Back to the Kids’ Class

3/26/13

Last week was recovery week.  My jaw needed time to feel normal again and my chest needed to get back to its normal color.  It’s so strange that I couldn’t really feel any of those blows when they happened, but afterward, they told the story that I couldn’t recall.  Adrenaline is weird and cool like that.

I have been taking it a bit easy and have had to prepare for an upcoming exam for 9^th kyu.  Not too much preparation, just learning a kata, Pinan Sono Ichi, or Kyokushin’s interpretation of Pinan 1.  Many styles of karate use this kata, but each style presents a slight difference within its version of it.  Sometimes the difference is not so slight.  That being said, I thought it would be a great idea to get a light workout with the kids to avoid any injury and just take it easy.

Well, I got a lot more than what I expected on Saturday morning with those little warriors.  First of all, kids have limitless energy.  I have no idea where they get it, but I really do wish I had it.  So, even when they turn red and get tired…they’re never really tired.  I think Shihan knows this, so he pushes the cardio hard.  Next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a 10 set sparring drill.  What?  10 sets?  Really?  Aaagh, come on…  I have to be honest.  I struggled pretty hard and started gasping for breath a little bit towards the end. 

My primary sparring partner was a 5^th grade boy, who was really quick and flexible and perfect for reinforcing my learning experience from the last tournament.  The opponent I lost to was similar in structure and speed.  Nice kid, but fierce.  He forced me to move around and focus on my footwork.  Shihan kept telling me, “It’s OK to hit him hard,” but I had trouble bringing myself to do it.  In the final rounds, I was able to put compassion aside and get some force into my strikes.

Then there was this little girl wearing an orange belt like me.  She seemed really excited to be sparring.  She reminded me of me.  I felt a great responsibility to motivate her and share in her enthusiasm.  In fact, she sort of inspired me, little energy bunny that she was.  It’s good to look at things as if I were seeing them for the first time.  I think training with the little ones is really good for that. 

The third kid was this really shy boy wearing a blue belt. He seemed like he really didn’t want to be there.  So I tried to motivate him by smiling at him a lot and giving nods of encouragement.  It kind of worked.  But I found the thing that motivated him the most was when I landed a solid punch or kick on him.  Despite his shyness, he dislikes that feeling just as much as the rest of us do.  He started to fight back after that.  Cool.  After a few rounds, he was pounding me out of bounds with his assertive punches.  Nice.  I’d like to think that maybe I helped him feel a little more comfortable and capable.  He seemed like such a nice little guy with a fighting spirit on the verge of being born. 

All in all, I walked away from the dojo that afternoon with a great big smile on my face.  Those kids were just awesome to work with and they taught me a lot.  I think I will come back often.  After all, one can never have enough speed, stamina, or control.  Osu!

Yours,

Kalia

The 2013 Okinawa-ken Kyokushin Open Tournament

3/18/13

Good afternoon from the land of the rising sun!  As some of you may know, I fought my first full-contact tournament yesterday.  It was the Kyokushin Okinawa Open tournament.  I have spent a bit of time preparing for this.  How can I describe this experience?  I am unsure of how to begin.  Maybe from the first match…

My first match was against a heavier, but shorter opponent.  She was very nice and we chatted it up a bit before our match.  It’s kinda weird talking to a person you are about to fight, but also settles the nerves.  This is one of the things I really love about practicing karate in this environment.  No one really has an ego.  We know we are all equals.  We don’t talk about what we are going to do or what we can do.  We. Just. Do. It. 

Anyway, back to the match.  I felt pretty confident when entering the ring, even a little excited.  I like fighting.  My opponent waited for me to attack, which I didn’t really expect.  To be honest, a lot of it was a blur.  But I do remember getting in some good middle roundhouse kicks and landing a jodan mawashi geri to the side of her head.  My corner man, Ogido-senpai, helped me stay on track when she bulldozed me with punches.  He screamed, “No go back!”  I really needed that.  I couldn’t really feel any punches, but I noticed that at some points she was pushing me back with them.  So I tried my best to answer back with some of my own.  I really wanted to land another kick to the head, but she seemed to track down my rhythm and wasn’t going to let it happen.  When it was all settled, I got a 4 out of 5 judges’ decision in my favor.  Phew.  Relief.  It’s nice to win.      

