one that I've had in the past as well --- kind of like everything that happens during the workday is a dream.  The more I thought about it, the politics of it, the protocols, the bureaucratic nonsense and the stoic masks people wear to play the game don't seem to be real at all.  I've compartmentalized my feelings about work so much that whatever idealistic notions I had coming into it have been shoved aside and boxed in by my own cynicism.  

It's not until I get into the dojo and onto the mats that things become real.  I mean, the sweat and exertion is real, the pain is real.  They remind me that I'm alive.  And I in turn strongly exert the proof of my own existence with my own Toushi, my martial spirit.  I'll bow in, focus, and nothing else outside those walls matters.  All I can say is thank God for this part of my life, and the ability to challenge my limits and express my own spirit in this way.  In addition, Aikido's philosophy of blending has served me well in being able to deal with those people at work who hurt others, and at the same time progressively support those others who have been hurt. ]]></body>
	<date>04-27-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="612">
	<title><![CDATA[Extending From the Inside-Out]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've been realizing in retrospect (in thinking about yesterday afternoon's Jo and tonight's Bokken practice) that when it comes to weapons work, I've started making a habit of really applying this principle --- and not just physically either.  Looking back, I notice that I've become of an assertive and martial mindset when practicing with the Bokken and Jo that I have not yet applied to my empty-hand practice.  These days, I tend to extend my weapon more strongly outwards, keep a more solid stance, and am willing to impose a (safer) distance with my weapon between me and uke whereas I used to collapse it against my body more often than not.  

This has become quite evident not only in my kiai and breathing during strikes, but in kata --- for although I've been asserting myself martially, I've also become more relaxed and less self-conscious about the space I take up (especially when it comes to the latter).  I still maintain a conscious effort to be aware of the space between me and others while I practice, but I've become more confident in knowing how close is "too close" and how far is sufficient for complete extension.  That nasty step number seven of the Eight Directions kata that for the longest time I felt I just wasn't getting has finally become a lot less nasty as of tonight because of this --- it's actually starting to feel very smooth, and consistently so.  [See past journal entry: "Getting tired of the details..." 11-04-2003]

Now, to apply this to empty-hand!  (Just not the way I did tonight by extending right through --- and thus spraining --- my left big toe!)  I wonder (only half-facetiously) if thinking of my arms as weapons might do the trick? :D ]]></body>
	<date>04-27-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="605">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikikai/Iwama Gasshuku - Day Two of Two]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[There were about half as many of us on the mats today, which was kind of nice in that there was more room to practice in, if not as much variety in partners.

Niomba Sensei taught for the morning this time, starting with a softer version of yesterday's rolling warmup and tobu ukemi, but including some dynamic/continuous leg stretches and some practice for faster breakfalls which I had never done before but was quite fun (all that spinning around horizontally).

This morning, we worked mostly on techniques from Morotaedori --- a couple of kinds of Kokyuho as well as some enjoyable Kaeshi Waza from Morotaedori Shihonage that culminated in a Judo/Jiujutsu-like throw. We also did some techniques from Ushiro, such as a defense from having both arms grabbed, and a "Full Nelson".  The morning was capped off with a closed-fisted version of Kokyudosa, which took some getting used to after being taught so much to always keep ones hands open and fingers extended.

As always, the most interesting techniques to practice were those which need a great deal of blending with uke's energy from the get-go (as challenging as this may be for me at times) --- while we were practicing one of the Morotaedori Kokyuho techniques, for example, Sempai Jeremy shared with me a kind of "Aha" moment upon realizing that our movements serve to flow with uke's downward pressure on our wrist.  Granted, I was having some difficulty applying this for myself (particularly getting under uke's elbow), but it was a nice realization nonetheless. 

Hay Sensei took over the afternoon and taught an hour of Jo practice, during which we covered both some very familiar exchanges as well as a couple of "new" (to me) variations on them.  It's a shame that none of Niomba Sensei's students were able to stay for the afternoon --- they might have found our style of Jo an interesting contrast to Aiki-Jo.

All in all, the weekend was a great learning experience and a lot of fun on top of that --- we not only got to be exposed to some different ways of doing techniques but we got to meet and practice with some friendly new people.  I'm really glad our sensei is so open-minded about other Aikido styles and different martial arts...it's certainly a far cry from the attitudes of other teachers I've known. ]]></body>
	<date>04-25-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="604">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikikai/Iwama Gasshuku - Day One of Two]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The first morning of the weekend workshop was taught by our Sensei (Jon Hay), started things off with a rolling warmup that we've done in the past.  Techniques we worked on included: Katadori Kokyuho, Kaeshi Waza from Katadori Nikkyo, Yokomenuchi Shihonage and Kousadori Nikkyo, ending things with the usual Kokyudosa.  Although they were mostly familiar techniques, having the opportunity to work on them with a wider variety of training partners than usual --- adapting to their various body-types and energies is always an enjoyable (and sometimes even rewarding ;) ) challenge.  At the very least, "failure" brings to light areas for me which require more practice and/or an alternate tactic.

In the afternoon, Oto Niomba (sp?) Sensei led class with some Aiki-Ken basics and exchanges.  This was an interesting new experience for those of us from my clan --- especially getting used to having to pick up our feet after having been so used to sliding our feet around though I personally found the extra activity fun to do. :)  There was a lot of learning to adapt to the different details in sword motions, but it was just as interesting to learn the basic concepts behind them (such as "drawing in" the opponents strike --- which was essentially a form of blending in retreat); it was initially a little tough to (albeit temporarily) break the habit of extending forward to actually ensure that your strike would connect and replace this with sword movements that are more subtle, but after a few reps one just got used to it.

There was an interesting point made by one of my Sempais that weapons work is a nice way to end a long day of practice, when one might normally be quite a bit tired and less able to breakfall effectively.  Unfortunately, we couldn't exactly test this theory out since (due to space contraints) we hardly did any breakfalling at all.

A good day all in all --- looking forward to the new things that the next may bring... ]]></body>
	<date>04-24-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="602">
	<title><![CDATA[Finding My Yonkyo Again (A Dr. Jekkyl & Mr. Hyde k]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A Positive Note:
We did dive rolls for the warmup and I was (thanks to my ex-gymnast friend's advice --- see:  01-21-2004 entry, "Dive Rolls: A Conversation (of all things)" ) able to make it over two people comfortably for once --- yay me!  Next stop, three...

A Not-So Positive Note:
Sigh...while doing Shomenuchi Yonkyo in Suwari Waza with Sempai Jim --- I actually found it awkward, which surprised me.  And not in the nice kind of way.  Am I just out of practice, or am I holding back again (see:  12-03-2003 entry, "Hi. My name is Jamie, and I'm an...Overly-Sensitive Nage?" )?  Or is it a little bit of both?  Grr!  This old thing again! Sometimes I wish I could just go all-out and practice with full confidence, speed and extension without the worry of hurting someone else.  But then I suppose that just wouldn't be me.  On the other hand, I'm left constantly wondering whether or not I'm suppressing my full potential...am I really doing the best that I possibly can?  Am I so worried about Uke that I'm being overly-sensitive at the expense of my own development?

A (Relatively) Neutral Note:
re: Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kaiten-Iriminage -  I need to make going into the Iriminage part (from the initial turn) flow better.  I'm stopping at this part too much. ]]></body>
	<date>04-23-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="596">
	<title><![CDATA["Assembly-line" Tae Sabaki]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After tonight's Bokken practice (the usual kata and building on exchanges), we worked on a variety of body movements from mune-tsuki, shomen-tsuki and katadori, respectively.  

Later on, we all took turns filing through a six-person line (!) and being attacked in these three ways in quick succession, which was quite fun (when things ran smoothly).  Unfortunately, it was a rather convoluted way of running through a line and as a result tended to be confusing to some folks at times --- particularly in having to switch roles so often.  This said, I'm surprised that I was able to keep up as well as I did. :)

When things worked out, however, it was really nice --- I liked the flow of going from moving in response to one attack to another.  It was a good opportunity to apply what we were practicing, as well as reflexes and timing, not to mention the closest we've come to doing Randori in some time.  I swear, I'm suffering Randori withdrawal, big time.

On a side note, I really like the new layout here!  It's nice to be able to view more on a page at a glance, especially with the main journals page. ]]></body>
	<date>04-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="593">
	<title><![CDATA[Excuses, Excuses]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After Jo practice tonight (mostly 31 step kata, and some exchanges) we worked on:
- Katadori Kokyunage (?) in Suwari Waza (I don't need to duck that much, just enough to get my head under uke's arm, and then simply lean back)
- Mostly defenses from kicking for the rest of the class (a kind of ankle nikkyo from a roundhouse kick, a shove from a crescent kick/back kick combo, ankle Yonkyo ---yowch!--- from a front/snap kick, and a block/counter-kick combo from a roundhouse to the head)

The most obvious thing I found that I need to work on would be timing and body positioning, particularly from the crescent kick/back kick combo; for some reason, I was having difficulty in this area tonight although I could have sworn we've worked on this in the past and I didn't find as much trouble back then...sigh...easy come, easy go, I suppose.  We don't practice these techniques very often.

One thing I have absolutely no excuse for is my own lack of practice in kicking.  I just haven't been able to find the time to put it back into my regular habits lately (lack of space in this cramped apartment aside --- but I promised, no excuses...) and it's obvious that I need to.  I've got some basic kicking knowledge from the old childhood Sikaran days, and a decent balance, so I'd might as well build on it.

It's been a measly two day Aikido week for me too (due mostly to work commitments)...hopefully, it won't be a typical thing.  I swear, I'd go into withdrawal!  I think I already am...

On the sunny side of things, I'm looking forward to the Gasshuku/workshop we're hosting next weekend with a couple of other dojos --- should be an interesting time (not to mention a nice, six hour days kind of  Aikido "fix" ). 
 ]]></body>
	<date>04-15-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="586">
	<title><![CDATA[Scattered Notes (but hopefully, not scattered thou]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Hopefully for future elaborations (if I ever finally find more time!)  We've been doing a fair amount of new techniques (well, for me) lately...

Wednesday:
- started with Ushiro Ryotekubidori Jiyujinage (Suwari Waza); need to lean back at same time as push forward and also push forward and to the side more than upwards
- a variety of Kokyunage from Ushiro attacks (one-handed grab to the collar --- Japanese name unknown):  a couple of Kokyunages, another, very Judo-like throw that starts very much like Ushiro ukemi but ends with a rocking motion and a kick as you throw uke back over you 
Technique generalities/principles to remember:
- mostly moving at an arc to the side instead of straight back
- leaning forward with whole body to stretch uke out
- sinking hips during the turns into throws helps
- need to push harder :)

Thursday:
- Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza)
- a variety of techniques from Shomenuchi attack with an opening of moving to an outside block:  one that goes down like a Nikkyo Osae, another that goes into Yonkyo, and a Kokyunage (remember to sink down while using hips; it's more of a sideways torque on the arm) ]]></body>
	<date>04-09-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="582">
	<title><![CDATA[And so the Old becomes New again]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As there were (surprisingly) no newbies on the mats tonight, and just five students, we got to do a fair amount of bokken work that we probably wouldn't under normal circumstances.  To begin with, we spent a fair amount of time on the 13-step kata, especially practicing it at a quicker pace than usual.

For something new (to almost all of us tonight, it seemed) we also took turns learning and practicing a series of exchanges that utilized the kata while being attacked by two ukes.  This was quite interesting, as we all cycled out, having to learn the roles of two ukes as well as that of being nage.  In the end, it got quite enjoyable once we all got the hang of things --- a nice break from the ordinary, at least to me.

The latter part of class was spent on Tae Sabaki, as usual.  Wanting to get the most as I can out of the experience, I've decided to try to write about what I'm learning in this area as generally as possible in order to attempt to get to some fundamental understanding of these movements.  Writing down every minute detail of such exercises seems rather pointless in comparison to doing so for regular techniques.  So without further ado:
 
- Keeping one's elbows down and tucked in for the most part not only protects the ribs, but forces you to use your hips more than just your arms
- Movements are most effective here when they are short (yet still circular) as opposed to large, sweeping gestures
- Likewise, quick deflections (movements at sharp angles to strikes) that keep uke close are typically better than strong blocking motions (movements at wide angles to strikes) that push uke away beyond your reach
- Quick deflections (as above) are often, if not always, coupled with feeling uke's energy --- that is, through maintaining a continuous physical connection with them, and responding only to their own force/pressure on you ]]></body>
	<date>04-05-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="581">
	<title><![CDATA[Adapting to a New Teaching Style]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...all I can say is, thank goodness this won't be all the time. :)

On Last Night's Menu:

Appetizer - Katadori Nikkyo (Suwari Waza)
Main Course - Katatedori Iriminage
Dessert - Katatedori Kokyunage

Each technique was broken down into about 3 to four parts from start to finish, and each of these parts were in turn broken down so that we (in pairs) could, perform them to a count of two or three.

PROS:
- It's easier for newbies to get the order of the footwork and other movements down, especially with a technique that is new to them.
- I'm guessing that it also makes it easier for Sensei to make (and for students to understand) corrections, especially as things happen.

CONS:
- Since everything was broken down into segments, it was far too easy to get into the habit of moving in a broken-down, segmented fashion, even after we had brought it all together and tried to do the techniques with continuity.
- Folks like me who love the feeling of flow and blending with dynamic energy hate all the starting and stopping.  Things just feel stunted.

SWEAT FACTOR:
Minimal.  I didn't really feel like I earned my drink afterwards.  I'd rate it one and a half cups of water out of five. ]]></body>
	<date>04-03-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="578">
	<title><![CDATA[Oh Sweet Familiarity]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[How nice.  At least to help ya git yer Aiki-mojo back. :)

After Jo practice (13-step kata, and paired work), we started off my good old friend, Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza) as our appetizer last night.  Some fun to be had as uke for Dave and Ken...whet my appetite for the rest of the night, that's for sure.  

For the main course, we had some Katatedori Nikkyo and Kousadori Nikkyo, which was quite enjoyable (at least the adapting-to-newbie-uke's-energy part), in between shaking out your over-stretched wrists to relax them.  Mmm...Nikkyo...

Then for dessert, we had the usual Kokyu Dosa, which again is always fun when you've got a new, "differently-energied" training partner.

So the theme for tonight (I suppose so as not to confuse us further with more complex techniques) was the good old standbys --- but for me, there was also that wonderfully challenging twist that comes with having more new bodies on the mats.  And Nikkyo's always fun in and of itself.  Okay, at least for me, it is.  I think my ukes would have something rather different to say about it. ]]></body>
	<date>04-02-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="572">
	<title><![CDATA[An "Off" Day]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...well, sort of.  But I suppose everyone must have them, so it's about time I did too.

Things started out fine.  It was even a big class (for a Wednesday).  We began with Katatedori Shihonage (Hanmi Handachi Waza), and went on to something new: Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kotegaeshi (started static).  Fine, and fine.  Got the jist of it, and they felt alright.  But then when we went on to (or tried, rather) another new technique:  Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage (starting dynamic), things just fell apart for me.  All of a sudden, I wasn't sure which way to enter, and then my body positioning didn't feel right for the hand change.  Top this all off with my newbie training partner confusing the heck out of me even more by grabbing my wrists incorrectly at times, and having the dynamic energy of a brick wall, and you can see how my night ended:  even more muddled.  

With a more "pliable" uke and my own deduction, I can generally "feel" my way through a new technique such as this even if I don't get it spot-on --- with some flexibility and realistic attacking energy, one can usually rely on feel, logic and past experience/knowledge of similar techniques to "wing it" and head in somewhat the right direction, so to speak.  But no such luck this time.  Naturally, I laughed it off (as I do with just about everything), and uke at the very least found some amusement in my confusion.  

But enough negativity.  Putting myself down is just the easy route.  The tough part for me is thinking and talking about the good things.  

Hmm...

Um...my shikko and ukemi are decent.  

Okay, so we all gotta cling to something. :) ]]></body>
	<date>03-31-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="568">
	<title><![CDATA[Ryotedori:  More "New" Techniques]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The mats were pretty packed last night, especially during Jo practice.  We worked on a couple of interesting exchanges in pairs, one which had some rather counter-intuitive footwork.  I got so hung up on paying attention to footwork, that I inadvertently hit Sempai Tim on the hand --- luckily it wasn't very hard --- but I felt so bad...I sure as heck am going to make sure that never happens again.  I'm usually so aware of these things, you can imagine my frustration at making such a stupid mistake!  I simply hate the thought of actually hurting anyone like that.  It threw me for a loop, and took me a couple of minutes to get my focus back after that.  Poor Sempai Tim, it just wasn't his night --- I ended up not being the only one causing him accidents --- after that, he got hit on the hand (hard) by Sensei, got smacked in the face, had his hair pulled...

We later split into two groups, with Dave and the newbies practicing Kousadori Ikkyo, Omote and Ura, and the rest of us folks doing Ryotedori Kaitenage and Ryotedori Nikkyo; then everyone ending things with a Katatedori Kokyunage.

I was having some interesting difficulties with hand-changes and body positioning during both Ryotedori techniques.  For Kaitenage, it was mistakenly turning on the outside instead of the inside, as well as hand positioning during the cut downwards --- it wasn't until later that I found out that after starting with your hand on the inside of uke's wrist to raise his arm up, you then turn the same hand around on the outside to grasp uke's wrist for the final part of the throw.

With Nikkyo, I need to remember to step back at the end, and that I don't need to worry about grasping uke's thumb with the rest of the hand (as you normally would have to with the Nikkyos we've done before) --- grabbing his other four fingers together suffices quite nicely.  At least for me, having such small hands.  I don't know how it is for uke, though.  Looks kinda painful for him, if you ask me. :)   ]]></body>
	<date>03-26-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="564">
	<title><![CDATA[Putting Everything Back into Place]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Quote of the Day:
"Just a sec --- I just need to put everything back into place," --- Sempai Jeremy, as he groaned loudly and vigorously hopped up and down in place after taking a particularly jarring ukemi as Sensei's uke]

Last night, we worked on a variety of Kokyunage (about three different types, if I remember correctly) for the most part.  We'd practice a technique in pairs for a bit, and then we'd move on to applying it in a very Randori/Jiyu Waza-esque exercise:  we'd all form a circle and take turns being nage in the centre; nage would turn to each person and be attacked by them one at a time in quick succession for two rounds each.  We ended up doing this about three times, once for each different technique.  It was a nice, dynamic variation on our usual training style, albeit a rather tiring one for most.  By the end of the class, almost everyone had some aches and pains of some sort.  I knew that for sure, it would be a long soak in the tub that night for me.

My own aches were caused fairly early on in the evening, when taking ukemi for one kind of Kokyunage I don't recall having done before --- I don't know if it had to do with the fact that the throw was of the kind that had more torque or twist on it than usual, perhaps coupled with the fact that I'm so extremely light, but my knee would always hit the mat dead-on as I landed from the tobu ukemi.  Usually, I would just land on my side (which is more comfortable, being less jarring).  In any case, suggestions that came my way on how to avoid this included:
- thinking "forward"
- trying to get myself stretched out a little more
- relaxing more during the middle of the fall
Most of these, I thought I was making a point of doing, but who knows?  

There was also another factor that in retrospect, I had considered as well; one which has to do more with me once again being over-sensitive in that I'm caring more about inconvenience to another than about the repercussions to myself.  The whole knee-banging thing seemed to start after my uke at the time, Sempai Tim, had ripped his dogi sleeve almost completely off just below the shoulder --- in order to try to avoid ripping it more, I initially started grabbing this shoulder higher than normal (above the tear), and as there wasn't much to grab onto, I don't think I was getting a good enough grip to better control my falls on this side.  As a result, I was landing more sideways than forward, and I noticed that because I was apprehensive about ripping his gi more, I was also more hesitant with my own energy during my falls, which probably contributed to this.  I guess I started realizing that concern over such a trivial thing was a rather stupid thing to get myself hurt over, because I eventually started grabbing his shoulder below the tear again, even if it ripped his sleeve off more.

Sensei simply suggested more practice, and I know that we are told that one will only learn in this way, not by talking about it...but I refuse to disregard the value of introspection, especially when it is after-the-fact and doesn't interfere with one's training in the moment.  I simply can't help thinking about things in retrospect and evaluating what I am doing correctly and incorrectly and why, in order to "troubleshoot" my problems.  Socrates once said that "the unexamined life is not worth living", and I know that vision in hindsight is always 20-20, but this is for a very good reason.  I don't believe that one can ever truly gain a concrete understanding of one's knowledge, growth, or self-awareness without evaluating or questioning oneself.  I could spend forever doing something physically, but without ever considering how and why I do it, I would never have the ability to articulate what I have learned, even for myself.

Of course, this is most likely just the former-Philosophy major in me talking, but I sincerely believe in the importance of asking "Why?"  If only more folks would simply ask "Why?" more often, we probably could avoid a lot of bad judgments and solve (and prevent) a great many problems. 

So this is why I keep this journal:  for balance.  I train a lot, and I train hard --- so much so that when I get onto the mats, nothing else exists:  the troubles of work, family, friends, and many other commitments stay outside the dojo walls.  But I also need to learn for myself a great many more things about what I experience there.  This is just my way of working it all out in my head, at least while it's still functioning somewhat properly and is actually attached to my body. ;) And maybe, just maybe, in the process someone else might find a little bit of value in hearing about the sweaty, sometimes-wayward journey of one small Filipino woman learning a Japanese martial art with a bunch of (predominantly) white men.  At the very least, it might be good for some laughs. ]]></body>
	<date>03-24-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="560">
	<title><![CDATA[It's like Table Tennis, only your body's the ball.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday after Jo practice (mostly on the paired kata), we worked on some Kaeshi Waza/reversals, which I always thoroughly enjoy.  I guess I love the feel of the redirection of energy...at least I think that's what it is.  Which explains why I actually like doing ukemi --- okay, so my mind's totally sold on the idea (but I'm still trying to convince my body). :)

Alright, so let me correct that --- I like the feel of redirected energy in moderation.  Or so I found out very quickly last night.

The reversals were mainly from Yokomenuchi Shihonage (Omote) and eventually became Shihonage (oh, the irony of it) and Kotegaeshi for uke.  I was shown the true meaning of Kaeshi by Sensei, who provided quite a bit of amusement for everyone else by whipping me around and around in circles on the mat several times as I desperately tried in vain to circularly redirect his shihonage into a shihonage of my own.  After the dizzying ride was finally over, I could only laugh and say, "Point taken!"  Needless to say, the lesson was learned, and I now know to get in really close (pretty much hip-to-hip) to uke while coming around into shihonage with his arm to prevent my own centre being taken (for a ride around the room). ]]></body>
	<date>03-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="557">
	<title><![CDATA[The Wednesday Club]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Back again --- this time from just a small break due to a cold, which I'm just about over now.  I figured that I ought to finally smarten up considering what happened the last time I had a cold and tried to "play the hero" by not only coming to class to train but actually trying to practice at a seminar (June 2003).  The emphasis is on "try", and for a reason.  I learned my lesson --- was so completely bagged and miserable that I had to sit out for the afternoon of the last day and on the drive back, as Garry would later put it, the only indicator that I was still alive in the back seat was hearing the occasional cough from me.  I also figured that Sensei would appreciate my not spreading my germs around again (the last time, he avoided me like the plague --- pun intended --- for ages).

So I was back again for Wednesday night, which was a small class as usual, and of the usual suspects (just me, Sempai Tim and Sensei); I'm guessing this is due to most folks taking their own mid-week Aikido rest break that day.  This happens so often that I'm now calling Tim and I "The Wednesday Club".

Techniques we worked on:
- Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza)
- Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kaitennage [NEW! NEW! --- At least to me :)]
- Ushiro Ryotekubidori Nikkyo [ALSO NEW!  Yay!]

Thoughts:
Back to these technical notes again, since they ARE new techniques to me...good enough excuse :)

- On Kaitennage, I seem to be fairly successful thus far at stepping not straight back but more to the side to give more room between me and uke.  I do need to get more into the habit of:  keeping uke at arm's length during the throw; really pushing down on uke's head (I guess I am rather gentle at times) while simultaneously pushing upwards on his arm/wrist; I can also push more sideways to get him off balance if need be
- On Nikkyo, heck --- what is there for me to describe...it's all about feel on this one for me :)  More practice! ]]></body>
	<date>03-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="547">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally/Week's Summary for 03.08.04]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm rehashing this old ritual of mine because:
1. Pain, my old friend, is back again :)
2. I've been just too darn busy and tired with work, volunteering and everything else in my hectic life to write after every single class.  I would take notes and post a bunch of consecutive entries in a row for the past week, but I just realized that this in theory could unfairly bump off the "Most Recent Entries" list other peoples' entries that are just as, or even more, recent.
3. I figure, now that I'm officially in the triple-digits with my journal entries,  I'm sure that Jun would appreciate a little more brevity on my part --- I've no idea how many entries they expected to support with the Journals section... 

So here we go ---

Pains :(
- Let's put it this way...I can barely move without *something* aching (especially in the neck and shoulders area)

Gains: :)
- Four days of good practice (including a bokken and jo class)
- Definitely more good ukemi than bad; at least, folks told me it looked really good. With very few exeptions to this of the "oops --- I should have held on with the other hand, but oh heck, I'm in the middle of the fall" kind, it felt great while doing it.  Mind you, I had no idea that I'd feel like this afterwards, so maybe it wasn't really as good as I thought :( )
- I now know to always hold on with the lower hand (regardless of the technique).

Other thoughts/things of note:

It's becoming readily apparent that (particularly doing weapons work this week, but sometimes in general practice as well) that I need to use my hips more as a centre of power.  Since last week, I've been making a point of extending, but in the process seem to have largely forgotten about my hips --- which is only proven all the more by my hips being just about the only part of my body that doesn't ache right now. :) ]]></body>
	<date>03-13-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="535">
	<title><![CDATA[Tanto Revisited]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's techniques:

[Empty hand] 
- Katatedori Shihonage (Hanmi Handachi) to practice ukemi

[With tanto]
- Yokomenuchi Shihonage (Ura)
- Yokomenuchi Kokyuho (or was it Iriminage)?
- Tsuki Kotegaeshi

[Empty hand]  
- Katatedori Kokyunage

Thoughts:

I'm finding myself slowly becoming more and more aware of the position of the blade of the tanto in practice (particularly in keeping it away from myself).  I know this needs a lot of work on my part in the area of extension --- I've been so hung up on wanting to do techniques properly down to the last minute detail that I'm forgetting to extend (a generally bad idea when it comes to tanto waza --- an opponent would just have to resist and I'd pretty well be one sliced and diced Jamie). :(  I suppose my one consolation is in fact that I am still very much learning the form of technique --- I mean, I don't want to get ahead of myself --- but I still need to make a conscious effort to ensure that extension is there (along with all of the other fundamentals) as the foundation of all of my movements. ]]></body>
	<date>03-06-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="532">
	<title><![CDATA[Ushirorama]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight (aside from my re-skinning my knee yet again doing the shikko portion of the warmup), we worked mostly on Ushiro techniques, specifically:
Ushiro Ryotekubidori Iriminage (?)
Ushiro Ryotekubidori Sankyo
Ushiro Kubishime Iriminage (?)
Ushiro Ryokatadori Iriminage (?)
and 
Ushiro Ryotekubidori Kokyunage

I don't know why, but I always seem to find doing Ushiro techniques rather fun. I'm not sure if it's because timing is a little more of a challenge or maybe it's because a lot more leading and more blending tends to be needed when you can't completely see all of your attacker, or that you have to rely heavily upon feel instead of sight to maintain both...whatever it is, they're quite enjoyable to me. :)  
 ]]></body>
	<date>03-04-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="527">
	<title><![CDATA[Back on the (soft) Mats Again :-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Monday night we worked on Bokken kata (I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of the second last part of the eight directions kata --- albeit...slowly...); we also worked on our paired bokken exchanges more slowly in order to pay more attention to the accuracy and technical proficiency of our movements.  As a result, things felt a lot more "solid" --- it makes you wonder what I was in such a hurry about to begin with. :)  

We also did some shikko as part of the warmup (which very nicely aggravated my freshly-scabbed knees from the past weekend's seminar and left a trail of blood spots behind me as I went all around the mats) followed by Tae Sabaki for the rest of the night --- mostly against punches to the head (hooks, to be specific).

Apparently, an alternate meaning to "Tae Sabaki" has something to do with strategy, which is very interesting indeed.  When you say strategy, one typically thinks of that which has been planned or thought out a great deal --- something contrived or connived, if you will --- in anticipation of or in preparation for a particular, expected result.  

When we practice Tae Sabaki, however, I suppose because of its immediately practical applications (as opposed to its additional, extended applications as openings to lengthier Aikido techniques), I sometimes feel that it is not so much planned or thought out strategy, as its focus is meant to illicit a natural, defensive response in one's body.  But it is when I think of it in the sense of forcing (or rather, habituating) ourselves into becoming accustomed to reacting to certain attacks in certain ways, that I am made to think of this unifying of mind and body (or even the training itself) as a kind of strategy. ]]></body>
	<date>03-02-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="526">
	<title><![CDATA[Gokkyu (A Retrospective), aka WOOHOO!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I've been keeping track and writing this thing for about a year now, and I guess now's finally the time to finish it. :)]

From the very beginning, I've been trying to pay very close attention to detail. Every nuance of Sensei's moves is deliberate, and I need to continue catching the patterns in his movements. Slowly, I feel as though I am piecing together a very intricate puzzle bit by bit...

So what have I learned so far?

- To listen to my body.  That if a technique feels awkward or I feel even slightly off balance, I'm doing something incorrectly and need to make an adjustment.

- To have faith in myself.  I can get carried away by feelings of self-doubt, and I keep forgetting that inherently, my body knows how to move (as alluded to above) and what to do if I just listen to it.

- To breathe.  I mean, really breathe --- to pay attention to my breathing, which is not only relaxing, but gets me completely centred and focused in the moment.

- That it's not about perfection --- it's about who and where I am right now.  And that in itself is pretty darn awesome.  I always keep looking back, thinking, "it could have been so much better" --- and really, it always could be.  But you know what?  It's a long haul, but it *will* only get better.  (Thanks Carolynne!) :)

Stats/Little Milestones as of 02/28/04: 

Training w/current dojo since - January 8, 2003

Number of classes - 205?

Number of days extra training on the weekend - 5

Number of seminars attended - 2

Number of other dojos visited while travelling - 2

Number of classes at other dojos as visitor - 3 

Total number of hours training - Who knows?

Number of journal entries - 95

Number of hours of remedial massage - 4.5

Number of scrapes and bruises - Inumerable. Heck, my whole body feels just like one giant bruise sometimes 

Number of times my massive Yonkyo bruises freaked someone out - 2

Number of times toes got all banged up - Never stopped to count

Number of bloody noses - 1.0 

Number of other females who joined the dojo briefly and left - 3 *sniff* :0( 

Number of times that the first thing someone said when I told them I practice Aikido was, "Oh! Like Steven Segal!" - 2  ]]></body>
	<date>03-01-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="518">
	<title><![CDATA[Out of Sight, Out of Mind?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As I write this, I'm peeling off my much needed Salonpas patches (having first had a nice long soak in the tub --- they feel more effective afterwards) and am getting settled for the night.  I've been getting sleepy earlier these days (perhaps I'm still not quite over the jet lag), so journal entries have been rather short; I'll try not to make this one an exception (*yawn*).

It was a small class tonight, just me, Dave, Sempai Jeff and Sensei; but Wednesdays are generally quiet nights anyway.  It was also my last class before the seminar, as Dave and I have got this fundraising shindig to go to tomorrow night for the Women's Health Clinic, and we leave for Saskatoon on Friday at noon.  

I wanted to do a bit of an experiment and see (or not) how things would go if I didn't wear my contact lenses on the mats.  Result:  Contacts it is!  At least for the seminar and the test...after the first couple of techniques in the run-through, getting thrown by Sempai Jeff's footwork, and getting bonked on the head a couple of times as a result (I think more of it might have had to do with my getting thrown by having Sempai Jeff as uke for the first time (at least for test stuff; though I know, it shouldn't make a difference) Sensei told me to get my glasses, and after that it was alright again. :)

Eventually, I want to get to the point where I'm proficient enough that I won't need to wear contacts or glasses --- there are times when I'll do a class without them, and despite missing some details, I manage okay.  Dave was telling me how he read once that learning a martial art while wearing corrective lenses lets one focus on the details (which is important for me as a beginner while learning technique) yet learning a MA without them forces you to look at the "big picture" (which is just as important for me in order to learn better timing and improve my peripheral vision --- ahem --- *rubs her bonked head* :)).      

I wasn't paying as close attention to breathing as last time, so that was a bit of a (self-)disappointment.  Granted, I'm happy that I was calm enough not to break out into a nervous sweat like the time before that.  :)  Despite Sensei and Sempai Jeff telling me that I've got nothing to worry about, I still feel that it could have been a heck of a lot better.  Who am I kidding --- it can *always* be better, right?  

But I wonder if I was preoccupied with the thought that here was this Sempai who I've always looked up to a great deal from the very beginning, and he's actually being my uke; particularly after a long hiatus of not being around to see me progress, I guess I kind of felt a little pressure to make him proud.  Baka Jamie!  Focus!  *slaps herself upside the head* There...much better.   

You know what my problem is?  I think too much.  I've always got all of this stuff rattling around up here, and I don't trust myself enough to just let it go.  At least, when I SHOULD really let it go --- that is, in regards to the physical.  All of my negative self-talk just becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I know that.  I just have to stop second-guessing myself, and trust in where and who I am at this very moment. (Can't you just hear the New-Agey music and peaceful waves crashing in the background?)

Well, so much for a short journal entry.  Enough fuzzy stuff for now.  Time to kiss these soft mats goodbye!  I have to remember to, at Sempai Jeff's advice, tape my feet at Saskatoon since their mats are "like concrete" and will tear the flesh off them...mmm...bloody feet...We are just so spoiled with our nice cushy mats (as I found out in some Toronto dojos). :) I've also got an appointment later tomorrow afternoon for a remedial massage, which should loosen things up quite nicely, methinks.  I'm sure my arms and shoulders will thank me.  

Two days to the seminar, and I'm feeling...copacetic.  (Very satisfactory) ]]></body>
	<date>02-25-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="516">
	<title><![CDATA[Just Like Old Times]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's really good to see Sempai Jeff and Sempai Garry back on the mats again (even off and on) --- looks like they're recovering nicely.  We might even be seeing Sempai John E. out again in at least another 8 months or so.  The other day, it was the first time I'd been back at the "end of the line" again --- where all my sempais were folks from back when I first started.  It was a nice feeling, perhaps more than a little sentimental of me to say so, but it was like the old gang was back together again.  Silly, huh?

Over the past couple of days, I did a lot of practicing of Katatedori Koshinage (sigh...), along with some Yokomenuchi Shihonage, Shomenuchi Ikkyo, and Ushiro Ryotekubidori Ikkyo.  On the latter two, after I don't know how many reps, Ken and I simply had to lay off on doing the last part of the pin --- yowch, did it ever get nasty.  But it was reminiscent of the times in the past when we'd spend a whole night doing the same technique from different attacks.  Heh --- I feel bruised just thinking about it!   ]]></body>
	<date>02-24-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="510">
	<title><![CDATA[No go on the seminar...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I repeat:  a no go on the seminar.

Yup --- turns out that it's going to be NEXT weekend after all...Sensei's former Sensei gave him the wrong dates (the Regina seminar's this weekend).  

And Dave was all hyped up about it too.

As for me, well I've realized that as ready and gung-ho as I felt when I thought that I would be testing tomorrow, postponing it by a week or even for however long doesn't really matter --- I already know in my bones that I'm more than ready for this, so another week of practice can only make things better. :)  

I'm definitely willing to bet that Sensei and Sempais Jeremy and Tim are breathing a big sigh of relief in getting the extra week, for sure. ]]></body>
	<date>02-20-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="509">
	<title><![CDATA[One Day More, and Encouraging Beginners]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight we covered mostly basics and a piece of the 13-step kata during Jo practice for the benefit of our new student(s).  Afterwards, we did a variety of techniques from Katatedori:  Nikkyo, Sankyo, and Yonkyo.

Since half the class was made up of new students today, we each spent the night working with at least one of them at any given time.  There's one new student in particular whom Dave and I suspect isn't really enjoying himself, and is possibly there out of obligation --- so we've been trying to raise his spirits as much as we can.  

This young man will often get exasperated at himself for not getting something right and apologize a lot; he's also a pretty shy person to begin with, so I myself try to get him to smile by keeping things rather lighthearted (at least when I'm working with him) --- laughing at myself when something doesn't work out that well, etc.  I guess I just want to show him that the learning process (frustrating as it can be at times) can also be an enjoyable one, and that he should cut himself some slack (yes, I know...I should take my own advice, right?) :)

From speaking to Dave about this, we've both realized how we feel it's our duty to give beginners encouragement --- a positive experience that shows them how we have a comfortable and supportive environment to learn in, and that no matter how tough things may get, they should stick with it because it's worth it in the end.

One more day to the seminar, and I'm good to go! :) ]]></body>
	<date>02-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="506">
	<title><![CDATA[Feeling Back to Normal Again]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...and thank goodness. :)

I spoke to an older friend of mine at work yesterday about how things have been going, practicing for the Gokkyu test.  She's an energy healer and a former Shodan in Judo, and had some insightful things to say --- rather, she helped point me in the right direction.  

"This isn't about being perfect," she said.  "this is about where you are right now."  And she's right.  I realized that I needed to stop nitpicking and just let myself do what I naturally do, to the best of my ability.  "My body instinctively knows how to move when I'm completely focused," I said.  She then told me that I already know for myself the answer that I seek.  "So what do you need to do?" she asked me.  I paused and thought for a moment.  Then it occured to me.  All of a sudden, it seemed so simple.  I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed it before.  "I need to breathe.  I got all pent up yesterday during the test run-through because I stopped paying attention to my breathing."  

So I did.  We ran through my test first tonight.  And guess what?  It worked!  It no longer felt as labourous or clumsy as before.  It felt so...free.  And a couple of times, when things didn't happen with uke quite the way you'd normally expect, I laughed.  It was great!

For the rest of the night, I worked on Katatedori Koshinage [note to self:  remember to touch the floor with your free hand] with my Sempais (who practiced Shomenuchi Gokkyo in Suwari Waza on me --- aka "ouch, that's nasty!") and Katatedori Shihonage with our newest student.

Countdown:
Two more days to test time...and it's no longer me feeling like, "let's just get this bloody thing over with" --- I'm actually starting to look forward to it. :) ]]></body>
	<date>02-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="500">
	<title><![CDATA[Yet More C-C-Cold K-K-K-Keiko...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It was another freezing day in the dojo.  The mats were so icy that at one point, Sempai Jeremy's toes went white and he had to rub them during practice to get the circulation going again.

Dave and I went into the dojo about an hour early today to do more pre-test practicing, and it turned out that not only was Sensei there early, but incidentally, Sempai Tim popped by --- just in time to practice with me instead.  He'll be testing for Yonkyu, and so we alternated between my being uke for his Ushiro Ryotekubitori Kotegaeshi, Shihonage, and Shomenuchi Koshinage, and he being my uke for my Shomenuchi Sankyo and Katatedori Koshinage.

It turns out that with Sankyo, I've been holding uke's fingers differently all this time (though I could have sworn someone once told me to do it that way) --- instead, I need to initially grasp them so that the back of uke's hand is against my palm (not palm-to-palm, as I've been doing so far).  My timing on the Ura version of Sankyo could be a little quicker as well.

With Koshinage, I need to be perpendicular to uke, which means stepping further than his lead foot (something that I also could have sworn I noted before in this journal, but whatever).  I've also been standing straight too early --- I need to provide more of a rocking motion to start to get uke rolling over before standing straight again.

In any case, it was a great warm-up, and I stopped noticing how cold it was for some time afterwards.

Later, there was a point in time during class when I realized all of a sudden that I had become so focused on the moment and what we were doing, that I couldn't remember what techniques we had done just before.  I also paid more attention to breathing again during practice, and it seemed to help things flow more.  I'll have to try this while running through the test next time --- I think that it should help me feel more centered, and maybe even a little less tense.

Tonight, we worked on: Katatedori Shihonage (Ura only), Ryotedori Kokyuho, Katatedori Kotegaeshi, and Katatedori Kokyunage.

Methinks my Kokyuho could be a little more circular, and the same goes for my Kotegaeshi.  On this particular Kokyunage, I also need to tenkan properly, and remember that my cutting/throwing hand should end with my fingers pointing downwards (kind of like they are with Iriminage).

Other notes:
- don't forget to secure uke's shoulder before the Kotegaeshi pin
- Yokomenuchi Shihonage during the test always starts with Ura first, then Omote

Three days to the test and counting...and I still need to go over my old journal notes.  Dave suggested printing them off and reading them during the 8 hour drive out there, but I don't know --- there would be a heck of a lot to print off! ]]></body>
	<date>02-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="497">
	<title><![CDATA[Back Again and --- Gaaah!  Less than ONE week to t]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[While I was away from the home dojo for two weeks (and stuck without a viable surrogate one), I had to make due with going over the techniques for the entire test again and again in my head practically every day while was gone, and doing solo kata whenever I found the time and space.  While in the Philippines, I also found (er, improvised :))some interesting exercises along the way that I would never have expected:
- turning my foot outwards and using my hips more than just my arms while pumping water (for everything --- laundry, bathing, the toilet, cooking, etc.)
- keeping centred and rooting myself while riding in Jeepneys (bumpy and winding roads, sideways seating, and no seatbelts) instead of holding onto the handrail --- worked quite nicely
- testing my speed and awareness while dodging really fast traffic (mostly small, motorized tricycles) as a pedestrian (no crosswalks)

So by the time I got back into town, I was no longer as apprehensive as I was about my test when I left.  On Sunday (yesterday), Dave and I went into the dojo alone to do some practicing and we ran through my test.  Because of the height difference between us, Katatedori Koshinage was rather awkward (though fairly managable, particularly on one side but not so much on the other, for some reason).  This was amplified even more while running through the test for Sensei  today after Bokken practice, this time with Jeremy as my Uke.  He's a bit taller than Dave, and I couldn't even load him entirely onto my hips, so Sensei got Ken to be my Uke temporarily for that technique, since he's much closer to my own height.

Aside from the whole Koshinage fiasco, and Sankyo feeling rather awkward at times (need to practice this more --- serves me right for trying to mimic Sankyo from that darn Yamada video I watched this morning), the run-through seemed...alright.  Nothing spectacular, that's for sure.  I guess I was feeling the pressure of being on the spot, because afterwards, I felt like I had just stepped out of a sauna --- my face was actually tingling and emanating heat!  

Despite Jeremy telling me afterwards that it was a great test, and that Dave thought it looked quite smooth, I sure as heck didn't feel very happy about it.  THEY may have been fooled, but it won't be getting past anyone else --- it may have looked nice to folks for the most part, but it felt pretty sh*tty to me.  I know I flubbed up in a couple of places, and the perfectionist in me is far from satisfied.  I certainly have no idea what Sensei really thought about it.  I wonder if I'll really be testing at all.

In any case, I'm off to hit the books --- going to taint my technique even more by watching more Yamada, Saotome and O Sensei videos and going over my past journal entry notes... :D ]]></body>
	<date>02-16-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="477">
	<title><![CDATA[Hiatus?  Eek...just a few weeks to test time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Due to a death in the family, I'll be in the Philippines until February 13th...I'm bringing my Gi along just in case, but so far I haven't found (at least on the 'Net) a dojo in San Fernando, La Union (where my family is from) --- there's at least one in Baguio (an hour away) and loads in Manila (5 hours away) --- keeping my fingers crossed.  

I guess I'm a little apprehensive about being away for so long; by the time I get back, it will only be another two weeks until the seminar in Saskatoon and my Gokkyu test...on the one hand, if I find a dojo, I can keep things up, right?  It could also be a bit of catharsis (or perhaps even more, a kind of escapism), which I need right about now.  On the other hand, depending on the school I find, what kind of bad habits might I pick up from them, pre-test?  (After all, I've only been training for a little over a year --- not long enough, I suspect, to have developed many good habits...)

Sigh...maybe I'd better just stick to going through kata over and over in my head like always.  I've printed off a list of the Gokkyu test requirements and have been using this to run through everything with my own imagination.  In this, I've found that my own imagination is still not sufficient; there are still techniques that I have trouble picturing from start to finish --- I guess we could chalk this up to my lack of experience as well.  I know Sensei recommended going through the kata physically on your own, but from my miserable attempts at this in the past [see:  "Solo Saturday Keiko" - 11-24-2003] I wonder how effective this will be for me, and if it might even compound the bad habits I already have...

I wonder how many thousands of reps of doing a technique it will take before I can actually remember it completely from start to finish in my own imagination and be able to actually do it alone as a kata without a partner?  I wonder if it's not too late to start counting now? ;) ]]></body>
	<date>01-27-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="474">
	<title><![CDATA[Breaking Bad Habits and Such]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...technique-wise, that is.

Thursday night after Jo practice, we revisited Ushiro Ryotekubidori Ikkyo again.  It was a nice opportunity to continue fine-tuning things, and as is always the case on such occasions, I learned about a few extra details that make things a little easier for myself --- such as:
- Sempai Jeremy drew my attention to arranging my hands during the initial sweep downwards and back into a similar position to that during Kokyudosa in order to make things more awkward for a taller uke (in this case, him)
- sliding backwards once uke's arm is in front of me
- getting my hip right into uke's side/armpit for better control while bringing him down and into the pin

Stuff re: the pin --- and all this time, I thought it was against the elbow!  Poor uke...it's actually on the muscle just above it; when I do it correctly (rarely :) ) I feel like the side of my hand fits into a groove as I roll it forward.

Last night (Friday) was spent working on Shomenuchi Shihonage.  I need to remember that the hand that torques uke's is the one that initially cuts his down.  

I also have this bad habit of sliding back as I complete the turn into the throw (thus negating the effect of the tension on uke's arm that would typically take his centre).  I got to work on this a lot, taking it in stages and going slowly --- but I still don't feel like it has made much progress.  My ukes seemed to think it has, but I personally couldn't feel a difference. :( ]]></body>
	<date>01-24-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="470">
	<title><![CDATA[Dive Rolls:  A Conversation (of all things)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I know this is a bit of a departure, particularly in format...but what the heck --- I'm too busy to change it right now!  Maybe in future I'll have the time to condense this into an easy-to-reference point form, but for now...   

I needed some tips on dive rolls, so I asked a friend of mine who was both a gymnast and a Rhythmic Gymnastics coach...thing is, last I was able to speak to her, it was on MSN. :D

Jamie says:
Hey Kelly
Jamie says:
You got a second?
KellyGirl says:
hi, i do
Jamie says:
You're just the person I wanted to ask something to...
Jamie says:
(bad English)
KellyGirl says:
sure thing, what's up
Jamie says:
When you were doing gymnastics, did you guys ever do any dive rolls?
KellyGirl says:
yeah, all the time
KellyGirl says:
(i'm so curious right now)
Jamie says:
Well, we do dive rolls in Aikido,
Jamie says:
and I'm fine with regular rolls, but being such a petite/short person,
Jamie says:
I guess I don't have much confidence w/the rolls where we dive over multiple people
Jamie says:
and was wondering if you might have any pointers for me  
Jamie says:
Last night I did dive rolls over two crouching people side by side for the very first time
Jamie says:
and the landing was rather...bumpy, but I made it  
KellyGirl says:
well, it's been a while   but
Jamie says:
Most of the guys are taller, so they can do dive rolls over up to 4 people  
Jamie says:
Next time, I'm going to try three, but I'm a little doubtful...
KellyGirl says:
the trick to any tumbling is to aim for the sky (cheasy way we teach it)
KellyGirl says:
in other words, don't aim for the floor where you will land
Jamie says:
so you mean, try to get a big arc on it?
KellyGirl says:
worry about getting up in the air first
Jamie says:
okay
KellyGirl says:
yip, exactly
KellyGirl says:
then just keep your elbows slightly bent and absorb all your weight from landing on you arms and not on your neck or back
Jamie says:
this might help me try to actually make the ones where you dive roll over a standing person bent over the waist 
Jamie says:
(on that one I have never managed going over them fully, just diving over their backside)
KellyGirl says:
we've done up to 12 people, and most gymnasts are short so don't be afraid.  YOU CAN DO IT!!!!!!
Jamie says:
(actually, I've never even tried going over them fully --- I just assumed I wouldn't be able to make it   )
Jamie says:
Thanks Kelly --- I'll definitely keep that in mind!  I had no idea!
KellyGirl says:
the hardest part is the fear of landing, but if you just think about jumping instead landing comes next naturally, what comes up must come down!
Jamie says:
I think another thing that might be making things bumpy at the end is that I'm letting my arms collapse instead of keeping them both slightly bent and extended.
Jamie says:
That should help --- I'm actually proficient at regular rolls (not having to dive over people and then roll)
Jamie says:
but I guess my only fear is falling on top of the person  
KellyGirl says:
to help the bumpiness, also keep the momentum going, make sure one leg is tucked under (hard to explain) so you will naturally roll up to a standing position and not try to stop the momentum cold.
KellyGirl says:
you can't hurt them by falling on them!  keep that in mind.
Jamie says:
That's cool...re: the bumpiness, you're actually giving the same advice we have to keep in mind for our regular forward rolls, or "mai ukemi"
Jamie says:
I guess a lot of this does hold true universally  
KellyGirl says:
it's a whole lot of physics, laws of motion etc!
Jamie says:
So do you have any tips on how the best way to leap would be (ie. off one leg, both?)
KellyGirl says:
ps- i know some tiny girls who could probably clear waaaay more people than the guys, could be you next!
Jamie says:
Hehehe --- we'll see!
KellyGirl says:
well, i guess it depends what kind. anything that is a leap is off of one foot and anything that is a jump is off of two feet
KellyGirl says:
so...
Jamie says:
oops, sorry --- wrong terminology
KellyGirl says:
leaping is more for a combination of distance and height where as a jump is mostly just height
Jamie says:
so for dive rolls, which is more effective?
KellyGirl says:
hey, no problem.  that's just the way we sort everything out, it's all the same thing though
KellyGirl says:
two feet i would say, because you're landing on your hands and not your feet, so it's a different theory
KellyGirl says:
  confusing
Jamie says:
Would I be correct then, in assuming that for the dive roll over the standing person, the "jump" is better, but for the dive roll over multiple crouching ppl, the "leap" would work better?
KellyGirl says:
not really, leaping is mostly for if you are landing on one foot or two feet.  we only do dive rolls from standing on two feet, i haven't really tried it from one.
KellyGirl says:
but the power from both legs would be better than the momentum of running and taking off from one
Jamie says:
Hmm...so you don't recommend getting a running start on it?  
Jamie says:
hehehe --- answered my question
KellyGirl says:
we do it, because it feels safer
Jamie says:
which --- with running or without?
KellyGirl says:
but it actually takes more force away from the next move if you take a running start, because you have to change the momentum (running start)
Jamie says:
ah!
KellyGirl says:
so much to know...
Jamie says:
That explains why I feel a strange momentary jolt of awkwardness transitioning from the run into the jump
KellyGirl says:
it's true.  but we still do most things from running because it feels less scary.
Jamie says:
With a running start, I'm assuming you really don't have much choice but to leap off one leg, right --- otherwise it would kill the momentum to go to a jump w/both?
KellyGirl says:
um try both ways and see which one feels better
KellyGirl says:
just gotta get the rhythm
Jamie says:
okay
Jamie says:
will do --- thanks!
Jamie says:
oh, one more thing ---
KellyGirl says:
sure
Jamie says:
when you mentioned aiming to get up as high as possible, and not aiming for the ground in front of you,
Jamie says:
are you to aim up vertically (90 degrees) or at a lesser angle than that
Jamie says:
like 45 degrees?
KellyGirl says:
good question, a good guide to throwing anything works with jumping too, point you hands to where you intend to go.  so you would point them to the halfway point of the roll and to the heigt you want to jump 
KellyGirl says:
maybe that makes sense?
Jamie says:
that makes perfect sense --- because naturally, I wouldn't be jumping straight up for a distance roll  
KellyGirl says:
there ya go
Jamie says:
Thanks again, Kelly!
KellyGirl says:
not a problem
Jamie says:
See ya at the brunch!
KellyGirl says:
good luck with the rolls!
Jamie says:
thanks! ]]></body>
	<date>01-21-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="468">
	<title><![CDATA[The Strangeness of Being...a Sempai]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I know it's been a little over a year now, but the role-reversal still feels weird.  After all, I've spent the vast majority of that year or so as a Kohai to most of the class.  But tonight we just had Sempai Jim come out for Bokken practice, and then afterwards it was just me, Dave, Ken, and the two new students for Tae Sabaki.