The second match, I was a little nervous about.  I was going to fight the woman who won this tournament last year, and I knew she had speed, and maybe stamina on her side.  Only weighing about 45 kilograms  (100 lbs.), I had the power, but she was a much smaller target than my previous opponent.  The match began and I looked straight to her eyes.  Fearless and totally focused.  She used a lot of side to side movement when I advanced, so I tried to go in at an angle.  She was master of the angle, so she would get in, attack, and like a smart fighter, get the heck out.  I tried to catch her with a high roundhouse on her way out, but she was too quick, and kept the distance in her favor.  I do remember a good leg kick I delivered that seemed to bend her knee forward, but it may as well have been imagined.  She used her jodan mae geri and caught me in the face.  “There it is,” I thought.  Exactly what I didn’t want to happen.  I was OK, but I knew the judges really loved seeing that.  I started to feel my body get tired, so I knew I just had to give it power.  I did what I could, but an accidental punch to the jaw left me worried in the middle of the match.  It was quick, so I’m not surprised that the officials didn’t catch it.  About 30 seconds later, my jaw started to feel…not quite right.  I kiai-ed with the last of my will power, but it wasn’t enough to gain the advantage.  She won by a unanimous decision.  I nodded with a slight smile and congratulated her.  I had learned a lot in three minutes. 

Third match for third place.  This woman was my senior and throughout her study of Kyokushin she had attained the rank of shodan (black belt) in record time with determination, hard work, and commitment.  I was still a bit worried about my jaw from the second match, but I had to get my mind back together.  Before stepping onto the mat, I told myself that even though I felt fear, and a part of me didn’t want to fight any more for the rest of the day, that this was the moment that mattered.  It really is about this kind of moment.  When I get scared and knocked around, I am reluctant to get back in there.  But I have to walk through this if I want to move forward.  This is what it means to overcome limitations and fear.  Right here, right now.  This moment is when, if I submit and take the easy way out, I get nowhere.  I didn’t come to Japan to get nowhere.  So for this match…I let my inner demon out.

I remember the first minute of the match.  There was this part where we were both tired and I executed kind of a half-assed attack.  I didn’t like that one bit, and I felt this collective pressure from the crowd that said, “No, absolutely unacceptable.”  Or was that some inner voice?  Eh, who knows?  I immediately tried to kick the level back up with more speed and power.  

“It doesn’t matter what the body feels, Kalia…just do it…”   I got two good low kicks on her left leg…so I tried again.  Nope.  She figured it out and changed her stance.  Other leg?  Nope, she picked it up and gave me a front kick every time.  Managed to redirect the front kick and follow up with a counter punch or kick.  Yes, good.  “tired…no..no..no, I’m not.”

I heard Ogido-senpai say it, “San-jyu byo-mai!”  (Thirty seconds left)  And that’s when it happened.  I remembered the thick air in that dingy dojo in Naha, I remembered Shihan’s voice “Eih—gogogogogogo!”

I let it happen, I let my eyes get wide, I let my face get ugly, I didn’t care about staying composed any more…”All you have to do, Kalia, is NOT STOP.”

So I let out noises that I knew were disturbing to hear for some people who thought I was a lady.  I threw every attack I could think of, knee, under punch, low kick, knee, knee, underpunch ”you hit the ribs, hit ‘em again!”  It seemed never ending, but I was beginning to be OK with that…

“YAME!!....Fix your dogi…”

”Osu!”  So I re-tied my belt and tucked the red flag in as fast as I could.  “An extension…maybe?”

“…AKA!”  I won the match…I won the match?  Cool.

I soon after congratulated my opponent and thanked her for such a hard fight.  It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.  We didn’t hate each other.  I didn’t feel good about beating another person.  I felt good about what I was able to bring out in myself and I was immensely grateful for having an opponent that helped me do that.  It was the purest form of kumite, the “ultimate truth.”  We aren’t really fighting anyone but ourselves on that mat.  This a beautiful thing and it is one of the reasons why I knew I had to come to this country.  Stuff like this DOES happen in the U.S., I know.  But how rare is it to get this many people together who share the same understanding and philosophy…that we are willing to forget about self-glorification and act with respect and tact, while beating the absolute crap out of each other??  Right?

The closing ceremony commenced and I felt really honored to stand next to the first and second place winners.  I have so much to learn from these women, and I know that my work has only just begun.  I hope they know that when I say “Arigatou gozaimashita.” (thank you very much) that I really mean it.  One day soon I hope to be able to express my gratitude to these truly amazing men and women, and to those who have supported and continue to offer their guidance and strength through this journey.  It’s OUR journey, you know.  Thanks very much for reading.

Yours,

Kalia

Hell Yeah

3/12/13

This week seemed to have a theme, sort of.  A lot of times when I train I feel like I am running out of time.  Maybe it’s that nasty cramming habit I picked up in college.  But, there’s this sense of urgency that I’ve often experienced.  I think, “OK, this week I have to train every day and I have to train hard every single one of those days.”

The reality is that I don’t do well that way.  The body is not limitless.  It needs rest and good food, vitamins, etc.  The mind is connected, too.  It needs to feel right.  It needs to be clear.  I have to feed it good things, too.