Thankfully, the three of us "substitute Sempais for the night" were made to alternate as Sensei's demonstration uke.  I think he caught on after the first time I was uke for him tonight that I am still not used to having to learn a technique solely from that perspective yet...and to think, just a year ago, I used to wonder why my own Sempais would stand there for a minute thinking, "Now what do I do?" after being Sensei's demonstration uke. :)

I realize now just how spoiled I was. :D  Being a Kohai was so easy...all I had to do was just what I wanted:  to concentrate on my own learning.  There were no real expectations of you other than that you tried your best (and didn't hurt anyone in the process).  You didn't have to really watch over anyone else's learning or --- as I'm finding myself --- worry about doing something correctly so that you can be a good example.  

Tonight, for the very first time since --- well, NEVER, in my whole year here, Sensei told me to relax.  And I am *always* relaxed.  I'm usually relaxed to a fault (ie. limp ukemi, or being a very casual attacker as uke).  But tonight, for just a little bit, I was actually a little nervous.  I don't mean the kind of nervous I got when I did my first run-through of the Gokkyu test [see: "A Mini-Milestone...of Sorts", 01-10-2004]--- a different kind.  I wish I could put my finger on it.  I had just been uke for Sensei, was pumped with adrenaline, and had been taking ukemi rather miserably (except for maybe one happy landing).  I felt...pressure.  I guess pressure is a better word to describe it.  It was the pressure of having to be an example, the pressure of knowing you have eyes on you --- eager eyes that are depending upon the correctness of your every move...

Okay, enough of that!  I'm just making it worse by dwelling on it.  Sigh...time to suck it up and realize that it's my turn to be a Sempai.  I guess I can't be the "baby" of the dojo forever, huh? :)  I have to recognize that I am growing --- maybe even too big for my own britches sometimes, but still growing --- and it's high time I started "acting my age" on the mats.  That means learning to be more responsive as Sensei's uke and ready to take ukemi for whatever he throws at me (no pun intended), and learning to...well, learn all over again from a different perspective.  

I suppose I can rest assured that all of this simply takes practice and a great deal more experience than I've got under my (comparatively clean, white) belt so far, and that this will all come in time.  ]]></body>
	<date>01-19-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="465">
	<title><![CDATA[A New Technique, A New Technique!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, new to me at least.  Yippee!  Ahem --- I mean, how nice.  I know most folks around my level would be thinking, "nice to what?  Feel even more uncoordinated than usual?" --- but I don't know, I just feel like new techniques to me are this breath of fresh air once in a while, something to make the complacent mind have to think in a different way instead of go into Autopilot...that sort of feeling.  Laugh if you will.  It makes perfect sense to *me*.  :)

We learned (er, rather, started learning, hehehe) Katatedori Hijinage (sp?), which reminded me a lot of Kaitennage.  It's the kind of technique that you can tell is supposed to be nicely leading and circular --- if only I could get it to be as nicely leading and circular as I can imagine it to be...my best guess is that maybe I'm relying too much on how it looks (whether or not it looks circular) and not enough on how it actually feels.

We also practiced Ushiro Rytekubidori Ikkyo (another interesting coincidence, or do I have an angel looking out for me? *chuckle* :D), thanks very much!  Now I actually know which way to step initially --- well, it's based on the premise that your uke mimics your stance.  When he doesn't, things get rather...awkward, as I soon found out.  When it comes to more resistant ukes, I was also told that I can lean into him to get control of his elbow before gaining control of his hand with my other hand --- also very helpful.

Which reminds me, speaking of leaning, I'm still weighing the pros and cons trying to decide who to ask to be my uke for the test.  In regards to resistant ukes, perhaps the path of least resistance would be best after all. ]]></body>
	<date>01-17-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="461">
	<title><![CDATA[A Mind-Blending Exercise? :-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Also known as:  Going from frustration to...innovation ;)

Well, I can't complain --- tonight we coincidentally (or perhaps not) got to work on a couple of things that were on my little list of things to improve for the Gokkyu test, specifically:
Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza) and
Shomenuchi Shihonage

The Sankyo hand change is starting to feel smoother and less awkward, yay!

I still can't believe that I forgot how to do Shomenuchi Shihonage --- I guess it had been some time since we got to practice it.  Little things to fine-tune include anticipating uke's fall forward and throwing not only down, but outwards at the same time so that I don't end up thrown forward and off balance like...ahem...usual. :)  Also, finding that I don't have to really swing out with uke's arm on the ura version seemed to help quite a bit as well.

We have a couple of new students, and as one of them is quite naturally strong, he has a tendency to physically resist technique (not surprisingly, both of them do --- despite repeated attempts by Sensei to get them to attack with their whole centre instead of just...standing there).  Well, I was speaking to one of my Sempais, and he expressed some frustration at the difficulty in trying to practice techniques with one of them; naturally, being a smaller person, I also would find the same frustration on occasion, but as of tonight I realized something quite interesting that I ended up telling him about after class was over. 

I found that as I was practicing Kousadori Nikkyo with one of them, and his natural response to this was to repeatedly lock his elbow out and pull back in a defensive manner (as opposed to more realistically bending his elbow and coming forward to attack), that instead of being frustrated about not being able to practice the technique properly, I was starting to think about what different technique I could theoretically apply to adapt to uke's given energy.  The first thing that came to mind was Ikkyo, taking advantage of uke's already straight arm (my Sempai later also suggested perhaps Yonkyo might work as well).

In any case, this definitely made me feel a lot better --- it was one of those "Aha!" moments that prompted a lot of idiotic grinning on my part and ultimately Sensei's teasing, but whatever. :D  

I guess I should also have asked the new student to attack more realistically as well (granted, I didn't find the words to describe why at the time and timing is indeed everything); the other thing is, I'm still also very hesitant to give advice unless it's asked for or it seems that the person is stuck in a rut...it's a tough call.  When in doubt, I usually just shut up, though sometimes I wonder if this is a good thing. ]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="449">
	<title><![CDATA[A Mini-Milestone...of Sorts]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, a year ago yesterday marked my first day with this dojo, and tonight I had my first in-house run through of the Gokkyu test requirements.  

Since it was just me, Sensei, and Sempai Tim (who was my uke) we ran through the whole thing semi-formally and for some reason I was actually a little nervous at first.  I guess it was enough to throw me off initially, because I flubbed up on the very first technique by letting Tim smack me in the head :D --- I was expecting him to come at me Shomenuchi with his other hand!  Sigh...I think it must be Karma catching up with me [see entry: "Oh the Violence of it All :-D" 11-20-2003]. 

Thankfully the rest wasn't all that bad, and Sensei said that my test would be considered a pass ("not a spectacular pass, mind you, but a pass").  Despite this, one thing that I can be somewhat happy about is that he thought that I had a speed and flow beyond Gokkyu that he says Kawahara shihan will appreciate.  Okay, yay for me.  Now that that's said and done...   

There were a couple of things that we hadn't done in awhile that obviously needed more work.  I need to improve my: 
Katatedori Koshinage (no big surprise there) 
- I'm stepping in too deeply --- my foot should be no further than the inside of his lead foot
- my hips should be in right against uke's
- I should constantly be looking at my lead hand prior to the throw, which should be up and parallel with my body (not at an angle from it in front)

and 

Ushiro Ryotekubidori Ikkyo,
- I need to bring my hands right into my centre at the start
- I still need to be able to differentiate which side to move to when I bring uke's arm over me...is it the inside or the outside?  Help!  I don't know!  Aaaargh! 

as well as the Sankyo hand-exchange in general (also need to remember that in the ura versions of this, the hand controlling the elbow is in a "thumb-on-the-outside" position). :-P  

I was also mixing up the ura and omote versions of Yokomenuchi Shihonage.  It's a little counterintuitive actually, in terms of how they start, since I need to remember that:
- the omote version starts out by blending/"catching" the strike further along (and of course ends with taking it straight in front of uke), and
- the ura version starts by meeting the strike directly (and then of course taking it around to the rear) 

On top of all this, I'm apparently allowed to pick my uke and I'm having a bit of a time trying to decide.  It's kind of like being caught between Scylla and Charibdis, actually.  Or maybe a tasteful :D (and only somewhat tactful) egg analogy would be better.  There's:

1) Well-Done But Slightly Cracked Uke
2) Scrambled Uke, and
3) Over-Easy Uke

Tough choice.  What I wouldn't give for a nice Soft-Boiled Uke right about now... ]]></body>
	<date>01-10-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="440">
	<title><![CDATA[Sorting Things Out (but what else is new?)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night, we started by working on Shomenuchi Nikkyo (Suwari Waza), and I made a conscious effort to drop my centre while leaning towards uke's centre during Nikkyo; though I still need to remember to do the "snakebite" thing with my hands (for lack of a better explanation --- heck, *I* know what I mean, so good enough! ;) )  

My Sempais worked on Tsuki Kaitenage for most of the night (I think my ukemi is getting better for this, though as one Sempai advised, I still need to shift my weight forward into the roll out instead of stepping forward with my rear leg --- doing the latter seems to throw things off for him).  In the meantime, I worked on Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi.  Apparently, it is "test ready" --- well, according to Sensei it is, although I still need to fine tune it some more.  Namely:
- remembering that the atemi isn't really necessary unless uke stops
- Kotegaeshi itself, the "waterfall" motion in an arc; dropping my centre in a movement that turns away from uke while keeping my arms straight and not using my wrists so much
- making sure that uke's shoulder is down on the mat and his elbow is controlled prior to the pin
...in other words, it may look "test ready", but in reality, it needs a heck of a lot more work! :)

We finished things off with one of the Shomenuchi Kokyunages, and Sensei told me and my Sempais that we should be ready to test at the next seminar (either February in Saskatoon, or in May) and that we should gear our training from now on with this mindset.  In other words, by concentrating on techniques we don't feel that secure with.

So my next thing for me will be to go over the test requirements and run through the techniques in my mind (as well as searching through this journal --- handy, isn't it?) to determine what still needs more work.  I'm sure there'll be quite a lot.  But that'll be for another entry...   ]]></body>
	<date>01-07-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="437">
	<title><![CDATA[Looking Back]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Please bear with me while I ramble on incoherently for a bit.  I often like to think that it helps with where you're going to look back and remember where you've been...]

I'm not normally one to get particularly sentimental over such things, but rather pensive instead.  This month brings a couple of "anniversaries" to mind:  one that marks my first complete year of Aikido training (as well as when I first started with this current dojo), and one that marks the month I last stopped (back in January of 2000).  Both significant to me.  Both had to happen.  I think looking back helps put things into perspective.

I was going through some of my old writings from four years ago, trying piece together memories of the person who I was when I first started Aikido.  You never really remember all of the details.  It's the feelings that stand out the most.  

I remember falling in love with Aikido, with the graceful, dance-like movements, and particularly with the philosophy behind it.  I had just switched my undergrad major over to Philosophy, and everything just seemed to finally cohere with the path I was taking.  I remember being the only female student (nothing new there, considering I still am, only in a different place).  I remember eventually becoming the only student.  But I didn't care that I was alone, I was just really eager to learn.  

My first teacher was very enigmatic, very formal, and very serious.  He never smiled on the mats, and neither did his senior student, who would occasionally come by to help him teach. Initially, I remember appropriating this and being all serious on the mats when I first started with my current dojo.  I think that I wanted to show that I was serious and disciplined, but it ended up having a different result.  My new Sensei, struggling to find a good way to describe my expression, could only come up with, "not quite dour".  A couple of Sempais commented that one day if I ever became a teacher, I would scare students just with my demeanor.  Suffice it to say, I gave up on the stonefaced look.  These days, you'll find me laughing on the mat more often than not.  I think that over time, the folks at my home dojo have got some inkling that I'm serious and disciplined enough as it is by my actions alone, without the need to see me turn into a veritable statue in seiza.  So I tend to save the old expression for seminars or travelling to other dojos --- I figure it's okay to freak those folks out. ;)

[Thanks for sticking it out through my little digression! :)  I may add more later as I remember things.]   ]]></body>
	<date>01-05-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="434">
	<title><![CDATA[Training in Toronto:  Overall Impressions and Thou]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[First of all, let me begin by saying that for all intents and purposes, I will only give an account here of my experiences from my perspective as a student, insofar as how these affected my own learning.  Though I have been asked to do so, I do not believe that any generalized or comparative assessment that I might make of a teacher's Aikido technique in itself can truly be considered reliable since I am simply not at a level of ability or knowledge in this art to do this with sufficient discernment.  This said, it is for this reason that I will only go so far as to compare teaching styles and methods at this time in the hopes that even though I will disappoint some, I might be of help to others. :)]

Initially, I found myself experiencing a bit of apprehension upon going into two new schools as a visitor; you could almost call it performance anxiety to a certain extent :) --- a slight worry that I might really slip up big-time, make a stupid mistake and embarrass my home dojo.  When I thought of it this way, I felt like I ought to make a really good impression, as if I were representing my school in a sense.  Thankfully, folks were so welcoming that it would help put me right at ease.

Once on the mats, adaptations had to be made right away...literally.  At both schools, they had the thinner, more dense kind of foam mats, and having trained on ones twice as thick at the home dojo for so long I naturally had no idea how drastic the difference would be.  From my very first roll, I could feel that I would have to make a great many adjustments --- the "bumpiness" of my rolling became quite apparent --- the mats certainly weren't as forgiving as the softer ones from the home dojo.  :)  But then, I also realize that considering we do so much more breakfalling and ukemi practice in general at our dojo than they seem to do at the others, having the softer mats at ours definitely makes sense.  Oh, which reminds me --- although my rolling didn't feel up to par initially, I guess my breakfalling must have been alright because I got complimented on it quite a bit (should make my Sensei proud :D). 

I guess it would be nice to have even just a strip of the harder kind of mat at the home dojo, say along the edge of the regular ones, for example, to practice on just to get used to rolling on and adapting to a different-feeling surface more often.  In future, upon coming to a place with a different type of mat, I would definitely take some time initially to get a few practice rolls in just to make my adjustments beforehand and get used to rolling on the new surface.

What wasn't much of a surprise was the differences in teaching styles I encountered: some being more or less verbose than others, some being more or less physically-demonstrative, others being the kind that would rely more on arranging the student's body into the correct form or posture.  I'm guessing that reliance on this latter kind of teaching stems a great deal from a language barrier (be it natural or imposed), in contrast with the more verbally-descriptive style of teaching that falls back on this physical arrangement rarely, and more as a last resort (when all other methods of relaying information fail/are misunderstood).  

Although I'm aware that simply putting the student into position may be an easier way of showing them correct form (especially with a blind or visually-impaired student), I personally found it more difficult to retain a memory of how to put myself back into that position afterwards.  I believe that the body retains a kind of memory of its own, in which it keeps record of the way certain movements and positions feel.  When you are given the ability to move yourself into a different position (either from auditory or visual instruction), it seems to create a distinction between these in your mind because you consciously make the decision to move and can pay attention to how it felt to move; whereas when someone else does the moving for you, your impulse is to pay more attention more to what they are doing instead of how you feel.  Or at least this is my best guess as to why this is the case. :) ]]></body>
	<date>01-01-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="433">
	<title><![CDATA[Training in Toronto:  Toronto Aikikai (Day 2 of 2]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Apologies for the delay --- I was travelling yesterday and didn't have Internet access until today...which reminds me:  Happy New Year, everyone!]

What better way to spend one's last night in town?  It was with feeling a certain level of completion and connection within that I leave here.  Overall, training at both dojos and with two other, different teachers has given me much to think about, and I hope to soon write another entry on my general impression of the experience as a whole.

My last day training at the Toronto Aikikai started off very nearly the same as the last:  with Taenohenko (the one I was familiar with, suprisingly), which later would become the "newer" version in which you turn 180 degrees --- I guess I must have somehow managed to finally get the hang of this and a couple of other techniques (like the one that led uke downwards from Katatedori) we repeated again today, as they got the nod of approval from Zimmerman Sensei...

We continued to work on both Kousadori Iriminage, and Ryotedori Iriminage.  This being a much larger dojo, the mats were naturally rather crowded, and with these particular techniques, it became quite the task to find space in which to move and throw freely.  Actually, I was a little suprised that some students, depsite obviously having had to at some point get used to training with so many other bodies on the mat, were not more conscious of their own space...but of course we all have our own little idiosyncrasies, I suppose. :)

The rest of the class was devoted to working in lines, just like yesterday's class, doing another (again familiar) kind of Kousadori Kokyunage --- during which Zimmerman Sensei showed me to not only let uke grab my wrist palm-up (which should sweep across and down palm-down) but to also move from palm-up to palm-down while executing the throw (leaning forward into uke's elbow).  The other throw we worked on in a line was from Katatedori and (I believe) it involved Sankyo --- I only say "I believe" because with the group I worked with, it wasn't readily apparent that everyone was doing Sankyo...everyone seemed to be doing something slightly different, and as no one corrected them, I really have no idea what way would be considered the correct way, or even if it indeed was Sankyo ---  though it certainly looked like it when it was demonstrated. (Sorry!) :(

I guess this is just another unfortunate consequence of having such larger classes...this wasn't the first time I noticed that some folks would be doing the technique quite a bit differently and yet none were corrected on it.  With a larger teacher to student ratio, I suppose there's always a greater possibility that someone will "slip through the cracks", so to speak.

All in all, it was fun and once again it was good to connect with so many different aikidoka, this time in a much larger school --- and especially with other women, being few and far between (at least in my own limited experience).  Aside from being very helpful yet again, Zimmerman Sensei was also kind enough to let me sit in and watch their Iaido class afterwards, and it was quite interesting to see...it seemed so very elegant an art --- I would love to try it one day --- unfortunately, I don't know of anyone in Winnipeg who teaches it. :(

[I'll most likely be back online again either later today or tomorrow not only to sum things up about the trip, but to report on tonight's New Year's Day (Misogi) practice.] ]]></body>
	<date>01-01-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="429">
	<title><![CDATA[Training in Toronto:  Toronto Aikikai (12.29.03 -]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight was quite enjoyable --- despite being a couple of minutes late (shame on me :( ) due to having written down that the class would start at 7:30pm, not 7:15pm --- I certainly won't be making that mistake again.

Being a visitor, I initially felt a little self-conscious, but after getting some breakfalls in, I felt right as rain.  We started things off with a form of Taenohenka that I wasn't familiar with (not a surprise) in which you pivot 180 degrees after the Tenkan.  This was followed by another couple of techniques from Katatedori and Kousadori that I had never done before, and thus would be rather difficult to describe properly here without a visually-demonstrative aid (sorry!).  What I can tell you about them is that they involved absorbing and leading uke's energy down towards the mat while moving such that they lost their centre forwards (if that makes any sense).  Oh --- and one of the techniques also ended in a Nikkyo pin.

We spent the rest of the class working on several (more familiar) forms of Katatedori Kokyunage while grouped in several lines.  

Sensei Robert Zimmerman was quite helpful, particularly with the earlier techniques that I wasn't familiar with (it also helped that I just so happened to be paired up with some relatively inexperienced aikidoka at the time, so we got a little more attention because of that).

Once again, it was nice to meet other female aikidoka on the mats (I guess it's still such a novelty to me! :) )  Tonight, women made up roughly one third of the class, and apparently 12 or so of their total 60-70 students are female.   I had gotten so used to being the only one for so long, I suppose I had forgotten what dressing room chitchat was like.

I'll definitely be going back again tomorrow night for another class (it's my last night in Toronto), and afterwards they'll be having an Iaido class that I can sit in and watch --- I'm really looking forward to it. ]]></body>
	<date>12-30-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="428">
	<title><![CDATA[Training in Toronto:  Aikido Tendokai]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yup, just lil ol me comin' atcha live from the big T.O.  Please bear with any spelling errors or typos I make in this entry, as I am at an Internet Café and due to the time constraints won't be proofreading this one as much (for the time being).

It's been a great, and I'm pretty well run off my feet from tramping around all day, but it's a satisfying feeling nonetheless.  This morning, I trained at Aikido Tendokai with Yumi Nakamura Sensei --- they've got a nice group of folks practicing there out of the University Settlement Recreation Centre.  

First off, I had never seen so many female Yudansha gathered together in one room before.  Coming from a generally all-male (me being the one exception) dojo, this was nice to see for once...the number of female to male Yudansha was even split (3 and 3) with a couple of male and one other female Mudansha aside from me.  Everyone was very friendly, helpful and welcoming, and I also got to again see a fellow aikidoka who once used to live in Winnipeg and train at my home dojo.

We started the morning off with a weapons class which focused on Jo practice.  Naturally, there were minor differences, such as starting out with stretches and exercises using the Jo (which I had never done before) but I won't dwell on those.  Despite such differences, however, their Jo suburi seemed pretty well the same technically.

The weapons class was followed by their regular adult class (on occasion they have kids train with them as well --- the youngest being 3 years old, and quite serious a student, I'm told! :) )

There was no warm-up or ukemi drills, instead Taenohenka started things off, and they do this in three parts:  the first being kousadori, with a diagonal movement; the second being the "normal" Taenohenka I'm used to; and the third was the continuation of the second into a stretch and eventual Kokyuho.  With the third, I was advised to move in even deeper behind uke during the final throw, which helped take his centre more.

We went on to do Kousadori Nikkyo (Suwari Waza) and some standing Kaeshi Waza of Nikkyo into Sankyo.  With Nikkyo, I need to lean in more towards uke's centre.  With both Nikkyo and Sankyo pins, I need to remember to keep my back straight and also move back slightly to make sure that uke's shoulder is completely down on the mat.  With the Nikkyo pin, I was advised that I need to arrange uke's hand outwards so that it is palm up with the fingertips pointing away from me in order to make it harder for him to grab me while I'm finishing the pin.  

We worked on Shomenuchi Iriminage, and I was told that it's really good that I'm going down low, but that I also need to move in deeper and with a bit of a push at the very end of the throw to move a bigger person easier.  [Side Note:  The other Mudansha who I was paired up with was a considerably taller fellow, and during his ukemi for me, he would get down on his knees during what would normally be a face-plant for my Sempais...it makes me wonder if this would be a helpful alternative for them, seeing as they struggle with this part when paired with me on this technique?]

We also worked on Shomenuchi Kokyunage and Shomenuchi Koshinage; the former was very familiar, but latter somewhat new to me (as I believe we would mostly do Katatedori Koshinage at my home dojo).  I was taught to step in deeply and keep my feet closer together --- I thought to myself that perhaps the latter would put me too off balance, but surprisingly, I managed not to lose it and overall, Koshinage didn't feel as awkward or difficult as it normally does for me.

There was also a "freestyle" portion of the class, and I was grouped with the other two other Mudansha; it was sort of like an ordered version of our randori/jiyu waza (only with a single uke) --- in that you're in a group of three and your uke always does a set attack (in this case, Shomenuchi) and you have the choice of responding with one of a few different techniques (in this case, Iriminage, a couple of types of Kokyunage, or Kotegaeshi).  This was fun, and we cycled out as ukes in a flowing way.

We wrapped things up with Kokyudosa, and I was advised to not only move in with one leg slightly (to help put my whole body into the throw) but to also widen my legs to provide a more solid base upon which to settle during the final part.  Like everything else, I'll definitely have to put these to the test against my big brutish Sempais when I get back home. ;)

Overall, it was a great time and a valuable learning experience (I'll have to elaborate more if I remember anything else and get a chance).  Nakamura Sensei was very helpful (and I suppose empathic as well, also being another petite woman such as the likes of me) and gave me some great advice to (as she put it, and as I paraphrase it, "beat up the boys back home").  :D  I'm definitely looking forward to coming back to train with them the next time I'm in town.

Next Stop:  Toronto Aikikai (Monday and Tuesday). ]]></body>
	<date>12-27-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="425">
	<title><![CDATA[My Changing Kiai]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I know, this is a rather silly thing to write about.  But I've been noticing it a lot more lately.  It's not like I've been consciously trying to manipulate it or anything, it just seems to be...evolving...for lack of a better word. 

Last Thursday, my kiai seemed to become even more natural sounding, somehow less contrived than usual --- not that I had ever felt it to be false or forced in any way.  It just seemed to deepen into something almost gutteral; it felt like it was coming from the core of my being as though it truly projected my very spirit.  I know it sounds cheesy.  But it definitely felt like it...

Today, however, my kiai seems to have reverted back to its old sound and tone...and now in comparison to my memory of my kiai on Thursday it almost feels contrived, if that makes any sense.  It doesn't seem to have the same heart in it that it used to.  And yet, of course, actually *trying* to get it back to sounding as natural as it did on Thursday is just a bit counterintuitive. 

But if my kiai is meant to represent my Toushi, or fighting spirit, then what the heck happened, and how on earth do I get it back?  It's not as though I feel any different.  At any rate, I just know that the more I obsess over it, the more laboured and unnatural my kiai will end up sounding.  I guess I just have to carry on as always, putting everything I've got into every one of my strikes, and I'm sure it'll eventually find it's way back home.  :) ]]></body>
	<date>12-23-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="424">
	<title><![CDATA[Leaden (not leading) Uke]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Thursday Jo practice aside, techniques either felt light (seldom) or labourous (often); I've been paying close attention to how my own body feels as well as uke's --- knowing that whenever I do something and it feels overly awkward and/or there's a strain to my arms, then I'm using more muscle (well, what little I've got) than ki extension.  Depending on the uke, things can feel just fine, or uke can feel stiff and/or heavy like he did sometimes today.  

That's not to mention how heavy I felt.  Though I thought I had kept myself fairly hydrated, I must have been pretty dehydrated after all, since I was feeling as heavy as a ton of bricks, peeling myself off the mat as uke for Sensei --- poor guy --- for myself, I certainly didn't feel as light and responsive as I normally do.

We worked on Shomenuchi Yonkyo (Suwari Waza) and Morotaedori Iriminage.  Once again, the "Overly-Sensitive Nage" in me came out in the latter, as I was always afraid of face-planting uke with my naturally low squatting (the curse of a shortie such as me) despite Sensei's urgings that I really should bring them right down to the mat anyway.  This seems to be a reoccuring theme for me...the conflict between doing what I know is technically-sound waza and potentially injuring uke.  The jury's still out. ]]></body>
	<date>12-20-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="418">
	<title><![CDATA[Free-for-all Randori (aka Techniqueless Tuesday)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[That's right --- Aikido class without a single Aikido technique.  Not a one.  Boy that was fun.  I'm glad I had an especially big lunch and kept well hydrated all day today, too.

Tonight, we essentially had our ukes attack freely with the objective of bringing nage down to the mat, and nage having to (obviously) avoid this by any (reasonable) means other than Aikido technique.  Each round was 20 seconds long, and felt like an eternity.  

I lasted 10 seconds on my second round and apparently it was quite the acheivement considering I don't exactly have much natural weight or strength at my disposal; and (unfortunately? ;) ) I wasn't allowed to kick anyone in the balls like I might in real life when all else fails. :D

Afterwards, we did drills back and forth; working in pairs to either bring nage down or grab his shoulders, while nage either had to avoid this, control/atemi uke's head, or avoid/trap one of uke's hands and move circularly to avoid getting grabbed on the other shoulder.  By the end of the night, Kohai Ken seemed exhausted, Sempais Tim and Jeremy were nicely beat up, and I was pretty banged up in the knee and leg, but we were all happy.  You could feel the love in the room. :D  I'm glad we do stuff like this, even to remotely simulate actual combat.  

Sensei assumed that I would be frustrated about tonight, but really, there's nothing to be frustrated about.  Why be frustrated in a situation in which you know you're not able to give 100%?  A thing is only frustrating if you know that you're doing everything you can possibly do and are still coming up short.  As a considerably smaller and lighter person I know that I simply cannot realistically defend (sans Aikido techniques) against attacks, such as being tackled, in the same safe and benign ways that the bigger guys in the dojo can.  

Most of them could get away with using their strength once they're grabbed and body-checked by their ukes, but my only saving grace really is to rely on whatever natural speed and agility I have to avoid getting grabbed or held in the first place.  Failing that, I would have to fall back on simply fighting dirty (ie. seriously kicking and punching at my attackers vitals, their groin, their eyes, and even biting if necessary) but of course that's not allowed on the mats (darn!). :) 

So yeah, holding back is no fun.  But it's safe, and that's the important part --- at least to me.  Remember, overly-sensitive nage here.  Still afraid of hurting people.  Gotta work on that. ;) ]]></body>
	<date>12-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="416">
	<title><![CDATA[Bruised but Happy (as always)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Things are copacetic. :)

Of "the usual suspects", it was just me and Sempai Tim aside from Sensei of course, but we were also joined tonight by two guests:  one was a new student, and the other (who, it turns out, was actually someone I went to Junior High with --- small world!) sat in to watch the class and plans to start with us next week.

We worked on:
Shomenuchi Ikkyo (Suwari Waza)
Katatedori Kokyuho
Shomenuchi Iriminage to Sankyo (Henka Waza)
Katatedori Kokyunage(? --- here I go again)

When we were doing Katatedori Kokyuho, Sensei drew my attention to what should have been a circular, leading arm movement on my part, and this made things feel a lot better with respect to flow and smoothness. 

During the Henka Waza:  Shomenuchi Iriminage to Sankyo, the hand exchange got less awkward with practice (and faster, once I started doing Sankyo more quickly after the atemi), but it still felt rather strange letting go of uke's arm with one hand and switching to the other --- almost like it would be rather vulnerable to losing control of uke.  More to think about, at any rate.

Tonight, I grew a greater appreciation for not only Sensei's patience, but in particular his ability to articulate both aspects of technique and the more vague tenets behind Aikido.  I'm sure the new student appreciated it as well.  ]]></body>
	<date>12-13-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="415">
	<title><![CDATA[Where Did All My Footwork Go?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yup, I'm playing catch-up again for yesterday (Wednesday) and doing tonight's entry as well.  

Wednesday night was a small class:  just me, Sempai Tim, and Sensei.  We started off with Shomenuchi Nikkyo (Suwari Waza), during which I need to remember to keep uke's elbow controlled and in my centre (horizontally across me, not vertically away from me, as I've often been doing erroneously).  

For the remainder of the evening, my own technique to practice was Morotedori Iriminage.  I need to get into the habit of leading uke out more (circular, not linear) and away from his centre; this happened a lot more when I kept my arm continually extended so that there was some distance and tension between me and uke. 

Tonight after Bokken practice, we worked on --- among other things --- Katatedori Shihonage (Hanmihandachi Waza) and Ryotekubidori Kotegaeshi.  During the latter, I found that I was initially getting really mixed up with the direction change until I realized that if I just started paying attention to the direction of uke's own energy, the direction change made perfect sense to me and felt right so long as I continued to use this energy to lead uke.  

Of course, this is all wonderful and everything, but it seems that lately (such as during this technique and during Morotedori Iriminage the night before) the more I've been making a concerted effort to feel uke's energy and lead him using that, the less I've been paying attention to footwork --- so as a result, I've been stumbling around like I have two left feet.  Sigh...there has to be a happy medium somewhere. :)

Ooh ooh ooh --- one thing I *can* be happy about is that while I was practicing with Sensei I did a couple of breakfalls that were very quiet...well, quiet compared to the loud, painful-sounding mat smackers me and the guys tend to do most of the time.  I was very surprised --- I recall reading a thread here on AikiWeb about "silent breakfalls", and I think maybe I did them because I was reaching for the mat more...either that, or Sensei has great control.  Knowing my luck, it's probably the latter. :rolleyes:  ]]></body>
	<date>12-11-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="412">
	<title><![CDATA[All Yonkyo'd Out]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA["Fill all thy bones with aches."
--- William Shakespeare, "The Tempest", Act 1 - Scene 2

As I'm writing this, I'm running a marvelous hot bath for myself.

After things feeling so smooth and flowing on Thursday (alas, I never got a chance to do an entry for it --- we did a lovely blending/leading version of Katatedori Kaitenage), it's always nice to have a Monday night of Taesabaki to show you just how things can be...quite the opposite.  My bruises can attest to the fact that I really need to work more on blending and deflection in my blocking.  Not to mention that we threw in a bit of Yonkyo (your favourite and mine) for good measure as well.  Boy, am I really going to enjoy this bath.

As far as techniques go, Yonkyo for me is still a bit of an iffy thing.  I'm told by some ukes that it works and it's hella painful at best, but I've also found out from others that it can be pretty useless as well. :D It's still pretty sporadic for me, trying to get it just right.  Sensei emphasized posture during Yonkyo so that we can focus on extension and using our centre.  Sometimes, however, it seems as though it takes a lot more effort than one would think it ought to...For myself, I've been finding that it really depends on the uke...for some it takes very little extension, others a heck of a lot (*ahem*, not naming names here ;) ).  Did I mention how much I'm really going to enjoy a hot bath right about now?  Well, I am. ]]></body>
	<date>12-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="410">
	<title><![CDATA["Hi.  My name is Jamie, and I'm an...Overly-Sensit]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Time to form a support group.

I missed writing about Monday's class (yet again) and so I will try to combine things (yet again) as I remember them.  It's not so bad, since there really is just one thing of note that I do recall from Monday in regards to bokken practice.  

I think I finally know why it is that it has been taking me so bloody long to do the second last strike of the eight directions kata correctly.  I notice that I've refrained from all-out doing the sweeping motion of the strike to its full breadth, and now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it's because I've been fearful of hitting someone else with my bokken!  (I know, I'm here thinking to myself, "Was that all it was?!  Pah!  Such a trifle!")  So it seems that I've trained myself (to my detriment) to be overly-cautious and self-conscious --- which means that I now have to untrain myself out of it.  This should be...fun.

Anyway, tonight (Wednesday) we worked on:
- Katadori Kokyuho(? --- Ack!  Serves me right for not asking) in Suwari Waza:  aside from a couple of minor technical details I missed early on, no major difficulties of note here; felt fairly smooth overall.  Well, it did for me.  I don't know about uke. :D
- Tsuki Kokyuho:  Sensei emphasized feeling and adapting to uke's individual energy with this particular technique and the next, and I did my best to keep this in mind; afterwards, I definitely found things felt like they flowed much better.
- Katatedori Iriminage:  Sensei drew my attention to my not holding onto the back of uke's neck long enough to really get much out of maintaining control over him, and I realized that it was because I was afraid of pushing uke too low (do we sense a pattern here?) as my sempais have in the past drawn my attention to the fact that I have a tendency to hold on too long (and thus either push them down further than they can manage or just face-plant them).  I know, I usually can't help it, being so short as it is.  But I still try to accomodate their concerns.  Sensei told me just not to worry about it.  But...

Am I just being too darn nice --- I mean sensitive --- for my own good? ;) ]]></body>
	<date>12-03-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="403">
	<title><![CDATA[Putting in Some Extra Time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sensei was kind enough to take time out of his busy schedule to run an extra weekend practice today (Sunday) and we had (I believe) a rather pleasant practice this afternoon with just me, Ken, Sempai Tim and Sensei.  

We worked on Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza) and then Ken and I did mostly Ryotedori Tenchinage.  No complaints here --- on the whole, things felt pretty smooth today (with one small yet noteable exception ukemi-wise :) ) and I've found myself "feeling" the techniques out more and more now that I'm feeling a little more secure about the physical details of what I'm supposed to be doing.  That is --- though I've always known that if things feel too awkward, tension-laden or labourous, I'm not blending enough --- I'm finding it easier now to consciously focus on remedying this (at least with the waza we went through today).

Oh, the one "noteable exception"?  During the ukemi drill I slipped up on a roll when we were doing Mae ukemi because my timing was off and I ended up rolling incorrectly.  I definitely need to focus better.  Kind of like on Friday night --- my ukemi felt so much more in focus then...so much so that when my towel fell out of my dogi in the middle of the drill, I was able to pick it up mid-roll.  :)  That was actually kind of amusing, since I didn't think I could do that.

My Kohai, Ken, has been coming out to practice a lot but seemed a little frustrated, so I did my best to encourage him and commend him for his dedication thus far.  I told him pretty much what Sempai Jeff used to tell me, which is that it's really practice --- "getting your reps in" as he would say, that does it.  That the more you practice, the easier things will get --- it just takes time and persistence.  Hopefully he will take it to heart, not get too discouraged, and keep on coming out to practice as frequently (if not more so) as he has been lately.  ]]></body>
	<date>12-01-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="400">
	<title><![CDATA[To eventually expound upon...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Monday, November 24, 2003

While watching Sensei demonstrate, an interesting thought popped into my head about Aikido as a metaphor for Conflict Resolution --- both require a great deal of effort to the mutual good and benefit of either side in the conflict, while the easier approach most people would take would be the path of the offensive martial art, or simply giving into anger/rage in a conflict when they are not getting their way.  In the former, the focus is on both sides (everyone involved) and in the latter, it is on only the self.

It is in this way that O Sensei must have meant that Aikido is a way to bring peace to the world --- by adapting this unselfish mentality of "blending" with and absorbing the aggression of one's enemy while controling oneself.  Simply beautiful. ]]></body>
	<date>11-28-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="399">
	<title><![CDATA[Continuing the Conscious Effort...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, tonight's was a typical Thursday class in that it began with Jo practice, but alas didn't continue with the weekly Ki/centering and leading exercises --- at least this time it didn't, which is a shame (since we normally do them just once a week as it is).  

Instead, we focused on:
- Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi (both Suwari Waza and Standing)
- a couple of types of Katadori Kokyunage (Hanmihandachi Waza)

The only technical detail I can remember to note (not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing) is that for Kotegaeshi, the ending movement is to draw uke in towards your centre and then away to the side (by using the hips and extending of course).  Other than this, details seem to be a blur altogether, I'm sure partly from both fatigue and partly from specifically not wanting to pay so much attention to technique tonight as really trying to go more by feel.

I worry that some ukes might be getting a little impatient with my starting and stopping all the time in this way, but I think most don't mind...at any rate, I guess I should just slow my pace down altogether and just aim for doing things completely and continuously without stopping at all --- simply adapting to the change in how uke feels as we go along.  This might be a much more invaluable practice...then again, this also raises an interesting question:  at which point would one consider nage as crossing the border between simply adapting to a change in how uke feels partway, and forcing technique, (particularly if, like me, they are only able/instructed to continue to practice the same technique)?  It does seem like walking a rather fine line, especially when one is just starting out learning technique as I am... ]]></body>
	<date>11-28-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="394">
	<title><![CDATA[Plugging Along (as always)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, there's no rest for the wicked.  Here I go playing catch-up again --- I'm a day behind on my journal entry (as always), but this time I'll try to combine both yesterday's (Monday's) and today's in one.  Busybusybusy!

I'm giving myself a pat on the back over my ukemi on Monday night --- after the Mai ukemi drill, I was able to stand stably without losing my balance from dizziness (quite common when we run through it quickly).  Perhaps the extra ukemi practice on Saturday paid off after all.  

I'll afford myself just this one meagre glory, since the rest of the evening wasn't all that great for me.  I was paired up with Dave doing Shomenuchi Ikkyo and for some reason unbeknownst to me, having Dave as uke is more awkward than being partnered with anyone else.  Things all of a sudden feel laboured, and his strike seems to come down on me like a ton of bricks --- so hard that I'm unable to deflect it with the ease and expediency that the technique requires.  As a result, Sensei ended up asking Dave to be more light with his ukemi at this stage in our learning.  I'm not too sure if it really made much of a difference, but what the hey.  I'll keep plugging along as always.

As for tonight, it was a good turnout (5 of us on the mats) though apparently there were a couple of folks who were supposed to sit in and watch the class but never showed.  We worked on Morotaedori Ikkyonage, Aiki Otoshi, and one other (possibly Kokyunage?  I know, that's what I always say) and then applied them in Randori/Jiyu Waza.

You find out right away that these particular techniques just don't work well without extension (in this case, of one's arm) and especially the use of your hips/centre...to my surprise and delight, I actually (for once) experienced a couple of throws in which I could really feel my hips engaged and as a result felt very smooth and almost effortless.  Naturally, this happens when you're really not paying much attention to what you're doing so much as to how things feel, and so of course any conscious effort on my part to duplicate them failed miserably. :D  But what the hey.  I'll keep plugging along as always. ]]></body>
	<date>11-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="389">
	<title><![CDATA[Solo Saturday Keiko]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday, I found myself alone at the dojo...a new experience, but a very rewarding one.  In my quiet seclusion (there wasn't a soul besides me in the whole building while I was there), I decided to focus on some things that have been giving me a bit of trouble.

I practiced my ukemi, and though I still was unable to tame my meandering/crooked Mai ukemi after a great many tries, I actually managed to do some decent Ushiro without my knee touching the mat!  Yay me!  The downside is that while it can be consistently good on one side, it is still touching down now and then on the other.  Oh well --- it feels good to just notice a change in this way, however small, for once.

I went on to practicing weapons, and in particular the Eight Directions Bokken kata which I always flub up (especially at the end).  I took my time with it at first, then sped it up a little and it's beginning to feel a lot smoother.  Though I'm still uncertain as to whether I'm doing the second-last step correctly...

I also practiced the 13-step Bokken kata, which I have memorized and feels alright, I guess.  I wish I could say the same about the 13-step Jo kata, which I also --- okay, *tried* practicing, but couldn't remember all the way through.  So instead, I practiced more strikes with my left (non-dominant) hand high, as this still feels very awkward and weak at times.

After this, I made (if I do say so myself) a rather shoddy attempt at practicing technique on my own and came to the realization that I am not yet at the stage where I can get much out of this without feeling and acting in relation to an actual, physical, uke.  My second-rate, imaginary ukes just didn't cut it.  I went down the test list and as I was going through the motions --- er, trying to --- I also realized how much I actually rely upon looking at uke's stance/footwork in relation to my own for some movements.  Let's just say I have a sneaking suspicion that this should not be. :S After all, in a real-life combat situation, it's not like I'm going to be paying sole attention to the position of my attackers feet!  Um, no pun intended.  Sigh...

Another thing I realized while going down the list is that we haven't worked on Sankyo or Koshinage in a while, which is a good realization to make since Sensei is always asking what waza I want to do...now I actually have a real answer for once instead of my usual cop-out of letting him pick whatever we don't do often.

At the very least, I got to work up a good sweat if nothing else.  Can't complain about that. ]]></body>
	<date>11-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="388">
	<title><![CDATA[Patience is a Virtue]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...that I do not possess.

I tried contacting Jon prior to leaving for the dojo to confirm that we were meeting to train at either 4 or 4:30 and when I didn't hear back, Julie and I joked about how I was getting all antsy.  It sounded like back when you had that crush on a cute guy in Junior High and he wasn't returning your calls.  Only this time, the crush was on Aikido.

So I make it down to the dojo before 4, and no one's around.  I climb up and hunt around in all the usual hiding places for the spare key but none is to be found.  So I figure I'll sit outside the dojo, read my Plato's Republic, and give the guys 'til 4:30.  If they don't show up by then, I'm breaking in. 

At 4:30, I get up, dust myself off and gear myself up to have a go at the grate which senior students had shimmied through in the past when they were locked out.  Its happened enough times that the grate is no longer screwed into the door properly from the outside, but is held only by two loose screws from the inside --- the top screw is actually held in place by a makeshift nut of duct tape.  

Pulling the grate off was the easy part.  What I had completely forgotten about was that cardboard in a manila envelope was duct-taped from the inside to deter anyone from coming in through the grate.  To a certain extent, it worked.  Because as I felt against the cardboard and paper and found --- much to my disappointment --- that it was quite solid and secure, I thought to myself that there was no way I was getting through without breaking it.  And I figured that if they had gone through all of this trouble to making this precaution to keep folks out, I was pretty sure they wouldn't be happy if I broke it just so that I could practice my ukemi.

So I go back and climb up again to search all the hiding places for the spare key just in case I missed it the first time, but come up emptyhanded a second time.  In desperation, I run downstairs to see if I can use the phone in one of the offices, so I knock on all the doors, but they're locked, and no one seems to be around.  I walk out into the parking lot, and there's not a car in sight.  I'm stranded there with no method of communication, and I figured that if I tried to leave to make a phone call elsewhere (the nearest place being a ways away), someone might come by to the dojo while I'm gone, and might leave thinking that no one showed.

Okay, so back to the drawing-board.  Plan A was a flop.  Plan B?  Well, at this point, I'm willing to try just about anything that doesn't involve breaking the cardboard.  Hmm...so I figured I could always try picking the lock...so I dug into my bag to see what I could possibly pick it with and came up with the pin from a button and a hair clip.  I tried both with no luck whatsoever.  And it always looks so easy on TV.  Sigh.  I check my watch and it's nearly 10 minutes to 5.

I think to myself, "Okay, I'll give them to 5 and if no one shows, I'm definitely going in" because come hell or high water, I'm not going to just leave after waiting a whole hour without doing *something*.  I had even spent my last bus ticket just to get out there.  So I plunk myself down by the door again, resume reading my book, munch on some grapes, and bang my head against the wall a few times.

5 'o clock rolls by.  I undo the grate again and stick my fingers in between the door and the cardboard as far as I can to see how secure it is.  I'm still hesitant, but figure that if I had something hard and flat to pry with, it would help.  I glance down the hall and spy a plastic doorstop, which I grab and use to pry into the cardboard.  After some doing, I feel a bit of give, and hear a bit of a ripping sound, which I freak out a little at.  I stick my hand in and feel that the duct tape is slowly giving way, and with a bit more prying by my fingers, I'm finally able to reach open air.  It's labourous, but after a couple of minutes, I'm able to separate the rest of the tape at the bottom from the door, as well as the sides and I can actually see into the dojo!  Hooray!

I take my hiking boots off and awkwardly squeeze myself through the grate, which is still suspended from above and hits me from behind.  I manage to, after getting stuck halfway (my sweater caught on the bottom screw), work my way onto the mats.  At this point, I'm covered in sawdust and slivers of wood, but I bow to the Shomen, bow off the mats, and unlock the door from inside.  I get changed into my dogi and am finally able to buckle down to some training, albeit alone.

Maybe I'm a little obsessed...is that a bad thing?

In describing these exploits to Dave and Julie, we joke that Jon better start treating me well because how often is he going to find a student dedicated enough to be willing to commit B&E just to train?]]></body>
	<date>11-23-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="386">
	<title><![CDATA[Aiki-Rumi? (Poetry)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Among some of the reading I've been doing lately, I've been going through a bit of Rumi [1207-1273] --- mostly the shorter poems for the time being, since things have been busy.  Now, sometimes I really wonder if maybe I just have Aikido on the brain so much that it's skewing how I'm being influenced by things (I mean, this *is* coming from the lady who will walk through a mall and purposefully distract herself by visualizing aiki waza after all... :)) but I'll let you judge for yourself as to the "aiki-value" of the spirit behind some of these (in some cases, fairly well-known) poems:

I stand up, and this one of me
turns into a hundred of me.
They say I circle around you.
Nonsense. I circle around me.