I have this tournament coming up this Sunday, March 17^th, in just a few more days.  It is my first full-contact tournament.  Wow, crazy stuff.  Never in a million years did I think I would ever be doing something like this.  I spent a lot of time back in Texas fantasizing about it, but I never thought anything like this would actually happen, or that I would actually allay my fears enough to follow through.  But, yeah.  It’s happening.

Training for this tournament has brought some things to light.  I have learned that consistency over the long term is a very valuable thing.  I cannot expect to become a champion overnight, or even in the 8 months that I have been here. It takes time.  There is so much to learn, so much to practice.  It’s best to take each technique in at an appropriate pace.  I have learned that I am not 19 anymore, but I am not yet 70.  There are actually some perks to being in a matured body.  I’ve been driving this vehicle for some years now. 

“We will pursue the true meaning of the martial way so that in time our senses may be alert.”  (#2 of the Kyokushin Dojo Kun)

This week I noticed the words, “in time.”  Yes, all in good time.  So, I have to pay attention now.  What does my body say?  Some days it says that it needs sleep, so that’s what I do for it.  Some days it wants to train hard, and so we go.  But, we are reaching a better agreement every day, my body and I.  If I give it what it needs, it breaks down limitations when I beg it to keep going after it says, “I can’t.”  We’re seeing eye to eye a little more each day. 

I don’t really think about this tournament as the end of anything or even as any kind of finished product.  It is, to me, another process within a much larger process.  This sense of continuity is new to me.  Back in the U.S. I felt like a lot of these Americanized karate styles only focused on winning plastic trophies.  But there is so much more to karate than winning.  There’s being brave enough to find that limitation within, accepting it, and then making it disappear.

Yours,
Kalia

OK, I'm Gonna Complain

3/1/13

There are nights, especially after training at the dojo, I'll look at all the bright lights on Kokusai street and take in all of the kanji and hiragana street signs.  It helps me realize that I am actually in Japan.  Sometimes I forget.  Maybe I'm getting used to it by now.  I feel like if I don't really bring my presence into the moment, this will all have been a dream someday.  I'm not ready to wake up yet. 

Tonight I'm tired.  Training was tough, but I discovered that I could do more than I thought.

There's this weird thing about Kyokushin fighters.  The guys in my dojo say, “Don't show if you are in pain or are frustrated or tired.  Even if you get a nasty leg kick, just keep pushing forward.  Don't make a face.”

OK, so this is very unnatural for me.  I am a pretty expressive person and it's hard for me to just hold that kind of stuff in.  But, there was this one moment a few nights ago, when I got nailed in the shin by someone's knee.  Dammit, it HURT!  I was pretty close to just crouching over and yelping, but I thought, “You know, why don't you give this 'pretend like you're not in pain' thing a try.”  So I did.  Instead of verbalizing, I just let out a nice long scream in my head.  No one else could hear it but me.  It rang through my whole body as I witnessed its harshness and rising pitch, crescendo and diminuendo.  However, it was only to exist in my little imaginary internal world.  Ah, a nice silent scream.  Egh.  OK, back to sparring.  Phew. 

So I have learned that it is possible to somewhat follow the words of Sosai Oyama, who once said, “Don't show pain, even with a broken bone.  If you show pain, the enemy will see it...”  However, I have never had a broken bone (knocking on wood).  I'm not too sure about my ability to hold that kind of pain in and I don't really ever want to find out.

3/2/3

Saturday morning, 11:11 a.m.  Coincidence?  Hmm.  I’m nervous as I am every Saturday morning.  I just finished taking my vitamins and downing a bowl of All-Bran cereal with milk, a banana, and honey.  Getting ready to make some eggs, potatoes,  and veggies.  Gotta eat some starch before training today at 3 p.m.  Too much food maybe?  Well, trial and error.  The tournament is in 2 weeks and this week is going to be hell.  It is the most crucial time for investing.  Anyway, that’s how I am thinking of it.  I’m going to suffer because I want to do well and give it all I’ve got.  Looks strange when I write that…

After Training: 

So, I was right.  I had to take a little bathroom break after a sparring session because I felt like, well going to the bathroom.  You could say that I got the crap beat outta me…hehe…kinda funny.  But, there was something valuable that happened in those last thirty seconds.  I decided that I didn’t care if I got hit anymore.  I was going to hit with all my intentions combined and I was going to hit through my target.  My brain was still processing the blows I was receiving, but that information faded into the background.  On the main platform was the intention and energy that I was gathering to deliver my attacks.  I became deliberate, almost unconscious of anything except the target.  Now, if I can only learn to activate that a little sooner.  It’s complicated, though.  Hits DO matter.  At this point I’m thinking it’s a fine balance of offense and defense.  I can, however, draw the conclusion that sometimes you have to go a little bit psycho to get the job done. 