**

A secret turning in us
makes the universe turn.
Head unaware of feet,
and feet head.  Neither cares.
They keep turning.

**

I am so small I can barely be seen.
How can this great love be inside me?

[NOTE:  this second half is italicized, as if a response] 
Look at your eyes.  They are small,
but they see enormous things.

**

You have said what you are.
I am what I am.
Your actions in my head,
my head here in my hands
with something circling inside.
I have no name
for what circles 
so perfectly.

**

Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.
Don't try to see through the distances.
That's not for human beings.  Move within,
but don't move the way fear makes you move.

**
[Last but not least, my personal fave: an ode to Aikikai. *she chuckles knowingly* :D]

Dance, when you're broken open.
Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you're perfectly free. ]]></body>
	<date>11-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="383">
	<title><![CDATA[Oh the Violence of it All :-D]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tuesday night, I'm happy to say that I decided to add rootedness/centredness along with my old friend breathing while performing technique, and aside from during Randori (whoa, *that'll* take some practice) I think I met with some success.  At least insofar as that the slightest bit of success to me is (for the time being, ahem --- beginner here :)) measured by my ability to stay focused on these tenets.  And during Randori, the only thing I'm really able to focus on right now is what's coming at me and when --- under pressure, I have yet to be able to do this while simultaneously paying much attention to how my own body is feeling.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.  I'm hoping the latter will come with time and practice, for if I'm going to do something, I'd like to be able to do it effectively and in high-stress situations above all.  Um, "duh!" --- as they say.  Yes, I know...I'm not often very colloquial around here, am I?

Poor Sensei.  So I'm being uke for him so that he can get some reps in while we're practicing Shomenuchi Iriminage, and there I go and actually hit him.  The first time, I got him on the collarbone and chest.  No biggie.  The second time, I actually managed to hit him with my Shomen strike right smack dab in the middle of the forehead.  Hard.  Boy, did I ever feel bad.  And so did my hand, but for just a little bit.  The man has a hard head. :)

Despite him correcting me for "tracking" him with my strike (who knew?), I think he was actually somewhat pleased.  "At least we know that she's extending," he said.  On the plus side, at the very least we know that I must be striking correctly, accurately and with some realistic power because not only did I feel pain from striking with the correct, knife-edge of my hand, but for about 10-15 minutes afterwards, Sensei sported a bright red, vertical stripe of a mark down the centre of his forehead...

I suppose I have to leave my mark somehow. ]]></body>
	<date>11-20-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="379">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally for the Past Week]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's been awhile since I've done the tally --- mostly due to being extremely busy over the weekends.  Since it's been such a notable week, I figured that come hell or high water, I'd better make a point of doing this! 

:( Pains:
- the usual small bruises here and there, some from Yonkyo, some from blocking during Tae Sebaki; others from banging the insides of my knees together while breakfalling (yowch!)
- stiff shoulders/arms, but I suspect it's mostly from all the "painting waza" I've been doing (off-mat, of course ;) ) lately
- a nasty big bruise on my left knee from banging it somehow --- I've know idea how it got there, but all I know is that immediately afterwards, I couldn't do anything in Suwari Waza without flinching; I put a frozen bag of peas on it when I got home b/c it started to swell like there was no tomorrow...the pain's pretty well gone now :)
- a bloody nose (not actually painful per se) from Sensei's Iriminage :D

:) Gains:
- paying more attention to Kokyu lately
- the awareness of the importance of and effort working towards being able to maintain focus and concentration while being in consistent pain
- I arch back a lot more now when I'm uke during Iriminage :D ]]></body>
	<date>11-17-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="378">
	<title><![CDATA[A Pleasant Surprise]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sempai Garry came by to visit.  He popped his head in the doorway in the middle of our usual Thursday night Jo practice to watch the class and say hello to everyone.  His recovery is right on schedule, and he wanted to see how things were going...I think he's getting a bit of cabin fever --- I know he misses coming to class! :) It was really good to see him, and I got to catch a ride home from him and chat a bit to catch up.

Well, that was pretty much the highlight of my evening, because aside from Garry's visit I was in an otherwise foul mood --- after Jo practice, I started getting a stomachache/cramping that just wouldn't let up and it really influenced my performance (or rather, lack thereof).  At first, I thought I was getting off to a good start.  I continued breathing deeply, coupling my inhalations and exhalations with my movements and staying fully relaxed...but then eventually the discomfort became too distracting and I could tell that my disposition was getting, shall we say...less than sunny.  ;)

We were working on Morotaedori from two-person attacks for most of the night, and there was one technique in particular --- I believe it was the Kokyunage --- where you had to draw your arms into your centre prior to throwing both ukes, and that every time I would draw them towards my centre, ouch!  Boy, would it be throbbing! :)  It got to the point where I became less and less tolerant of Sensei's side comments, especially after he implied that I wasn't able to take the roughness of the practice in comparison to another classmate (one of whom he has been known in the past to comment about being more feeble than most) :( --- heh, external pain I can handle; it's sporadic and you get hurt and move on.  I've been fine with that.  It's the pervasive internal pain that I'm finding tougher to deal with because it tends to be so consistent that merely distracting yourself with activity rarely does the trick --- as a matter of fact, activity usually aggravates it.

But stupid me, I wouldn't just sit out.  No, I had to plug along doggedly with training regardless of how I felt, even though it was obviously affecting me.  I think that after awhile, Sensei perhaps started attributing my foul mood to frustration at not being able to do some of these techniques properly (notably, the one I just described), but what else is new with me? ;)  I suppose this is really a chicken-and-egg scenario.  So as a result, he started to lay thick on what, at least in my haze of pain, seemed to be rather excessive and insincere praise, even when I really didn't think I was doing a technique well at all.  This was probably the most exasperating thing of all, aside from my stomach hurting.  

So in conclusion, I realize that I really, really need to find a way of dealing with pervasive, consistent internal pain during training (aside from taking some "Vitamin I" ;) ) --- you know what I mean, dealing with it internally, inside my own mind and body and not letting myself get distracted by it or letting my mood get swayed by it so easily.  To me, this means getting to the point where I can tune out all of the other nonsense that folks might say and do without getting emotionally drawn in by them (as I seem more susceptible in this kind of mood) and simply being able to focus on the task at hand.  Clearly focus on the physical, mental, and spiritual planes without any regard to anything else.  

Hmm...I think it's about time I took up meditating again...

(Oh yeah --- on a happier note, I've been paying more attention to balance/centering since last journal entry and am feeling better about it; at least during Jo practice I was ;) ) ]]></body>
	<date>11-14-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="377">
	<title><![CDATA[Balance?  *Sigh*...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It was another small class tonight with just me, Sensei, and Sempais Sascha and Jeremy.  (Is everyone hibernating or something?)  For tonight's Randori, which we did in two sets with a couple rounds each, we practiced a variety of techniques.  The first set was from Tsuki (both direct and indirect Iriminage, the latter also known as "the technique where nage looks like a big white bird flapping its wings" :p  , and --- I believe --- a form of Kokyunage).  The second was from Ryokatadori (possibly two other forms of Kokyunage...um...yeah.  Heck --- who am I kidding?!  I have no idea!). :)

I started the night off alright, I suppose --- making a habit of coupling my breathing with technique, etc.  At least I have one thing to be proud of.

[BEGIN RANT]
Man, I really need to work on my balance, and maintaining/lowering my own centre!  As "simple" as this might seem (yes, I can hear all you Yudansha laughing! :D ), it seems that the more "simple" the technique is, the more I end up being thrown off balance (go figure that), especially when uke breakfalls (perhaps a little more understandable).  I do make a habit of squatting; but sometimes I just get pulled right over regardless.  

Granted, there's just 105 lbs. of me, but still...am I expecting too much of myself to believe that somehow I can have the ability to maintain some stability and zanshin when I'm throwing someone twice my size?  Is Ki simply a matter of faith?  Or am I just deluding myself?  Grr...I'm really starting to hate being a little person! :grr:

To top it all off, Sensei has been saying that I'll be testing at the next seminar in February, and I'm here thinking, "Yeah right." --- I don't feel the least bit ready.  I even hear him say again and again how envious he is, that I'm a natural at such and such, but it just makes me want to laugh.  Feh.  (As if there's some ukemi gene or something!)  :confused: 
[END RANT]   ]]></body>
	<date>11-11-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="375">
	<title><![CDATA[Keiko is Not a Dish Best Served Cold]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, back again...after all the "Painting Waza" I did over the weekend (not to mention earlier in the week and then again this afternoon), I'm surprised that I'm in as good a condition as I am.  Just some minor stiffness in the shoulders, but that's nothing new.  I'm just happy to have tomorrow off from work --- it certainly didn't feel like I had a weekend at all!

It was a relatively small class tonight (where the heck was everybody anyway?!): just me, Ken, Sensei, and Sempai Jeremy.  Jeremy commented that perhaps we were getting a wind from the South, because the dojo was freezing again.  Luckily this doesn't happen often, but when it does --- man, is it ever cold.  Of course, the washrooms down the hall, (particularly the Ladies', where I change initially) on the other hand, are --- no word of a lie --- as hot as saunas!

So to keep warm, we did our Bokken drills back and forth across the room instead of standing still and even did a bit of rolling afterwards (thank-youthank-youthank-you).  All the bumps and bruises from Tae Sabaki also helped distract from the cold rather well. :)

Off to soak my aches in a nice warm tub now...
 ]]></body>
	<date>11-10-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="373">
	<title><![CDATA[Minor Disappointment and More Silly Details]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Now let's see...tonight (Friday):

[Side Note:  I really hate having to do separate journal entries back-to-back like this --- I mean, it does feel like a bit of a cop-out --- but then again, I don't want to let each of these entries get *too* terribly long, especially if they're regarding two separate training nights.  But I suppose this can't be helped --- I'm so busy these days.  Please bear with me.  At any rate, I do hope that my ramblings aren't too much of a "waste of bandwidth"! ;) ]

*Ahem* --- we had a small class today:  just me, Tim, and Sensei.  I think Sensei might have been a little disappointed that more students didn't come out tonight, especially since we had someone (read:  potential new student) come in to watch the class.  At any rate, I know I was somewhat disappointed.  You know the saying, "there's strength in numbers"...I personally would have liked to see most of my classmates there to "show our strength" as a club, in other words, how well we work together and get along so well as a group.  I really would have liked the guy to have seen more of this warm, cooperative, and supportive environment among the larger representation we have of students from diverse backgrounds and ages...but oh well --- it can't be helped.

Anyhoo.  We started things off with Shomenuchi Yonkyo (Suwari Waza).  I think I'm starting to get a hang of the timing of the initial entry, but I still need to keep my arms extended, especially while applying Yonkyo into the pin.  That is, bend uke's arm (instead of my own) so that his elbow is down and lower than his wrist while I'm doing it.  In essence, I should be paying more attention to whether or not I've maintained control of uke's elbow throughout as opposed to paying so much attention to the Yonkyo itself.  I guess this latter aspect has been rather tough for me because I've always felt that I haven't been doing Yonkyo very well at all; I'm guessing it's due to having smaller hands and thus not always being able to grip uke's wrist well.  In any case, keeping this in mind should help me distract myself away from my lousy Yonkyo and onto the more important issue of control.

For most of the latter part of the class, we worked (similar to Wednesday's class) in rotation, practicing different techniques.  This time, however, it was Sensei alternating between Morotaedori Kotegaeshi (or was it something else?), Iriminage, and even (ouch) Yonkyo; Tim practiced Shomenuchi Koshinage (aka "The Drop of Doom", at least for short little me as uke) and then had to switch to Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage again, due to experiencing some shoulder/arm/back/leg pain (!).

My assigned technique to practice was Ryotedori Tenchinage.  Things I need to remember include:
- sliding in off the line of uke's attack
- sliding in deep and with my hand low, and with my lead (low) hand as far as the "third point of the triangle" formed by uke's feet in order to take him off balance somewhat
- turning my high hand so that my palm is away from me (in order to turn uke's body askew) before bringing it up and over uke while using the force of my hips  

We finished things off with a kind of Kokyunage from Ryokatadori.  I need to use the initial atemi to put uke off before he is able to grab my lead shoulder --- timing, timing, timing!

Now, I'm off to bed --- I think I've earned my sleep tonight. :)  I'll be practicing my extension and keeping my centre while painting this weekend, so I'd better rest up! 
 ]]></body>
	<date>11-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="372">
	<title><![CDATA["Interactive" Kata, and The Beginner's Blues]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's (Thursday) class was pretty typical in format, but certainly by no means boring or common in the least!  

We started of with Jo practice as per "S.O.P." (Standard Operating Procedure, as my husband would say), and ran through the 13-step kata...then we ran through the kata (drum-roll please) in pairs.  (!)  Now, I had never done this before, so it was a heck of a lot of fun to see it all come together.  Well, as much as it could come together --- there was a heck of a lot to remember too :)  But I really loved adding this new dimension to the kata --- one in which things were suddenly more dynamic, and you had to be aware of the actions of another and your relation to him (both in position and energy), as opposed to simply following something that you had memorized.  I do hope we can practice this more often!

The rest of the class was devoted to practice our centering and leading, and I'm glad we set aside time to do this.  

[Side Note:  One thing I wish we did more in class (even briefly) is practicing breathing --- if only to stop in the middle of a class to let all of my tense fellow-aikidoka get into the habit of relaxing. :)  Luckily, I'm feel fairly relaxed most of the time (it probably shows), but sometimes I think I can also be too relaxed (ie. "wet noodle").]

But I digress.  Heh --- I could say that I'm feeling some progress in this area (Ki development, centering, etc.), but that would be quite untrue :) .  I'm certainly not letting it get me down, though; I'm just letting things come as they may and continuing to do my best.  

I recognize that this is not uncommon --- that many other beginners such as myself also have trouble in these areas initially and pay more attention to technique.  So I am working to keep myself "balanced" in a manner of speaking, by discussing my own technique not only insofar as physical positioning of myself (which I suppose is really to be expected at this stage of my training), but also not neglecting what I am doing in terms of how things feel.  Am I straining?  Am I coupling my actions with my breathing/Kokyu power?  Am I "muscling" uke? How is my balance?  Does it feel awkward?  I constantly ask myself these questions and check myself on these all the time...hopefully it'll pay off. :)  ]]></body>
	<date>11-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="367">
	<title><![CDATA[Settling In]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[--- from chaos to order, possibly in more ways than one...

Things have been rather hectic for me lately, what with organizing things at work for the move to the second floor and in addition, having recently been appointed to the Board of Directors of Women's Health Clinic as volunteer rep.  So I've had to do a bit of shuffling around of my schedule to accommodate the board meeting on the first Tuesday of the month --- which is when I'd normally be at the dojo for Randori/Jiyu waza night, so I decided to miss ESL volunteer teaching this week (luckily, it's casual volunteering) to come out on a Wednesday night for once.  I'm glad I did.

Wednesday nights at the dojo are generally pretty quiet with the class small, and last night was no exception --- just me, Sensei and Sempai Tim.  On nights like this, Sensei usually lets us concentrate for some time on just one or two techniques, which I really appreciate.  Last night we practiced in rotation as a group of three, starting with Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza).  Happily, doing this in Ura is starting to feel less awkward, and I think I'm getting a little more adept at making the hand change into Sankyo prior to the pin.  Yay for me.  Baby steps, I know, but it's encouraging nonetheless.

After this, we continued to work in rotation, but interchangeably on different techniques:  Tim with Ushiro Ryotekubidori Shihonage, Sensei with Morotaetori Ikkyo, and me with Shomenuchi Nikkyo.  Aside from the usual fine-tuning of timing on the opening movement, I also need to shuffle in/Sugiashi (sp?) to be able to move in deeper (as always, for better Kuzushi for little, midget me ;) ).  I should turn my lead foot outward and use my hips to bring uke a little lower before the first part of the triangular entry/Sankakyu no Irimi (sp?), and keep my arms extended (though not fully/with locked joints) throughout.  In addition, I need to maintain control on uke's elbow throughout the transition into the pin, which means keeping his shoulder down; apparently, if he tries to rise up (according to Sensei), I can adapt by pulling his arm into my centre to regain control prior to the pin --- I tried this once on Tim and it seemed to work fine.

I need to find more time to work on developing my own Ki a little better, as well as keeping my own centre more stably --- in the meantime, I'm looking into Chi Kung; a co-worker lent me a book on it, and I'm finding it really interesting.  Incidentally, I just met a fellow WHC board member who's part of Fubuki Daiko's student troupe (a local Daiko/Japanese drumming performance group) and I mentioned to her my long-time interest in wanting to learn this art --- she recommended that I sign up for one of their workshops which might start in January, and we had a good discussion about how it would be a more than suitable complement to my Aikido training in terms of developing my centre and extension --- essentially, she told me how she had found that she can drum louder than many of the larger, male members of her group because she has a good centre.  Hmm...sounds like a familiar concept... ]]></body>
	<date>11-06-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="362">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting tired of the details...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...but for now, it can't be helped, and here is yet another dry entry on the mechanics of technique. :(

We started things out with Bokken practice as usual, and spent a fair amount of time on the Eight Directions kata in particular.  This was especially helpful to me, as I still haven't quite got the hang of a couple of parts of it.  Sensei went into a great deal of detail, particularly of the footwork aspect of it, which always had me muddled (not to mention tripping over my own feet during the wider turns). :)  What really drew my attention was how learning that one's footwork (that is, in how one turns their feet into the next strike) made a rather big difference.  So no more tripping over my own feet --- yay!  Or at least a reduced number of incidents of it... ;)

Later, we worked on Shomenuchi Ikkyo (Suwari Waza) to start off the "regular" portion of the class.  I'm still working on getting the timing of the opening down pat, essentially becoming a "mirror" of uke, as well as synchronizing this initial block with my first, deep stride and extending myself fully and at a 45 degree angle to uke to really take his balance.

We went on to practice some Katatedori Kokyuho, where, after some initial confusion on my part, I finally got it into my thick skull not to tenkan. :)  After this, I got to realizing how much the power of this particular technique really comes from the hips in lieu of there not being a tenkan.

While my Sempais practiced Tsuki Kaitenage and the new student practiced something else as well, I got to work on Shomenuchi Shihonage for the majority of the rest of the class.  One point I missed (which Sensei pointed out to me) was that I need to absorb/draw uke's strike down into my centre (stepping back and out at 45 degrees to him) initially.  Sempai Jeremy had advised me earlier that it's the downward swing of uke's hand towards my centre that takes his balance, and we practiced this a couple of times with a fair amount of success.  I just need to smoothly incorporate this theory with Sensei's advice and it'll be smooth Shihonage sailing. :)

Sigh...I can't wait until that glorious day when I no longer have to concentrate so much on the simple mechanics of movement!  In the meantime, it can't hurt to get a head start on learning more about developing my own Ki/Chi.  I'm trying to find more books on Qi Gong/Chi Kung, and wanting to make a point of meditating more these days as well.


 ]]></body>
	<date>11-04-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="360">
	<title><![CDATA[Pain, sweet pain...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...how I have missed you.

I wish our Internet connection were more reliable lately (we had made some drastic changes and a lot of bugs still need to be worked out) as I've been missing chances to post entries for a few training days, such as yesterday's class.  Now for the life of me, I've forgotten what we did...Ah well, in keeping with "Randori philosophy", I'll just forget it and move on. :)

We did the ever-popular "kicking" defenses class tonight, hence the very explicit title.  Folks don't generally look forward to this class --- they say the ukemi is awkward (which it is), and that being uke is painful (which it most certainly is).  But either I'm unbelievably naive (or unbelievably masochistic --- maybe it's a bit of both), but I actually don't mind doing them...if only because we don't do them often and we really need the practice.  

(Just as an aside, since the first kicking class I did a while back, I had been making a point of practicing my kicks along with my other atemi in the mornings --- I had only practiced kicking sporadically as an offshoot of being in Sikaran as a kid, and had never even done the "crescent kick" before; so  compared to how I did this miserably during my first kicking class, I've noticed a marked improvement, especially on my "weaker" left side.  Yay for me.)

After all, the likelihood of getting kicked in an actual combat scenario is a big thing to consider and for the sake of readiness, I'd rather be...well, ready.  Besides, we just fuss over the pain because we're simply not as used to taking it down there as we do so often in the wrists and arms --- right?  Of course, all this great bravado on my part is all well and good (not to mention easy to say) when you're *not* having ankle Yonkyo put on you. 

Off to rub some comfrey ointment on my Yonkyo bruises now! :) ]]></body>
	<date>11-01-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="357">
	<title><![CDATA[Randori Therapy ;-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tuesday night was Randori/Jiyu Waza night as usual, and to prep for this, we worked on a nice variety of techniques for Tsuki and Shomenuchi attacks --- particularly:  Shomenuchi Iriminage, Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi, Tsuki Iriminage, and Tsuki Kotegaeshi.

I'm finding more and more that there really isn't anything quite like Randori to clear one's mind.  You can get so immersed in it, so caught up in the very moment of just being and doing that there is simply no time to be frustrated!  So you mess up and move on.  No time to dwell on it or give it great thought, because here comes another attack.

The other thing I also wonder, as I mused to Sensei afterwards, is how much of it is also a greater willingness to not take as much responsibility for your technique as when you do techniques more slowly.  Perhaps one feels like they have greater leeway in doing Randori to say, "Oh well, so I messed up a few times --- it's alright because we were going fast and I didn't have time to think", so it's as though we disown our technique --- we figure there's no need to dwell on it, and brush it off right away.  On the other hand, perhaps it's when you're practicing techniques slowly and deliberately and then mess up, that you're a lot harder on yourself because you actually had the time to put some thought into your technique but screwed up anyway.

Looking forward to that one fine day when I can happily "own" every technique I do, especially in Randori. :) ]]></body>
	<date>10-30-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="353">
	<title><![CDATA[Yuki]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I figured that it might be nicer to name this entry "Snow", after having the first snowfall of the year just yesterday...well, nicer than naming it "Heavy and Weighed Down", or the equally unpoetic "I Hate Ikkyo" title I likewise had in mind.  I'll just have to save those for another day, as I'm sure they will be relevant for me again and again.

I suppose for the sake of accuracy, I should say, "I hate feeling clumsy." which is really how I feel.  After all, it's not Ikkyo's fault I feel this way.  I mean, Ikkyo's just fine...for everyone else...it's me that's all messed up.  :)  For whatever reason, more than likely because I hadn't kept myself well-hydrated yesterday, neglecting to drink much water before heading off to class, I spent last night not only feeling parched, but like I was dragging this enormous weight around inside.  And I don't mean the good, magical kind that keeps you centered and with weight underside. :)  Or at least this is how I felt whenever I was nage.

It got to the point where I really relished my turns being uke, particularly the not-having-to-think-only-react part of it.  It was like having a little rest break between rounds of unending frustraton.  I almost got way too comfortable on the mat; getting pinned was actually quite relaxing to me...lying there, unmoving, the mat nice and cool against my hot, sweaty cheek.  I probably could have fallen asleep there, watching the falling snow.

But I didn't.  I didn't want to let my frustrations sink me further into apathy, so I kept on going.  I really should have asked for a water break, or maybe I should have opened the window and took a nice deep breath of fresh air --- anything to refresh my spirits, instead of plodding along like I did.

I wonder if this is a case where letting everything go would have helped...usually the only way I end up completely immersed in something is to feel confident enough to do it again and again.  No feelings.  No distractions.  I need to find a way to keep my mind clear of the intrusive and stagnating feelings of frustration, something to make me feel light of body and spirit --- light and fresh like drifting snow...    ]]></body>
	<date>10-28-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="348">
	<title><![CDATA[Figuring Things Out :)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We had just a small group of us tonight (me, Dave, Sempai Jim & Sensei) but as always made the most of it. :)  It's always nice to get the opportunity to focus on just a couple of wazas for an entire class, and tonight just so happened to be one of those nights.  We began with some Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza) and finished up with Katatedori Kaitenage.

Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza) is starting to feel a lot less...daunting...than it used to be, though it still has its awkward moments when my timing is off.  I still need to remember:
- there are just three "stepping" movements
--- the initial "step" in (deeply, in my case) for Omote, at the same time as the upward block, a second "step" with the rear leg after the Sankyo hand-change forward and into the mat, and a third which arranges uke into the Osae
- with Ura, after the initial "tenkan"/pivot and hand-change, bring uke's arm outside/around me (not between us) and down to the mat
- with the Osae, wrap fingers around uke's hand instead of clamping down flat

I've been finding it relatively easier (read: less strenuous, not less difficult/challenging --- hehehe ;) ) to do the Ura versions of wazas --- I'm guessing because I'm entering indirectly and thus going with the flow of Uke's energy instead of entering directly (as in Omote) and almost blocking it directly.  In any case, doing Ura just feels like a smoother set of movements for me, possibly because I'm not taking the full force of the atemi head-on.

Katatedori Kaitenage felt a little more awkward to me, at least in the later, pre-throw portion of it.  Essentially, I was having trouble taking Uke's centre when I was to "draw back" my arm downwards while simultaneously drawing back my lead leg.  A couple of the problems Sensei pointed out, which were that I was drawing back not at a 45 degree angle from Uke, but straight back/parallel to him (in which his arm is still close to his centre); and that at the same time, I wasn't drawing my own, "grabbed" arm back in towards my own centre for stability.  After some more practice with trying to make these adjustments, I also found that I was drawing my grabbed hand back down in a straight motion instead of in a rounded, leading motion (first forward, then back) --- this extra type of movement proved necessary when trying to throw Sempai Jim, who is not only taller, but much larger than me, and thus whose centre is not moved easily. :)

Heck, I'd say the most fun is in trying to figure things out for yourself! Great way to end the week.  Speaking of the week, I've been doing four out of five classes a week these days (I volunteer to teach ESL to refugees on Wednesdays) but I'm really wanting to get some students together to bring back Saturday classes (or Sunday, whatever works best for everyone)...hope it flies! ]]></body>
	<date>10-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="346">
	<title><![CDATA[Contact]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It was a fairly typical Thursday night, starting off with some Jo practice --- mostly running through the katas, etc. (I really need more practice on the 31-step...we don't run through it all that often, so I don't yet know it from memory --- this aside, I think I kept up pretty decently, considering :) ).

Afterwards, we did a variety of waza from Ushiro grabs, such as Kokyuho and Shihonage to name just a couple.  I got to thinking more about the role of one's awareness of contact in terms of honing that "sixth sense" that one needs for such techniques; I think I might have touched upon this in an entry on "Feeling Uke", but of course, here it is again. :)

I suppose one of the more obvious things that makes Aikido unique from other martial arts is that one intentionally maintains a kind of continuous contact with one's attacker --- notwithstanding grappling and wrestling arts such as Jiujutsu and Sumo, the other "punching and kicking" martial arts are based upon quickly subduing one's opponent from more of a distance and thus with as little contact with them as possible (ie. strike and recoil; jab and chamber, in the case of punching).  

Now, the way I see this is that the less contact, the less risk to oneself.  Aikido then, in contrast, puts one at greater risk by prolonging contact with one's opponent.  In doing so, it likewise requires a greater confidence and/or faith in that one can successfully control another person in close quarters, and blend with their energy without being overcome by it.  I once read someone describe the challenge of Aikido as not only being able to control and maintain your own centre, but at the same time the centre of another --- in essence, that you must maintain and control the point of contact between you and your opponent as a third centre.  Quite the challenge (especially for me, constantly struggling to maintain my balance after throwing larger ukes who breakfall and naturally drag 'lil ol' me with it! :) )  But we accept this risk and this challenge because we do not wish to permanently damage our opponent, so it is well worth it.     ]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="345">
	<title><![CDATA[[Poem] I Will Not]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Originally written on 05.20.03, but once again, I find that I need to revisit it:

I will not
be bound
by your words, and

I will not
submit
to your terms.

You think 
that I should 
give a damn?

But you
can't tell me 
who and what I am! ]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="343">
	<title><![CDATA[A Tribute to Sempai Garry :)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Hmm...okay, so I lied (albeit inadvertently) --- this entry's late too, as we're still working through some computer issues at home...in the meantime, I'm waiting with bated breath ;) to receive the pics from Monday night, which apparently turned out "great".

On a happy note, (just as I had gone out and bought him a farewell card, no less) Sempai Garry, who had earlier decided to quit Aikido due to health reasons, will be back and training with us in February!  Dave and I are both really glad that his "fighting Irish spirit" won't be keeping him away from the dojo for good after all. :)

We focused primarily on defenses from Munetsuki last night, then applied these in a couple of rounds each of Jiyu Waza/Randori.  The techniques were:

Iriminage (direct entry) --- and here's my tribute to Sempai Garry's infamous stall words while figuring out a technique --- "so I need to...":
- Make sure my hands are palm up when sweeping up under uke's chin, and then turn them downwards while finishing stably in a squatting stance.

Iriminage (indirect entry), "so I'm going to...":
- Remember to make a cupping motion around uke's head with my hand while finishing of the throw.
 
Kotegaeshi:
- As always, step back as much as possible to stretch uke out while going into the last part of Kotegaeshi. 

Yes, I know...another dull entry about technique.  Sorry --- I know I could make things a little more interesting, but then that would just get me in trouble!  Best to save all that for the Private entries.  ;) ]]></body>
	<date>10-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="341">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido Caught on Tape]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Now that I have your attention... ;)

Well, I got my computer up and running again (no problem --- I just replaced the power supply, and while I was at it, added an extra fan to the case) so there should be no problem getting an entry up on tonight's class.

In the meantime, here's the late one for last night (Monday):

We started things off with the usual Monday night fare: Bokken practice, namely some katas and some waza...I'm guessing that Sensei wanted us to do a nice variety of stuff since his brother came by to videotape/take still shots of us for the webpage, which I'll be be able to update with the new pics (hopefully soon...*taps foot impatiently*).

My theory was pretty well confirmed when he had us do the ukemi drill portion of our warmup (not typical for Mondays) --- I'm hoping that if we get to watch it, we can critique/troubleshoot our rolling.

We went on to do some Shomenuchi Ikkyo (Suwari Waza), and I need to really get more smoothness into it (not to mention better timing); I've also been finding that keeping uke's elbow controlled initially has been difficult for me as of late --- it will bend on me a lot instead of being stable and locked, and I am unsure if this is right (it doesn't feel right).  Other things I need to note:
- Use hip in final move to bring uke's arm completely flat on the mat
- Pin stably with arm just above perpendicular to uke's body, with inner knee against uke's armpit and the other against his wrist

The night continued with Shomenuchi Shihonage and ended with Ryokatadori Kokyunage (for which I need to remember to slide back initially to receive the grab in order to stretch uke out, since I'm smaller and naturally have smaller strides/take smaller steps).

As for being taped doing Aikido, I don't think I was very self-conscious about it --- I definitely made an effort to ignore that it was even there (since he ranged all over the place), but other than that it was pretty normal.  Speaking of being taped, Sensei and Sempai Jeremy were on A Channel's "The Big Breakfast" again this morning, though of course I missed it (not having a TV) and I forgot to get friends/family to tape it for me. :( ]]></body>
	<date>10-21-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="338">
	<title><![CDATA[Yes, More Dull Notes on Technique]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...because I'm way too tired and sleepy right now for much profound thought.  Unfortunately, I've been fairly busy and haven't had a chance to do a journal entry for last night (Thursday) --- and it won't happen because aside from Jo practice and a bit of Jiyu Waza/Randori at the end I recall little else, most likely due to getting just 3 hours of sleep last night.

So I'm fading fast right now (as commendable as it is that I've held out for this long), but before I conk out completely, I'd better try to recall as much as I can from tonight's class.  We began with Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi (Suwari Waza) --- in which (thanks to Sempai Jeremy) I need to remember to perform the technique with the rolling motion over to the side instead of straight downwards (as I'm in the bad habit of doing).

The rest of the night was devoted to defenses from Bokken attacks, such as:
Shomenuchi Kokyunage, Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi (Standing), and Shomenuchi Iriminage; after which, we did a few rounds of Jiyu Waza/Randori --- just an atemi to the ribs and while getting out of the way of Shomenuchi Bokken strikes --- mucho fun. :)

Shomenuchi Kotegaeshi - remember to:
- grasp uke's hand at the base of the thumb and bring right into centre; direct his energy around side of my body instead of trying to forcibly pull him around
- looking to the side will turn my body and consequently provide enough "safe" space between me and uke 

Shomenuchi Kokyunage:
- need more practice "finding" taller uke's elbow consistently

Shomenuchi Iriminage:
- turn uke's chin back instead of to the side
- keep shin of levering leg right against uke's body during pin

*Yawn* --- goodnight folks!



  ]]></body>
	<date>10-18-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="334">
	<title><![CDATA[Observation and the Third Person]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night we started things off with Katadori Nikkyo (Suwari Waza), and continued on with more Nikkyo for the remainder of the night (two different versions of "standing" Katadori Nikkyo, and Kousadori Nikkyo); to round things off, Sensei gave our wrists a bit of a break...er, rest ;) with some Kousadori Yonkyo.

Regrettably, I didn't get a chance to do a couple of the techniques at all (namely, the second version of Katadori Nikkyo and Kousadori Yonkyo) due to being in a group of three for most of the night and there not being enough time for everyone to cycle through.  

This process naturally takes a little longer with the new students, as they're seeing and trying to do these techniques for the very first time.  But I don't mind so much (even though I'm always itching to try something for myself) --- this of course has its advantages as well.  As the third person, not only do I get to watch Sensei demonstrate the more fundamental aspects of a technique to the new students, but I also get to observe at least one other pair's practice at the same time.  As I've found in the past, having the time to focus on observing in this different perspective definitely has its benefits.  I'm guessing that the more perspectives in which I can observe the same technique over time (even aside from doing it firsthand --- the first-person/subjective perspective), the more I might be better able to react from an attack regardless of where it originates or what little I might see of it.  (Though I'm also assuming that simple observation such as this is obviously not as valuable in this context as being sensitive to feeling uke's energy --- something that can only be acheived through firsthand experience. :) )  

So am I stretching it, or what?  ;)  Okay, so maybe I'm just slightly disappointed about not getting to try every technique last night (heh --- I'm such a keener)...but then again, the way I see it, my patience in these matters is simply an investment towards helping some newer students learn and grow.  Anyway, I always like to look on the bright side of life.  Great.  Now I have that song from Monty Python's "Life of Brian" in my head! :)

Misc. Nikkyo Notes to Self...
Katadori Nikkyo 1:
- Step to the side and atemi are simultaneous
- Remember to swing lead leg back to give more space between me and uke prior to performing Nikkyo
Nikkyo Osae (Pin):
- Keep control of arm from the mat position by keeping one hand holding uke near elbow, bending his elbow and quickly bringing arm up and around while bringing own body around; uke's arm should rest in crook of own elbow while pinning

   ]]></body>
	<date>10-15-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="326">
	<title><![CDATA[Troubleshooting Ukemi]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight we started off with Shomenuchi Sankyo (Suwari Waza), followed by Katatedori Kotegaishi and Katatedori Iriminage(?).  We used the latter two techniques to complete the class in about three rounds each of the slowed-down Jiyu Waza we've done before --- it was a nice, satisfying way to end the week.

I was finding myself taking slightly harsher breakfalls than usual (banged a couple of my smaller toes repeatedly while hitting the mat --- not a typical thing for me) and I'm theorizing that perhaps I wasn't reaching for the mat with my hand enough.  So I tried to do this (or so I believed), and still found that my feet and legs would be hitting the mat first (ouch).  I even made a concerted effort to "think light", get up on my toes, and provide a fair amount of absorption/energy on my part in going over, but to no avail.  

Funny thing is, I've found that there will be times when Sensei throws me (which is generally faster than others would) and I usually feel fine when I hit the mat --- I know it sounds counter-intuitive, but I wonder if it's the extra momentum that does it?  Perhaps the faster speed of the throw forces my body to stretch out flat as it's going down (as was suggested not long ago on one of the forum threads).  

The more I think about making adjustments to my own ukemi, the more I end up feeling like I'm troubleshooting software:

1.  Are you reaching for the mat well ahead of your body?  YES NO
2.  Are you "thinking light"? YES NO
etc. etc. and so on and so forth.

Hehehe --- if only I could just hit Ctrl-Alt-Delete to reboot myself and fix it that way! ;) But that wouldn't be as interesting.  

Then again, come to think of it, maybe we do "reboot" ourselves in a manner of speaking:  when we allow ourselves time to clear our mind, relax, and then approach things again with a refreshed and renewed mindset.  Now THAT's interesting... ]]></body>
	<date>10-11-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="323">
	<title><![CDATA[Losing Zanshin]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We started off our Thursday night with Jo practice as usual, which was fine...I surprised myself during most of the striking drills we did by keeping up with Sensei when he sped things up a bit (no mean feat at times).  I've been feeling my left (non-dominant) side becoming stronger with the Jo these days with additional practice.

I wish I could sound as confident about the rest of the night.  After a centering exercise (typical for Thursdays) we went into some Tae Sebaki (I suppose to make up for not doing it on Tuesday) which started out fine for me.  After some disturbing observations in class, my troubled mind had drifted around the time of the second last technique we did and I found myself watching Sensei demonstrate but I didn't really absorb it --- as though I could see everything happening but nothing was retained.  It was the very first time that had ever happened to me.  My focus was broken and I had to try to regain it, but it wasn't without difficulty.

When I try to look back at my lack of focus with as objective an eye as possible (for self-observation), I see myself as someone who, when faced with serious concern for others, can become emotional in their defense.  It was this emotion that I was struggling so hard against on the mats...trying so hard to control, to wash away even, just to regain my focus again.  I found myself teetering on the edge --- at one point constantly on the brink of losing my reserve.  Silence has never been something I relish, especially when it comes to things that should be vocalized to protect another (luckily it wasn't anything that required immediate attention --- otherwise I would have said something right away).  Yet I am afraid that in respect to protocol, I will most likely have to live with this self-imposed silence for some time, aside from perhaps some momentary release by bringing the issue up with Sensei so that he may deal with it (as is his place and not mine) and take the weight off my shoulders in this respect.

Heh --- I'm sure that folks who have little concern for others must live such carefree lives; I bet they're able to train away with complete and utter abandon --- ignorance must surely be bliss!  ;)

I think I've made this sufficiently cryptic. :)  Thank heavens for "Private" journal entries. ]]></body>
	<date>10-10-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="318">
	<title><![CDATA[Budo as Escapism]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight we did a fair amount of Randori/Jiyu Waza, which --- as always --- I simply (for lack of a better expression) adore.  A lot of the time, I find that there comes a point when the outside world seems to fall away and you're completely wrapped up in the moment, in a feeling of euphoria that comes with feeling somehow attuned with both yourself and your surroundings.  

I don't know if I've touched on this before in this journal, but if I have I'm pretty sure I haven't yet fleshed it out much, so here's a start.  I guess this implies a bit of escapism to a certain extent, in that I lose myself in my focus and take great pleasure in it.  Yet at times I feel a bit of guilt over my favourite pasttime --- it's like people I know look at me and figure I have the grand luxury of time and energy to spend foolishly playing around on the mats all the time instead of on greater pursuits (namely, owning a home and starting a family like most folks I know).  I'd like to think that Aikido is in itself a great pursuit, a life-altering experience of continual challenges, growth, and self-improvement.  

But at what point does Aikido go from being a part of your life to being your life?  Not that long ago, I was seriously entertaining the thought of passing on an invitation to visit friends and their newborn first child in favour of training that night instead.  In my mind, it was training that was winning the argument.  I had to pretty well slap myself to snap out of it.  Is it possible to be addicted to Aikido?  Heh --- could you imagine, "Doctor, is there something I can take for my Aikido addiction?"

I'd say more practice is definitely needed to help expound on things further. ;)  In the meantime, I could do with a lot less nagging from my family to buy a house and start popping out the babies, that's for sure. :) ]]></body>
	<date>10-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="315">
	<title><![CDATA[An EEEEPing Good Time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We had a nice turnout tonight with seven of us in total on the mats, and a good time was had by all.  It got quite lighthearted early on while we were doing Bokken practice, ever since Sensei lined us all up to each shomenuchi and kiai as loud as we could because he was disatisfied with what he was hearing earlier.  Well, when it got to one of the new students, he let out a loud kiai that sounded like he was yelling, "YIP!" and Dave (thinking that it was Sempai Jim) burst out laughing, which set me off too.  

Afterwards, we continued to train, and from the corner we heard Jim let out a "Yee haw!" as a kiai, which made us chuckle, and to which Sensei said, "I don't care what kind of sound you make, as long as it's a loud one."

At this point, not wanting to be outdone, I followed suit and as I attacked Sempai Garry, let out a loud and drawn out impersonation of Garry's trademark kiai --- "EEEEEEEP!", which sent both him and Dave roaring.  "Hey, imitation's the sincerest form of flattery, Garry." I said, laughing.  I guess we were all in a silly mood.

After Bokken practice we didn't do Tae Sebaki, but had a regular-style class instead --- possibly because we had a couple walk-in who wanted to watch the class as we were about to get into the second part of the night.  We started off with: 

Shomenuchi Ikkyo (Suwari Waza) 
- don't forget to cup uke's elbow all the way around and 
- don't twist hand at wrist but just grasp around wrist on this one 

and did some 

Shomenuchi Iriminage 
- don't forget block upon entering for 5th kyu testing
- use drop of whole body/centre to bring uke down, be stable in an even horse-riding stance/squat
- also pay attention to the ukemi on this one --- as uke, swing outside leg around for faster movement 

Katatedori Shihonage with the new students, and ending with a kind of 

Kokyunage from Katadori 
- remember to keep elbows in and 
- project outwards during throw
- as uke, keep momentum/energy of attack --- don't stop and brace yourself

I have to make a mental note to tell Garry not to be ashamed of his kiai --- we were watching a video I downloaded recently, and there was footage of O Sensei doing some Bokken practice...his kiais sounded just like Garry's infamous "EEEEP"s. :) ]]></body>
	<date>10-07-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="311">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally for the Past Week]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:

- being sick and only being able to get out to train twice this week

:) Gains:

- a speedier recovery than usual, since I gave my body more time to rest
- more practice listening to my own body and learning how to better take care of it (since Happy Bod = ability to give 100% on the mats, after all)  ]]></body>
	<date>10-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="307">
	<title><![CDATA[On Feeling Disadvantaged...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We started the evening off with Shomenuchi Yonkyo (Suwari Waza).  I need to keep in mind that:
- the hand that applies Yonkyo is the one from the inside, and does so from the inside (heeheehee --- oops!) :)
- it's easier to take uke's centre if you cast upwards and towards him (so that his elbow is pointing up) prior to casting down

After this, we spent the rest of the night doing a variety of techniques from tanto attacks, such as:  Nikyo from a thrust to the chest, Iriminage from a series of yokomenuchi-like slashes to the neck, and Sankyo from a thrust the chest.  It was during this latter technique that I was (as usual) having difficulty maintaining my grip while trying to apply Sankyo with one hand (as I have very small hands) and wrenching the knife out with the other.  At this point Sensei recommended that I do Sankyo two-handed, grab the knife more stably this way, drop the knife, then apply the full Sankyo into the throw while putting more pressure (not with the hand that was losing its grip around uke's palm) but with the other hand, around the part of uke's hand near his fingertips.

This of course gave me much better control, but it led me to think about the possibility of there being disadvantages to being smaller in Aikido...which I know is insane because, heck --- O Sensei was just barely smaller than I am (and I'm 5'1" ), not to mention the undoubtedly great number of small Japanese shihans out there!  But then, those were and are exceptional people.  And I...well, I am just a small Filipino girl with very little exceptional about me at all. :)  In any case, I know that of course (as a martial art developed, in general, by smaller-than-average Asian folks such as myself) Aikido is said to be effective for all people regardless of their size, but would my Aikido be merely adequate compared to those who are larger and essentially have more options with techniques?  Once again, a seemingly silly question when faced with the thought of O Sensei, but perhaps a viable one nonetheless...  

Take for example, Sankyo, as I was describing earlier.  A larger person would have the ability to either apply Sankyo with one hand (maintaining good control while doing so) and simultaneously be able to hold (and thus control) the knife with the other, or they could do the technique the way I have (no choice but) to do it, which can ultimately make their Sankyo even more powerful.

On the one hand (no pun intended), I could either be feeling a little insecure, being the only student who it seems must be given the most concessions or adaptations to technique because of my size.  Or on the other hand, I am simply making the mistake of equivocating the quality of one's Aikido with the number of options available to them in a technique.  Or perhaps it's a little bit of both.  Perhaps I should instead simply view the "disadvantage" as a gift:  a constant opportunity to learn for myself how to adapt to attackers of various sizes.         



  ]]></body>
	<date>10-03-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="305">
	<title><![CDATA[Patterns]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, not so much of a training week has passed for me --- I caught a cold on Monday just as we were coming back into town and figured that I ought to not only stay away for the sake of preventing everyone else from catching it, but to get better more quickly by getting more rest.  After trying to train while sick at June's seminar in Dryden, I'm not making that same mistake twice!  So I go back to work and to the dojo for the first time today in almost a week from staying away, and what do you know --- most everyone has already caught whatever's been floating around and have been going to work or Aikido anyway, so my good intentions in that respect turned out to be all for nought. :(  On the plus side, I have been recovering faster, so something good came of it.  :)

But I digress...tonight's practice was not as frustrating for me as it normally would have been, so perhaps I'm gaining a little more patience with myself after all. :) We mostly did techniques involving leading tonight (originating from katatedori/kosadori), and the big problem (which became a pattern) for me was for the most part during techniques where I am leading uke with my arm over my head --- I tend to end up using shoulder strength (as Sensei pointed out to me many times) instead of my hips/centre.  In general, I need to relax my arm more and bend at the elbow (as in kokyuho) or move with my whole body, keeping my elbow bent and in my centre or on my centreline before turning (as in other techniques).  

The more I think about it, the more I believe that this bad habit is due to my becoming overly-accustomed to our having done more of the techniques that require a solid extension against uke (as in blocking or "catching" to blend with atemi), and in which one's elbows are fairly rigid/in a static position when entering in order to avoid being hit.  Being someone who loves to find the underlying principles/patterns behind things, I feel the need to generalize in this way; so given what I've seen so far, when it comes to blending/leading techniques (such as from katatedori/kosadori, etc.) it's easier to blend when one bends at the elbow; when it comes to blocking, the extension and partial locking of the elbow (in a bent position) are necessary.  Or so I am led to believe.  Only time and experience will tell if these observations of mine ultimately hold water. :)
 ]]></body>
	<date>10-02-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="299">
	<title><![CDATA[A Life's Kiai]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, last week --- I forsee --- will most likely be my last full week of training in a while, for this week my Wednesday and Thursday nights were occupied (and Wednesdays will be in future with volunteer ESL teaching) not on the mats as per usual but in a manner that I daresay was just as rewarding and no less befitting someone seeking a martial way.

Welcoming a New Aikidoka into the World...

Wednesday evening, Dave and I visited with some close friends and their newborn daughter.  Despite the new parents' exhaustion, they still invited us over, and we weren't about to shun the opportunity to give them our support and meet baby Dayna.  

Now, babies are indeed fascinating creatures --- though they are not yet able to communicate with us using the kind of verbal language we are accustomed to, it's not for lack of trying in the least. :)  They are perfectly aware of their own self-interests and do not hesitate for one moment to attempt expressing these needs to you, and wholeheartedly so!  Our friend the new father told us of how baby Dayna would get so upset about something completely unbeknownst to him, screaming at the top of her tiny lungs to either be fed, burped or changed --- all her limbs and digits splayed out in rage.  And so little Dayna, it seems, already has very little trouble sharing her martial spirit and kiai with the world!

"For Whom You Fight..."

As my friends and I walked down our inner city streets Thursday night chanting and yelling at the top of our lungs with hundreds of other girls and women during our city's annual "Take Back the Night" rally and march --- as we heard tales of and protested violence against women until both our hearts and throats were made raw by screaming --- my memory could not help but drift back to the night before.  Cradling little Dayna, who had just come into this world, in my arms as she slept peacefully oblivious to anything else; my friend, her mother sighing wearily, looking at her first child and only half-facetiously saying, "When Dayna cries, I wonder if she's complaining, 'What kind of a world have you brought me into, mommy!'"

Baby Dayna, sleeping without a care in the world, who knows not the agonies and abuse that other girls and women have suffered and continue to suffer --- let us hope that she never has to experience this for herself.  Baby Dayna, screaming from her very core to express her needs and who knows neither suppression, intimidation nor fear --- let us hope that she never has to know the pain of submission and silence.  

We ourselves cannot afford to be silent.  We cannot afford to ignore what is going on all around us and we cannot help but be concerned for the world we will be leaving to future generations.  Our own kiai and projections of our martial spirit should not end with our practice, to be dusted off and used only for when we have stepped onto the mats, then to be packed away like a worn dogi when we leave them.  I do not believe that this is what O Sensei intended when he said that Aikido was to be a way to bring peace and harmony to the world.  No --- we should kiai with our very existence, scream with our whole being, and shatter the stifling silence with our martial spirit in all that we do. ]]></body>
	<date>09-27-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="292">
	<title><![CDATA[Patience]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...or rather, my lack thereof. :)

As you might have guessed, the perfectionist in me is struggling with...well...imperfection.  I try not to let it irk me, especially on the mats, but still can't help pushing myself.  I suppose that this kind of internal motivation is fine until it becomes self-destructive, and I certainly don't let it go that far.  Regardless, I should cut myself some slack.  I've only been doing this for about a year in total, after all --- what should I expect?  Evidently more, judging from the standards I set for myself. :P

Slowing my techniques down has been helping considerably.  It's as though I've alleviated myself somewhat of the pressure (ironically, also of my own doing) to do things fast and hard like some of my Sempais (it's so easy to get caught up in, especially when you're partnered with them)...instead, I can concentrate on what I'm doing in a step-by-step yet continuous manner while easily making any necessary adjustments on the fly.  It's like I'm shifting myself back into "Beginner Gear" all over again.  Whatever it is, I'm finding it way more rewarding than ever before. 