Thanks for reading…more next week. 

Yours,

Kalia

This is Why I am Here...

I came to Okinawa in August 2012, last year.  What brought me here?  Well, there were a number of things but there is one that really put its hook in me.  I really came here because it is the birthplace of karate.  I knew that if I could land a job in Okinawa, that it would mean at least 5 years of immersion in a fighting art that has grabbed me from the start.  I didn’t start practicing as an 8 year old like many others.  I started my karate practice when I was 28.  I am now 31 and will be 32 in September of this year, 2013.  Inexperienced?  Yes, and it’s good for me to remember that.  But one thing I am not is a dim light.  If there is something I want to know, I find out.  I look for it until I have an answer.  Since coming to Okinawa, I have found many answers, but I know my search will never be over.

Before I arrived, I made sure to do my research and find out what karate dojos I could scope out and possibly join.  Since I had been training in Enshin Karate back in Texas, I wanted to find something that connected.  I loved my Enshin Dojo.  Fortunately, there were many Kyokushin Dojos on the island of Okinawa.  The founder of Enshin, Kancho Joko Ninomiya, had his roots in Kyokushin Karate.  There are branches of Enshin in Japan, but none in Okinawa.  I was completely content with this, as the sensei I found in Naha (which is where I was placed) was a student of Masutatsu Oyama.  Not bad.  Shichinohe-shihan is a great teacher and a great fighter. 

You may ask, “Why didn’t you join one of the Okinawan Karate Dojos, like Goju-ryu, or Uechi-ryu?” 

Well, the reason is pretty simple.  I like Kyokushin because there is an emphasis on sparring and it is a great test for stamina (and pain tolerance, hehe).  Right now, Kyokushin is what I do, but that doesn’t mean I deprive myself of the opportunity to watch and study many of the Okinawan styles that are so readily available in this magnificent place.  I intend to dive further into these styles after the Okinawa Prefectural Kyokushin Tournament on March 17^th.  The truth is, there is so much knowledge and culture here, you need to be 5 people.

So what is it like to train in a Japanese Dojo?  Wow, if I could only teleport you to a class.  Of course, different dojos are run differently.  I can tell you what it’s like to train under Shichinohe-shihan.  The biggest difference that comes to mind right now is the level of focus.  Now, just as a disclaimer, I have not trained in every single American dojo.  I have had some experience training in Texas “Soryu” dojo (the quotations are a whole other blog), and an Enshin dojo in the U.S.  The Enshin dojo is very similar to the Kyokushin Dojo.  Everyone here is FOCUSED.  They understand that it is the minimum expectation to give their full attention to what is happening in the dojo right then and there.  The questions are minimal and no one really laughs and jokes during class time.  We don’t talk about our problems too much and we don’t talk about how great we are or how great our teachers are.  There is virtually zero trash talking ANYWHERE.  Even the older senseis don’t reminisce about the past and brag about what they’ve accomplished.  They take the dojo kun very seriously. 

There are classes for adults and children during the week, which last a minimum of 1.5 hours, most of the time 2 hours.  On Saturdays, there is a fighter’s class.  This is when we go hard.  It is a class designed for fighters who are preparing for tournaments or who want to push their skill and stamina.  I am afraid of this class.  I get nervous the night before and am pretty edgy on Saturday morning…because I know what’s coming.  No mercy.  In this class, I have found much of what I didn’t think I had.  In this class, I have realized the importance of the mind and how to handle fear.  It had been a long time since I had felt fear like I did the first few times in that class.  I even wanted to quit, I was getting my butt handed to me so much.  But, I knew I hadn’t travelled to the other side of the world just to give up.  So I haven’t.  And I won’t. 

This blog is a way for me to communicate my experiences with you.  I am finally at the point where I have settled into my new environment and am ready to share.  I feel that there are many people back in the United States who are searching for more than what they are getting in their dojo, and they may not know where to look.  Okinawa is a good place, but don’t just believe what I say.  You decide for yourself.  Find the answers and don’t believe everything you are told.  There are too many people out there who want to fool you into thinking that one style (most likely theirs) is superior to all of the others.  This is bull.  Martial Arts is suffering in America.  It’s suffering because too many things have been left out or deemed “unimportant” by some American practitioners.  What many fail to realize is that they have cut the younger generation off from the endless spring of knowledge they were lucky enough to access at one point.  It is in my greatest interest to bring a piece of that knowledge to you, regardless of the things your sensei might say like, “Tradition isn’t worth a crap in real life.”  You have a right to decide that for yourself.  Keep an open mind and never stop persisting for the truth.