Introspection helps a lot too. :)

Tonight we did (random notes):

Shomenuchi Nikkyo (Suwari Waza)
- having trouble (as always, since I have such small hands) rolling uke's hand over into mine for Nikkyo...it seems to help when I keep the palm of my hand in contact with the back of uke's throughout the whole rolling motion, and if I keep uke's hand raised up slightly in comparison to his shoulder (also seems to give better control)

Shomenuchi Iriminage
- step in to enter (don't slide) and block just below uke's elbow, standing off of his line of attack
- downward cutting motion should be simultaneous with lead leg coming around and dropping centre
- get in close, hip to hip
- step in during final part of throw ]]></body>
	<date>09-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="291">
	<title><![CDATA[Kokyuho and...more Kokyuho]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[You won't be getting a deeply profound journal entry from me tonight because frankly, I'm way too busy at the moment.  Apologies --- hopefully I'll be returning to my usual state of mind sometime soon. ;)

We didn't do Tae Sabaki tonight after Bokken...instead, we did some:
Katatetori Kokyuho
Tsuki Kokyuho
and 
The Technique Which Cannot Be Named (teehee...bit of a Lord of the Rings in-joke --- only those of you who read the books will get it :) ) --- it cannot be named because Sensei didn't mention the name, and its one distinguishing feature for me is that when Dave does the throw, he looks like a big white bird flapping its wings :P  

So, if any of you kind and knowledgeable folks out there in Aikiweb-land can tell me the name of the technique where nage looks like a big white bird flapping its wings, please let me know.  If I keep referring to it as such (comical as it is), this will no longer continue to sound like Aikido but some form of Kung Fu. :D

Ask and ye shall receive...
We did more slow-motion Randori (er, Jiyu Waza) to tie in the techniques we practiced tonight, though we only had time for just one round.  It doesn't even matter much to me that my own round was so horrible --- I'm just so happy we did it! ]]></body>
	<date>09-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="287">
	<title><![CDATA[This Week's No Pain, No Gain Tally]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:

- Minor bruising here and there (what else is new?) from a couple of awkward breakfalls...not too shabby!

- A bit of stiffness in the shoulders and neck (no idea from what though)

- That's it!  Woohoo!

:) Gains:

- Another full week of classes!  Lookin' good...

- A growing understanding of the value in: 
feeling uke
taking things slowly
controlled breathing

- Rewarding experiences during Slow-Motion Randori --- okay, so it was fun.  What else is new? ;) ]]></body>
	<date>09-21-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="285">
	<title><![CDATA[More on Timing...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Friday night, we did a lot of throws from Ushiro Ryotekubitori; according to Sensei, so that we can get practice feeling uke's centre even when he is not directly within our sight (see last entry on a similar note).  While we did these, I found that a great deal of what one might consider "good timing" in technique seems to very much depend upon knowing how to feel uke's centre being taken in relation to how you keep your own centre rooted.  It seems that if your timing is off by just a little bit --- either too soon or too late --- especially with your leading movements, either uke's balance will not be taken at all, or your own balance will be in jeopardy.

Perhaps it's for this reason that I'm enjoying "leading" techniques such as these more and more these days; having to make a split-second adjustment to adapt to the subtleties of uke's movements can really feel satisfying during those rare moments when I feel like I've actually gotten the hang of our flow, so to speak.  Though these moments are indeed few and far between for me right now, when they do happen, it can only be described as a very rewarding experience!  An experience I hope to repeat. :)

Random notes...
Ryokatadori Kokyuho (Suwari Waza):
- While dropping centre, cut inside one of uke's elbows down in a round (almost spiralling/corkscrew-ish) fashion; this can also be done so that his elbow becomes folded right into his centre (if uke happens to be loosely grabbing already, otherwise snap upwards under his elbows to hyperextend them prior to initial cut down)
- I noticed that Sensei will already move slightly to the side while doing this (above), but will perform the complete pivot while:
- With other hand under uke's other (now upper) elbow, twist over while completing pivot to uke's side (the movement seems to give added leverage); try to avoid getting thumb trapped (ouch!) during this by pushing elbow with whole hand around it (instead of with one thumb under the elbow and the other fingers wrapped around)
- Move in close to uke and pin so that his upper elbow is hyperextended; yokomenuchi with free hand ]]></body>
	<date>09-20-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="284">
	<title><![CDATA[Slow-Motion Randori]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[After the usual Jo practice Thursday night, we were pleasantly (albeit unexpectedly) surprised to be given the opportunity to do Randori again...slowed-down.  *cue Matrix-esque bullet-time music here*

It was thought that perhaps Sensei had grown wary of the rate of injury during full-speed Randori, had read of this idea somewhere and decided to try it out --- whatever the case, it was a welcome break from test stuff which, as one of my Sempais pointed out, can get rather tedious after a while.  Suffice it to say, I for one wasn't about to look a gift-Randori in the mouth. :)

Slowing things down meant that instead of only being able to do one (or maybe two) rounds of Randori at the most in a night, we were each now afforded the ability to do no less than three rounds of Randori per technique (Katatetori Shihonage - omote and ura, and Tsuki Kotegaishi) as nage, as opposed to our typically being winded after just one round each.  It also meant being able to try timing one's movements better, and in doing so, better overcoming the tightness and frantic desperation of the whole fight-or-flight adrenaline rush.  Well, at least for me it did. ;)

I made a great effort against my own natural "combat-mode" urges (as once mentioned here before) in order to go slow and steady both as uke and nage, and I think that deliberately slowing down my breathing helped keep this pace.  This must have also increased my concentration somewhat, for I even resisted getting caught up in the knee-jerk impulse to respond with faster attacks when one nage started speeding up his techniques to nearly full-speed.

As for my own technique, I can't help thinking about how great it felt to be able to really focus on blending and timing one's movements, particularly in how uke felt in response to them.  Sensei drew our attention to the importance of keeping an eye on the next uke just as soon as the first is going down, especially while doing Kotegaishi.  The process of trying to get the hang of this was quite the revelation for me; it got to the point where at times I was no longer needing to see the first uke so much as feel him in order to maintain control while keeping on the lookout for the next uke.  (I can just hear my old boss Doug, who has been blind since birth, laughing at me, "What do you think I've been doing my whole life, kiddo?" )  This, coupled with having the new experience of actually being able to move uke into a position with my technique so that I could see the next uke better not only gave me a greater sense of awareness but of control as well.  Having "tasted" this once for the very first time, I am loath to let go of it, and will strive to achieve this awareness and control again and again.

I really hope we do this again.  Oh Randori...how I've missed you. ]]></body>
	<date>09-20-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="277">
	<title><![CDATA[Breathe]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For tonight's class, I decided to concentrate primarily on my breathing --- all through the warm-up, and for as long as I was able to focus on it for the rest of the night.

The first thing I noticed was how contrived concentrating on one's breathing feels --- it almost felt laboured in a way.  After all, we generally take breathing for granted and let our body naturally handle its own air intake as needed.  

Eventually, however, I began to feel more synchronicity, more in unison --- so to speak --- with my body, particularly when I coupled "contrived" breathing with movements during techniques.  Controlled breathing during the ukemi drills, for the most part, gave me a greater feeling of energy, so long as we did not pause for too great a length of time in between rolls (which made me dizzy and threw my breathing off :) ).

Later in the evening, when my rate of breathing increased (naturally due to increased activity), I would find that in moments of fatigue, a slow inhalation and exhalation (I'm not sure if this was a subconscious response or deliberate on my part --- for the life of me, I can't remember) had an almost "cleansing" effect on me --- it felt as though my body was purging all of its tension in order to ready myself just before embarking on another exertion.

Curiouser, and curiouser. ;)

Random technique notes and adjustments...

Shomenuchi Sankyo (suwari waza):
- "new" way...slide hand down and roll uke's hand over (twisting with palm on back of his hand) before retaining Sankyo with other hand; with newly freed hand, hook thumb in crook of uke's elbow for control and push while moving forward

Yokomenuchi Shihonage:
- remember to enter in deeper (and consequently more quickly) for taller ukes such as Sempai Jim
- don't pause hand at top of block, but cut down
- may have to duck lower at times (at end of pivot) in order to make sure uke's elbow folds in and wrist gets pinned to shoulder properly
- don't cut straight down, but aim for creating an arc towards centre

Darn details! :) ]]></body>
	<date>09-18-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="275">
	<title><![CDATA[Yet More Shihonage, Slow and Steady :-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Not much to report...we did some atemi drills for the benefit of the new students, then broke up into groups and Dave and I worked on Shomenuchi Shihonage.

Things I need to keep conscious of:
- after blocking, slide rear leg back at about 45 degrees from uke's line of attack
- making sure uke's hand is locked against his shoulder before cutting down (especially on less tall ukes, such as Sempai Tim --- things seem to work fine when I'm working with much taller ukes)

I've been doing Shihonage at a slower pace (not only to help baby Dave's sore wrist) but to watch my own technique more closely, and I think it's helping; I'm making adjustments as I go along whenever things don't feel right.

It's nice to have the opportunity to work on one technique for a long period of time --- I'm sure the new students also really appreciate the ability to concentrate on a single technique at a time like this too; after all, it's overwhelming enough for them as it is. :)

As an aside:  Dave's breakfalls are scary ---we all cringe whenever he does them.  His body has a tendency to turn over on its side and he'll barrel roll in mid-air with his legs out to the side (instead of going up and over) and he'll land awkwardly in a manner that looks most painful...it worries me sometimes.  Hopefully he'll improve on them soon. ]]></body>
	<date>09-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="271">
	<title><![CDATA[Feeling Uke]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I am at the point where more and more, I am valuing any opportunities I can get to train with different people.  We had another visitor from out of town train with us tonight, and although I had been looking forward to being able to "feel" the Aikido of someone different and new to me, I had very little chance to do so, as Sensei had for the most part split up the class' lessons between those students who are ranked and those who are not (such as myself).  Hopefully, there will be more chances in the coming week while he's in town --- as I feel that I am gaining much more insight into my own Aikido the more I am exposed to another's.  

In any case, everyone's body is built and moves differently, thus giving one the task of having to adapt accordingly; at the very least, having new and different ukes gives me good practice in responsiveness.  Which reminds me:  a new student was uke for me while we were doing Katatetori Shihonage, and (like with the other new student last week) I was finding that after I pivoted, uke's arm would never be in a tightly locked position; instead, it would be outwards behind their neck in that scary break-arm position (somewhat due to the new uke's impulse to twist out of the arm lock).  I finally realized that so long as I kept my arm and elbow level under uke's throughout the entire turn/pivot, uke's wrist would ultimately end up in the locked position, flush with his/her shoulder --- thereby solving the problem.

Great.  So long as I consistently remember to take things slow --- wouldn't want to build up any bad habits while doing things fast all the time.  This in itself is a bad habit of mine. I'm even getting teased by my Sensei about it; he's calling me "the Bruce Lee of Aikido". :) ]]></body>
	<date>09-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="266">
	<title><![CDATA[This Week's No Pain, No Gain Tally]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:

- Really dark bruise (unusual for me) on my inner leg...probably from banging the insides of my knees together during tobu ukemi; thank goodness for Arnica cream
- Strained right calf earlier in the week (don't ask how, because I have no idea)
- Sore legs, mostly in the upper thighs --- guess I'd better get used to it!

:) Gains:

- A full week of classes --- yay!
- Feeling better while doing breakfalls; they're getting more comfortable (if that's at all possible)
- Being able to focus more on feeling one's partner, and what's behind my Aikido rather than simply the forms (which it has been very easy to get carried away with, as I'm a beginner)
- Finding the time to consider the concepts of leadership, awareness, perspective, and harmony in Aikido a little more
- Experiencing firsthand harmony in a technique from an uke's perspective

Enjoy your weekend, everyone!
 ]]></body>
	<date>09-13-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="265">
	<title><![CDATA[Finding (or Creating?) Harmony]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[You Know it's a Friday When...
- In unison, all the nages stand there with their hands grasped by their ukes, and pause for quite some time trying to figure out what to do.
- Just about everyone is taped up in some way from injury.
- After a just a few breakfalls, everyone is pretty much peeling themselves off the mat. :)

Happy Friday!

Hooray for me, this is the first week I've been able to attend ALL five classes!  Hopefully there won't be anything to drag me away for awhile, and maybe I can actually make it a habit...*knock on wood*

Tonight we did Kaeshi Waza (reversals) from Morotaetori Nikkyo for the most part. I generally find Kaeshi Waza fun, particularly when I feel the blending and flowing of movements into each other, back and forth in harmony with your partner.

Incidentally (or perhaps not), Sensei discussed wanting us to spend the class concentrating less on physical technique and more on our training partners; to think less of competition and more of the principle of love in what we do.  It's interesting that he should mention this, as I've noticed that it seems at times that (though well-meaning, supportive and kind as they can be) some people tend to get into a subconscious mindset in which their training partner has become little more than a body to throw around to get reps in so that they can advance in rank.

Now, in trying to understand the perspectives of these people, I wondered whether or not this was more a tendency to detach oneself from their partner so that they can try to perform a technique quickly and properly without having to worry so much about their uke, rather than a selfish objectifying of another person; the latter seems to be an overly simplistic explanation.  Actually, this reminds me of how, at one point tonight, I was partnered up with Sempai Garry and had to do a breakfall over him as he was in Seiza:  I noticed that whenever I didn't think about it, I would breakfall over him just fine, but that whenever I worried about whether or not I was going to inadvertently hit him while going over, I would screw up the breakfall in some way.

I know that there must be some balance to this.  There came an extremely poignant moment for me when I was uke for Sensei while he was demonstrating a part of the Kaeshi Waza we were doing where uke is thrown downwards with a "hugging" motion.  The thing is, I didn't feel like I was being thrown at all.  Physically, I knew and felt that I was quickly being brought downwards with some force.  Yet this was not what I felt most.  More than anything else, I felt like I was being protected. It was as though I was being gently cradled by something strong that did not want me to get hurt.  It took me by surprise --- I had never seen or felt Sensei be gentle before; controlled, yes, but not particularly gentle.  

I wonder whether this was intentional on Sensei's part; is it that his Aikido is maturing, or instead is it an aspect inherent in his Aikido --- that, as he would say, who you are comes out in your Aikido --- brought about by wanting to be in harmony with your partner?  Or was it simply my own imagination, a mirage brought about by fatigue?  Whatever it was, I think it will always remain for me symbolic of the principles of love and harmony that are at the very foundation of Aikido. ]]></body>
	<date>09-12-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="262">
	<title><![CDATA[Perspective]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We had another new student come in for their first class last night.  Sempai Jeremy added to my earlier reflections, commenting how having new students in the dojo not only draws attention to certain basic aspects of techniques that he might not have realized before, but how seeing new students just starting out really shows you how far you yourself have come.  (Though personally, it doesn't really feel like it most of the time!) :)

Speaking of which, Sempai Tim commented after class how much I've grown as a student, especially in how good my ukemi has been looking lately.  I really need to learn how to take a compliment better.  Such situations are one of the few things that leave me feeling awkward more than anything else, and that's not surprising really, considering how awkward doing techniques felt for me last night.  Heck, the breakfalls were the only thing that felt good. (gasp!) :)

Last night's class really showed me how, on one hand, I may be feeling some progress ---feeling so much better about tobu ukemi (it's like the more I practice it, the more comfortable I'm feeling about it) --- but on the other hand, there are times when I feel like I haven't really gotten anywhere.  It's like a feeling as though I'm going "two steps forward, one step back". 

The first technique we did was Katatetori Shihonage, and you would think that having done it so many times, I would at least remember the opening...but no...even though Sempai Tim demonstrated it for us a couple of times, I still fumbled on the entry when it came time to practice.  Come to think of it, I recall that the angle at which Sempai Tim did the technique was different from that which we are normally used to seeing, so perhaps it simply "tricked" my brain --- a good example of how perspective can really influence one's learning, as I intimated in an earlier entry.  

In any case, it seems that I will have to re-teach my brain into not relying so much on these "outside" perspectives while actually attempting to do a technique, rather, to keep a memory of my own subjective perspective in my mind...but then of course, this conflicts with that loftier goal of wanting to achieve a higher, more omnipresent perspective (see earlier journal entry) at all times --- aaarrrgh, sensory overload!!!!

Random technique notes and observations:

Shomenuchi Ikkyo...
Omote:
- slide in, don't step
- both hands should be up below uke's elbow, one open (as though cutting) just below the elbow, and the other blocking right below that one
- alternative:  on taller ukes, begin by entering in at a more oblique angle to uke, with one hand on his elbow and the other almost immediately sliding down to grasp his wrist; absorb uke's strike right down to my forehead and then simultaneously, with whole body, bring his arm down
Ura:
- step in while absorbing the downward motion of uke's strike and use power in the tenkan
- uke should be down on the mat at the end of the pivot

Tsuki Kokyuho (revisited):
- throwing arm should be positioned under uke's elbow with own elbow down and hand facing up prior to throw ]]></body>
	<date>09-11-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="257">
	<title><![CDATA[Awareness]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A Tuesday, for once...but minus the Randori. *sniffle*

Looks like I'll be able to actually attend Tuesdays for a while, at least until the end of the month when my volunteer ESL teaching should resume (who knows, it might not even be Tuesday nights again).

For the time being, we'll be working on test stuff on Tuesdays instead of Randori in order to prepare for this Fall's testing period (no idea when it will be).  On tonight's menu:

Shomenuchi Nikkyo (Suwari Waza) - Random notes...
Omote:
- keep arms extended (though not locked completely straight) when pinning
Ura:
- pin uke's hand against collarbone/shoulder closest to him, hold in place with opposite hand, and with hand closest to him wrapped around his wrist, settle weight down towards him

Shomenuchi Kotegaishi
- don't step in too closely upon initial entry
- roll hand of blocking arm outwards while turning/tenkan to grab uke's wrist with other hand
- step back a fair amount to "stretch" uke out right before kotegaishi
- remember that kotegaishi is not a pumping motion, but a blending one --- up and around, over and against uke's hand, with my hand straight over his and the middle of my covering palm should be over my thumb; my arms should be extending downwards, as if into my centre
- straighten uke's arm so that his shoulder is flush with and right down to the mat before performing pin with both hands, dropping weight on the back of his down-turned hand
Notes on Breakfalling for Kotegaishi:
- move in quickly (to avoid becoming stretched out) and get up on toes to leap into the breakfall
- keep arm downwards to the side so that it ends up pretty well right next to my body on the mat, as rolling over it is easier (not to mention less hazardous) in this position than trying to bring the arm over while rolling

Tsuki Kokyuho
- step outwards to the side with lead leg
- hook uke's arm inside the elbow with forearm and while moving inside again (triangular entry) drop arm down and towards him (should turn him around)

I notice that there are some notes here that sound awfully familiar, as though I've mentioned them before --- I think I'll go over my old journal entries to note which ones and then come back and put an asterisk next to the ones that seem to be indicative of bad habits on my part --- that way, I can try to pay closer attention to those.

Although most of the time I feel very self-aware of my body in the sense of whether or not a technique is feeling awkward in some way or another, there are times when even though I may feel just fine, there are actually problems with my timing or spacing in relation to my partner --- at times such as these, Sensei will catch them and point them out to me...it's amazing how much our own subjective perspective can really blind us at to a great many things, and how viewing a technique from another angle (even slight) can really change one's awareness of how a technique will work (or not, in my case ;) )  

This makes me wonder if there is a point that one can reach where, even while one is participating in a technique, one can obtain a certain kind of omnipresent perspective of what is going on not only within the small, microcosmic realm of their own immediate experience, but within the greater realm of their environment.  This reminds me a great deal of a biography I read on O Sensei, in which he was described as an extremely hyper-sensitive person who was (almost obsessively so) aware of his surroundings and would react to this awareness very quickly.  I wonder how much of this is an inherent sense, peculiar to a very rare kind of person, and how much of this can be honed through having experienced countless situations.

It seems that my breakfalls are coming along decently, though I wish I could say as much for my Ushiro ukemi...Sensei took the time to critique our rolling tonight, which is always (at least to me) a very good thing, mostly because I really need it.  

When it comes to rolling, I think I understand what adjustments need to be made (I've written about them in detail here before, so I won't repeat them) --- it's just the actual *doing* that's the tricky part. ;) I know that it will come with time and practice, so long as I remain conscious of what needs to be done.  So I suppose all that remains is for me to be patient with myself... ]]></body>
	<date>09-10-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="255">
	<title><![CDATA[New Season, New Students]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We walked into the dojo to see a new (and decidedly female) face on the mats tonight.  I pretty well ran into the men's washroom after Dave to proclaim, "Wow --- there's actually another girl in there!"  I wanted to go up to her and poke her a couple of times to make sure she was for real and not some figment of my imagination.  Obviously, it's been some time since I'd had a fellow female training partner.  So much so, that I was beginning to question my own gender. ;)

I was told that around this time of year (as well as in the New Year), we get an influx of folks inquiring into our dojo and not coincidentally, some new students as well.  With new students comes a different mode of training (at least in smaller dojos such as our own) --- older students get reintroduced to the basics and are given the opportunity to guide another student who is less familiar with the techniques that they take for granted (I would like to say, "that they do now with ease," but everyone would know that I'd be lying ;) ).

It's a great experience for all of us, especially those of us such as myself who are "not-that-much-older students" --- we are made to re-examine the fundamentals of our own techniques and see if they've evolved or deviated at all, for better or for worse (it is as though we are shown a mirror to ourselves and thus are given the awareness to make an adjustment).  

We are also given a training partner who will respond honestly (without the anticipation of seasoned aikidoka) to techniques and whose knee-jerk reactions help us realistically fine-tune what we do.  

Lastly, those of us who wouldn't normally have a chance to do so are made to rise to the challenge of a leadership role:  one in which they must set a helpful, disciplined yet friendly and welcoming example as a member and representative of their dojo.  In being made to guide another, one is also made to re-evaluate themselves.  We take for granted that we normally have the luxury of just concentrating on learning techniques from our own, subjective, perspective.  In orienting a new student, it is as though we have to step outside of ourselves and learn the technique again from another, more objective (and less selfish) perspective in order to help guide them through it.

All this in mind, the introduction of new students means the shaking up of our own complacencies --- something I very much enjoy. ]]></body>
	<date>09-09-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="251">
	<title><![CDATA[The Past Week's No Pain, No Gain Tally]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:
- Very minor Yonkyo bruises (we only did Yonkyo once Friday night, so these don't even come close to the all-over-the-arm bruising I'd normally get from Yonkyo-marathon nights). Nothing that a little Arnica Cream can't handle.
- Not that this is really much of a pain, but ever since I went for a trim, my hair keeps falling into my face annoyingly during training.  This can't be helped, since I'm planning to grow it out really long (past my waist) and then get it all chopped off to donate for the making of Chemo wigs for kids with Cancer (in the meantime, I'm thinking of collecting pledges from friends and family to donate to Cancer Care Manitoba).  I guess when it gets unbearably long, I'll just have to put it into a Pat Hendricks-like braid, and then when I finally donate it all, maybe I'll get them to give me a Mary Heiny-esque short cut.  Or maybe I'll shave it all off and freak out the guys at the dojo. ;)
- Wow...I guess that's it!  No big surprise, since I was only in town for two classes this week.
- Oh yeah --- one more pain:  I could only attend two classes this week. :)

:) Gains:
- Insights from a very interesting book on strategy
- Awareness:  both about being relaxed, and about timing 
- The knowledge that:  less ukemi practice = more dizziness.  Lesson:  practice ukemi whenever possible!
- Some fairly prolific Aikido journal writing :)
- Just finished downloading some more Aikido videos, this time of O Sensei, Saito, Mary Heiny and Gozo Shioda...off to watch them now! ]]></body>
	<date>09-06-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="250">
	<title><![CDATA[<Insert Creative Journal Entry Title Here>]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Friday night was my first "regular" class in about a week, due to being out of town...Sensei had promised the night before that Friday would more than make up for the gentleness of Thursday's class, and not surprisingly, Dave ended up staying home out of sleep deprivation.  Whereas Dave would normally be the one to have difficulty during ukemi, it seemed to be my turn last night --- after the first ten Mai ukemi, I was already dizzy --- so much so, I had to steady myself with one hand on the mat before continuing.  I suppose it can only be expected considering I hadn't done any ukemi in a week or so. 

We began the night's techniques by working on Shomenuchi Yonkyo (Suwari Waza) --- Yonkyo being something that I am still working on, or rather straggling by at, trying to get some form of consistent success out of it.
A couple of things I need to keep in mind --- thanks as usual to Sensei's eagle eye (teehee...I just told him about this journal, so I guess I'd better shine the proverbial apple lest he decide to read this one day ;) ) --- and which seemed to make things work well for me last night were:
- keeping the fingers of my Yonkyo-applying hand wrapped around uke's wrist like a bokken while performing the technique
- while doing the pin, my shin should be inside uke's elbow, and uke's hand should be in front of me while I keep my Yonkyo-applying arm straight and extended, and I drop my weight on it to apply Yonkyo  

The latter part of the class was devoted to techniques stemming from Shomenuchi and Yokomenuchi Bokken attacks.  

Kotegaishi was memorable, as Sempai Tim encouraged me to try breakfalling from it, and I'm glad he did --- after being told by other Sempais how difficult it generally is to breakfall out of Kotegaishi, I was happy to have some practice at it.  

Shihonage from Bokken Yokomenuchi stands out in my mind as having been rather awkward at times, particularly when trying to perform it on a much taller uke (like Sempai Jeremy).  This seemed to be remedied somewhat by torquing the handle of the bokken (also serves the very helpful purpose of turning the blade away from me :)) while going under and around; I'm guessing that this worked well because it turned uke's arms in a position that locked them behind his shoulder more readily --- before I started doing this, I ran into the problem of finding myself with uke's arms and bokken too far out from his body and consequently behind and above me in a place that was not easily within my control, hence the awkwardness. 

During Shihonage, Sensei drew my attention to the fact that I was performing the technique rather quickly and that it would not be wise to do so at this stage of my training until I got the technique down pat.  I gave this further thought and realized that the reasons why I would do the technique so fast were:
- because I think that I sometimes get too carried away in the moment and put myself into a kind of survivalistic "combat mode"; gotta love that adrenalin :)
- to compensate for having to enter into the attack very quickly --- this, coupled with how we are always told to keep performing our techniques at a consistent speed instead of stopping after each movement...naturally, this did not compute, and not only do I have to upgrade my brain's CPU, but I should slow down.  In more ways than one. ;) ]]></body>
	<date>09-06-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="247">
	<title><![CDATA[Unifying Mind and Body]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Thursday nights after Jo practice, we have been doing more Ki-building, rooting, and centering exercises as of late.  Sensei wants to make this a regular thing, which most of us are quite happy about, it being something we all need a lot of practice doing.

While trying to relax our muscles during the three breathing postures we cycled through, I wondered how much of a fine line there is between ascetic mind-induced numbness to pain, and the placebo-like visualizations we had to use to keep our muscles relaxed while suspending our limbs in awkward, upraised stationary positions.

There came a time when it felt like my mind drifted away into some other place, detached from my body, which was experiencing some discomfort.  It was as though I was aware of the presence of pain, and yet it did not bother me --- I was somewhere else completely.  Is this what ascetics feel in deep meditation?  Like they have somehow gone above the realm of the physical?  

But this distance between mind and body troubled me --- in combat, it would be a very hazardous thing.  And one of the main principles of the art is to unify mind and body, not to separate them with emotional numbness to avoid pain.  This seems to me far above simple asceticism.  To unify mind and body in such a context, then, must be to become relaxed in one's body to the point of going beyond concern for physical discomfort while at the same time keeping a completely sensitive awareness to one's environment and the interactions and contact one's body comes into.

Great.  I can articulate it.  Well, maybe...  Now, if only I can actually do it! :) ]]></body>
	<date>09-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="245">
	<title><![CDATA["A Book of Five Rings" and Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Having finished the book while on my trip, I resolved to take some of it's teachings with me as a reminder throughout my training of some of the theories of strategy which I have been encountering in my own experiences thus far.  (Perhaps in future, should time permit it, I will be able to write about each in further detail.)

Among the notable of Musashi's (more general strategic advice) are:

On understanding underlying principles...
"From one thing, know ten thousand things." 

On timing...
"Timing in strategy cannot be mastered without a great deal of practice."  Tell me about it. :)

On the Way for men to learn his strategy...
"1.  Do not think dishonestly.
2.  The Way is in training.
3.  Become acquainted with every art.
4.  Know the Ways of all professions.
5. Distinguish between gain and loss in worldly matters.
6.  Develop intuitive judgement and understanding for everything.
7.  Perceive those things which cannot be seen.
8.  Pay attention even to trifles.
9.  Do nothing which is of no use."

On one's spiritual bearing...
"Both in fighting and in everyday life you should be deterimined though calm.  Meet the situation without tenseness yet not recklessly, your spirit settled yet unbiased."

On one's gaze...
"In strategy it is important to see distant things as if they were close and to take a distanced view of close things." ]]></body>
	<date>09-04-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="241">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally for the Past Week]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:
- aggravated the old bruises by blocking Yokomenuchi (but they're almost gone now thanks to my Arnica cream!)
- sore leg muscles (serves me right by doing some resistance training Wednesday morning --the same day as an Aikido class)
- time away from the dojo :(

:) Gains:
- spent a lot of quality time on Yokomenuchi Shihonage
- started some more resistance training (good to have a better-balanced training regimen; especially need to build more upper- body strength --- it's also a good idea for me to start work on building up bone mass and muscle at my age to prevent osteoporosis and prepare for the inevitable muscle loss that will come with time)
- time during the trip to read "Book of Five Rings"
 ]]></body>
	<date>08-31-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="240">
	<title><![CDATA[Can't Leave Home Without It]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last Wednesday, we concentrated on a lot of Yokomenuchi Shihonage --- a pain to some of the guys, but not so much to me, perhaps because I am shorter or perhaps because I remember doing so much Shihonage with my first Sensei.

Our trip to Minneapolis has been extended due to my husband's work (we're down here until this Wednesday, though we had intended just to be here for the long weekend).  Which means that we can only come in to train twice a week for two weeks in a row.  I joked to Dave that Sensei will be so displeased about it that I'd may as well draw the ":(" faces next to our names on the attendence roster myself.

Though I didn't bring my dogi with me on the trip so I could visit other dojos (maybe next time!), I did bring along someone's copy of Miyamoto Musashi's "Book of Five Rings" from the dojo and I'm about 3/4 through it as we speak.  So I've at least been keeping my mind active (even if my body hasn't been).

I'm finding that a lot of the strategies Musashi describes are ones that Sensei asks us to apply not only in bokken practice but in Aikido as well.  Happily, I'm also reading a great deal about the martial spirit --- something which I feel strongly about and which I believe holds great importance in combat.  And (this will come as no surprise to anyone) I am reading that for the most part, the skills of combat strategy (such as timing and intuition) can only be gained through practice and experience. ]]></body>
	<date>08-31-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="231">
	<title><![CDATA[Back to Basics]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[No Bokken tonight (*sniffle*), just Tae Sebaki.  Which is fine, as I need all the help I can get ;)  It was mostly opening moves to begin to counter Yokomenuchi this time (which eventually leads into Shihonage, etc.)

Getting back to basics really forces me to take stock of how effective my technique can or can't be.  I suppose in this way I kind of do like working on fundamentals...even though it's frustrating at times, especially being a petite woman having to contstantly adapt my technique in ways that the other guys don't have to worry about.  But I like to think that in the end, the extra challenge will make me even more skilled and quick to adapt to attackers.  I like being kept on my toes like this.  After all, the last thing I want to be is complacent.  

And yes, I made darn sure to have some really good meals before training today. :) ]]></body>
	<date>08-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="226">
	<title><![CDATA[This Week's No Pain, No Gain Tally]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:

- one sprained big toe from Thursday night's "tug of war" rooting exercise

:) Gains:

- a bit of fun taking Sempai Tim's balance a few times during Thursday night's "tug of war" rooting exercise (fun because he's more than twice my size) :)

- some (greatly appreciated) extended time training one-on-one with Sensei during Monday night's Tae Sebaki; not something he does with students often, but when he does, it's a very enlightening experience for the student!

- a greater appreciation of a good meal in relation to training:  I never want to skip meals again --- I need my fuel!

...okay, I'm done --- the sushi's here!  Woohoo! (Wonderful husband)  Have a good weekend, folks!
 ]]></body>
	<date>08-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="225">
	<title><![CDATA[Catharsis]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had such a bad night, I feel the need to redeem myself --- at the very least by considering it in retrospect then using that insight to make sure it never happens again.

I know my mistake:  not eating properly today.  I was in a hurry and had a very meagre breakfast, followed working and running errands entirely through lunch.  The next thing I knew, it was the end of the day, I'd be heading out to Aikido soon and I had very little to eat.  Never again!

Not surprisingly, I was running on empty. It was so bad, our usual ukemi drills wore me down.  So my ukemi sucked even worse than usual.  Which is pretty bad.  

I mentioned my folly to Dave and Sempai Garry, but they say they didn't notice; that I looked like I was doing well.  Hah.  Well, I certainly didn't feel it.  Though I'm sure Sensei noticed.  

Other than feeling like I had a ton of bricks in my stomach, it was a good night.  We did some Kaishi Waza (reversals) from Shomenuchi Ikkyu, and I enjoyed seeing such a nice variety of options.  Another downside of this whole thing is that for the life of me, I can't recall many details at all --- I've been hungry to the point of distraction!
Which is not good.  

Lesson learned.


 ]]></body>
	<date>08-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="215">
	<title><![CDATA[This Week's No Pain, No Gain Tally]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:( Pains:
- large shin bruise
- sore/tight around back of neck, shoulders

:) Gains:
- very good ukemi advice
- Huzza! Finally picked up some Arnica Cream "for sore muscles and injury treatment", so this should hopefully cut down my Pains list. 

I love the name of this cream --- it's called "The Rub", so I'm looking forward to one day seeing it lying around somewhere and proclaiming, "Aye, there's the rub." Teehee! (Apologies for the Hamlet joke, but any opportunity to quote Shakespeare is a good one.) :)

Have a great weekend, everybody! ]]></body>
	<date>08-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="214">
	<title><![CDATA[My Bad Ukemi ;-)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...perhaps isn't all *that* bad, but certainly could get better if I continue to remember the following things (as I've been told).

Ushiro ukemi:
- aim a few feet ahead when doing initial turn out and backwards with rear leg (gives more momentum to roll)
- keep chin tucked in and focus on centre/obi knot (for better roundness)
- arch back more! I seem to be relaxed while rolling (good in itself, but so much so that I apparently have a tendency to crumple in/flatten out a little)
- inner elbow should stay close to inner knee (to help keep knee off mat)
- use hands (knife-edge) more to push up and off mat
- fling outer leg back, keeping it straight and landing with this foot flatly in position for hanmi (instead of on toes as I have a bad habit of doing)

Tobu ukemi:
- bring grasping hand into centre (not side of hip); should help body land straighter (instead of over-rotated, which puts you in a position to bang your knees severely on the mat --- as I have found out the hard way :-P)
- tip over (not straight down but) leaning ahead slightly, as if to project forward
- "mat slapping"-hand should be out and back well before body hits the mat, and should be right next to body (not outwards at an obtuse angle from it ie. 45 degrees, as I am in the habit of doing)

The time Sensei took to go over the basic elements of rolling (and critique us individually) was widely appreciated --- there were a lot of unexplained details that many of us found were never brought to our attention when we were initially taught these rolls, so it was a really good class in this respect.  That we took it relatively easy --- most likely due to the heat --- was also nice too. ;-)
 ]]></body>
	<date>08-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="196">
	<title><![CDATA[Throwing My Weight Around (and then some)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Spent the night practicing Katatedori Koshinage with Sempai Jim, as in the past I have had very little opportunity to do so.  Koshinage is also something that has been a bit of a bane to me, being a slight 105 lbs and generally unaccustomed to having to carry the weight of someone my own size, what's more someone considerably larger than I am --- like Jim, who is apparently the heaviest person in the dojo.  What little I had practiced of it in the past would typically end in disaster:  mostly with uke's weight throwing me completely off balance and us both toppling in a big, ungainly heap.

After tonight's Koshinage Fest, however, things are looking up.  I'm still far from the "easy-as-pie 1-2-3: Koshinage Magic!" that everyone else seems to have, but am happy to report that it may very well be that some of that magical Koshinage mojo is finally rubbing off on me too (possibly through osmosis, but more plausibly because I've been told to pay attention to the following details). :) Now, if only I can remember:

- to enter so that my stance is perpendicular to uke's, deep enough that my inner foot is between uke's feet 
- when "loading" uke, because of my height, I do not need to crouch very low at all to get under him (also, I need to break my habit of bending my inner knee and tilting my hips towards uke in an attempt to get under him; my hips should be straight and my legs both evenly bent to avoid such strain)
- I need to keep my lead (grasped) arm pointing up and extended when "loading" (and throwing) uke, and he should be positioned with his weight resting low, across the back of my hips; I should feel his obi knot in the small of my back 
- to keep my posture relatively straight by looking upwards (to avoid becoming bent over at the waist) and to feel rooted and stable prior to attempting the throw
- when throwing, to tilt hips to the side while standing straight up, and simultaneously grasping uke's hand under my lead arm (for his breakfall) and hooking my lower arm under uke's legs to help facilitate his going over

- oh yeah --- and while I'm at it: pat the top of my head with one hand while rubbing my belly with the other at the same time
- saying "Abracadabra" helps too. ;)
 ]]></body>
	<date>08-07-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="188">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally (for the Week of July 21-25]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Pains:
- Mostly aching in the: shoulders, mid-back, thighs, and inner arms

Gains:
- Added flexibility!  I'm sure the guys in my dojo would love to smack me silly over this, since I'm pretty darn flexible already, but: as of a few weeks ago, I noticed that I can now stretch forward and down towards each leg from a seated position and touch my forehead to my knee --- and hold it there.  Yay!  I haven't been able to do that since I was 10.
- Finding myself remembering more details about the techniques we practice, and being able to write them down (hopefully in a somewhat coherent fashion) while going over what we did in my mind --- very useful!

And last but not least:
- Water has never tasted so good before. :) ]]></body>
	<date>07-26-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="187">
	<title><![CDATA[Notes to Self]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So we're back into the swing of things again(as the aching in my body tells me).  Ah pain, my old friend...how I have missed you. :)

Friday night's techniques included --- new stuff (at least for me)!  Yay!  We did a lot of Ushiro stuff tonight...

Shomenuchi Iriminage (Suwari Waza) - 

Remember to:

- control the head at all times: transition from control by one hand to the other should be continuous
- settle: with arms both outstretched and extended

Ushiro Ryotedori Kokyunage (both static and dynamic):

Static, where both wrists are pinned back together tightly...

- "pin" inside wrist to hip during initial turn towards back leg in order to gain control
- slide forward to take uke's centre prior to attempting to raise arm
- extend lower arm parallel, up to shoulder height, instead of leaving dangling at waist
- make sure high arm and uke's arm are not only above but in front of you as well to ensure that you have taken his balance even prior to attemping the throw (I noticed that this is very similar to shihonage, where the arm is once again ahead of you and you turn swiftly, making sure your hips are back in order to keep it in front of your forehead)

Dynamic...

- immediately bring high hand down to centre once grabbed to maintain control
- before throwing, step forward with rear leg and continue stepping forward in a circular path to both lead uke and regain balance
- during throw, settle down into a kneeling position on the spot instead of leaning or extending forward (can put one off balance if uke is gripping tightly)

Ushiro...um, bear hug? ;)-- both lower (waist level, which goes into a hip throw) and higher (chest level, which goes into Sankyo):

Lower...
- lean back slightly and use quick forward twist of the hips
- if uke is turned such as his head is not in the middle of your back (and is instead to one side of you) twist with hips in the direction which his head is pointing, as that is the side on which he has committed his body weight

Higher...
- since my arms are too short (hahaha) for the knuckles of my fist to effectively reach up and grind at the tendons on the back of uke's upper hand, I have to head-butt him to get him to loosen up a bit for me to procede into Sankyo
- likewise, I can use my free (non-Sankyoing) hand to guide uke's elbow down and outwards for added control, either into a pin or out into a throw

Wow...I can't believe I remembered all this!  ]]></body>
	<date>07-26-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="185">
	<title><![CDATA[My Sensei's Back]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...and there's gonna be trouble. (Hey la! Hey la! My Sensei's back!) --- Everybody sing along!

Actually, there wasn't *that* much trouble. ;) He was merciful, and we had a relaxed class and practiced some lower impact rolls. 

While our sempais worked on their 4th kyu stuff, Dave and I practiced Ryotedori Tenchinage for the very first time.  Up until now, I had only ever watched it be performed by my sempais for their 5th kyu test.  I think having seen it so many times before definitely helped me catch on to it easier (perhaps subconsciously).

Notes to self on Ryotedori Tenchinage - remember to:

re: First movement
-swing lower hand out more to the side than straight forward to "stay at the edge of uke's power"; roll hand outwards at wrist (as always) to facilitate this 
-go deeper on first step out the side in order to account for taller ukes (such as Dave)
re: Second movement
-roll wrist of upper hand out and around slightly as I bring it down over uke
-time stepping in:  wait until uke is more off balance by the upper hand movement first
re: Ending
-settle solidly with arms (instead of that tired flopping thing I was doing with them out of exhaustion :)

Now, if only I can make this a habit! ]]></body>
	<date>07-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="182">
	<title><![CDATA[The Substitute Sensei]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...can really make you appreciate your own sensei's teaching style.  That's all I'll say about that. :)

Last Thursday, while Sensei was out of town, we had a couple of guests:  both an ikkyu from a local dojo who had once trained with us briefly; and a guest sensei --- a shodan from out of town who had trained with us the last time he was in the city --- who we got to lead the class.  

We started with some jo suburi as usual, only we learned a couple of different kinds of tsuki and shomenuchi strikes (since in his home dojo, they hold their jo differently in the starting position --- in some cases with the lower hand palm up) and naturally this made for a rather new and awkward experience.  It was like learning to hold a jo all over again.

The guest sensei had us, for the most part, do both suburi and paired practice on only one side (right hand side) so as "not to make things more difficult" for us, but I felt this was a bit of a loss.  As a beginner, I happen to like the fact that our Sensei has us practice both sides (both the strong right side and the generally weaker left side) of jo strikes, so that we have more opportunity to improve our weaker side --- even if it is a little more difficult initially.  After all, if one ingrains this into their practice early, the less awkward and the less of a bad habit it becomes, right?

We also learned a new kind of ukemi, one you take from being clotheslined --- you fall back on one shoulder and roll up onto the next without letting your tailbone touch the ground.  Difficult to do, but it looks hella cool when it's performed correctly.  Not that I know from personal experience, however. :)

The evening pretty much came to an end when (sigh...my husband) Dave's far-too-long-to-be-considered-hygienic toenails stabbed the guest sensei in the foot.  Not the best way to treat a dojo guest. :( Many a lesson was learned that night by all. ]]></body>
	<date>07-21-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="173">
	<title><![CDATA[A Change of Pace]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Just couldn't leave home without my weapons...

I took my bokken and jo out with me camping last weekend and was able to find the time to at least practice a fair amount of bokken strikes and the 13-step kata while there. 

Practicing in the outdoors was such a liberating experience.  Being able to swing freely, not only while breathing the fresh air but being out in the open instead of in a stuffy dojo where you're constantly having to be fully conscious of whether or not there's enough space (and if I'm going to accidentally hit another person).  I found that (at least for a beginner such as myself) it frees the mind even more to being able to concentrate on the movements themselves.  I'm sure that after a great deal more growth of experience and skill, it will become second nature to be inherently aware of the personal space I take up whenever I swing and move with my weapon but for the time being, I'm finding this kind of practice valuable (especially since my apartment is so darned cramped!)

Rollin', rollin', rollin'...

Sempai John led the class today while Sensei is out of town for the rest of the week, and it's been a refreshing change of pace.  We did something a little different with our ukemi practice:  completely rolling out of some simple throws as opposed to our usual reps of ukemi from a static standing position.  

It was the first time (interestingly enough) that I have ever actually experienced having to do full (instead of half-)ushiro ukemi as uke --- this said, it was useful practice for me.  The feel of a full ushiro ukemi is quite different and is something to be adapted to when it is instigated from an outside force.  It's like you feel you have less control (at least initially) as uke at the beginning of the roll and then you have to struggle to maintain control as you are rolling out to stand up again.  I actually found this rather enjoyable not only because there's more of a challenge involved, but because having to do a full back roll simply felt more continuous, more complete --- like the feeling I was flowing with nage's energy instead of cutting it short and springing up against it like I would in a half roll.  

  ]]></body>
	<date>07-17-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="170">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain Tally for the Week]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Pains:
-sore inner elbows (from being the recipient of some hard blocks during tae sabaki)
-sore inner hips
-minor bruising
-some strangeness going on in my left knee (from an especially hard tobu ukemi)
-straining in my left shoulder

Gains:
-feeling of oneness and flow with bokken
-good tae sabaki back-to-back evasion/randori-like runs
-actually got through what felt like hundreds of reps doing strikes with a jo longer and thicker than I am used to (grrr...feel the burn!)
-better knowledge about the sincerity of certain training partners, and the self-knowledge that I am sick of dojo politics/soap operas --- I just want to train! ]]></body>
	<date>07-11-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="167">
	<title><![CDATA[In Love with the Sword]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...is what I must be. (And no snide comments about how it must be because it's "ooh, so...long, and mmm...hard", fellas! :-P)

Took up the bokken again at Monday night's class; this being after a couple of weeks' absence from Monday nights (mostly due to volunteer commitments and the like).  I had forgotten how much I missed it.

I'm by no means any good at it (beginner that I am), but there's an immensely satisfying feeling I get from the movements, particularly in partnered practice when we do a series of exchanges back and forth culminating in a coup de grace/final "fatal" blow.  There's something wonderfully meditative about it --- how all the strikes and blocks flow into one another, and when I feel myself completely behind and one with my sword, it's truly like it becomes an extension of me.    ]]></body>
	<date>07-09-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="163">
	<title><![CDATA[No Pain, No Gain (apparently)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Here's the tally for the week.

Pains:
-sore shoulders and arms (feels tight if I try to put my hands on my hips)
-left knee feels...strange (no pain) but is better now
-slightly stressed wrists (from Nikyo, surprise surprise)
-achy toes (banged up from tobu ukemi, as usual)

Gains:
-umm...it's a work in progress :) ]]></body>
	<date>07-04-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="162">
	<title><![CDATA[Nikyo Night]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Initially started out with Jo practice (as typical of Thursday evenings), mostly a series of strikes including a few sweeps we don't do often (high, low, and mid-level).  It quickly became apparent that we (as habituated as we are to the right hand high grip of bokken practice) need a heck of a lot more practice striking with the left hand high :)  Which means I really ought to pick up my Jo at home again soon --- I think it is buried somewhere under a pile of books, gathering dust or something else just as useful.

We also did a variety of Nikyo, from shomenuchi, katatetori, etc.  My Nikyo (as per usual) still needs a lot of work...not only do I have a habit of not letting my lead leg swing back to give myself additional room and leverage, but having such small hands makes it difficult (particularly from katatetori) to get a good grip on my partner's wrist --- sempai Jeremy suggested turning my hand palm up just prior to the grab, and that helped considerably.  Add to this that I need to use my centre more, so I have a lot of work ahead of me :)

My one consolation last night was seeing a really hilarious billboard with my Sensei on it on the way back home from class.  At first, I hardly recognized him (his face was so contorted); I just burst out laughing, and made sempai Garry (who was driving at the time) turn the car around so he could see it too.  We figure it has great blackmail potential --- "I suspect classes will be an awful lot easier from now on," Garry chuckled.


 

 ]]></body>
	<date>07-04-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="143">
	<title><![CDATA[Nothing Says "I Love You" Like Randori]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This actually made my night.  It made me forget about my stupid chin burn, for one.  And it made me laugh my head off, too.  So if laughter is the best medicine, then my chin will be healed in no time!

The cause of the medical miracle I speak of is none other than Jim's round of Randori tonight.  Not only did he get in a lot of throws, but the icing on the cake was when he threw Garry and proceeded to drag Garry's body in circles on the mat to avoid his other attacker.  Sweet.  *Wipes away a sentimental tear*...sigh...just inspiring!

I haven't laughed so much on the mats since the time Garry farted while being thrown by Kokyudosa.



 ]]></body>
	<date>06-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="142">
	<title><![CDATA[IriminageFest = Chin Burn]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yes folks, you CAN have too much of a good thing.

Last night, after a couple of guys did another practice run-through of their upcoming Gokkyu tests, we did some Morotetori Iriminage.  And Morotetori Iriminage.  For the rest of the class.
Sensei figured that after last week's ShihonageFest it was time to move onto something else.  Which is fine.  Well, to an extent.

The underside of my chin was absolutely raw by the end of the night from the rough sleeves of my partners' dogis.  Thankfully, it was just around the time that I figured I bloody well had enough of Iriminage, that Sensei ended class early.  I guess in our dojo, when you start to smell blood, it's time to call it a night.

So now I'm starting to scab under my chin, which is great to show off to folks when you want to make them cringe (granted not as much of a shock to them as the gargantuan Yonkyo bruises I tend to get).  But it's all good, because now it's healing, right?

Wrong!  Tonight, we're running over another couple of guys' Gokkyu tests, and Sensei calls me up to be Uke for...Morotetori Iriminage!

Then when we started working on some techniques, what is it that we end up doing?  Ryotetori Kokyuho.  My poor chin... ]]></body>
	<date>06-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>


</blogEntries>