My First Seminar

On Saturday, June 11th, I attended my first martial arts seminar. The key word there is "my." I've attended lots of seminars, especially when I've trained at Aikido of Central New York, both now and in the past. I love seminars - so much knowledge and training packed into a few hours. But Saturday was the first seminar that I was personally responsible for. I proposed it to my Senseis at Five Star Martial Arts. And to their credit, they gave me the go-ahead, even though they really didn't know much about Aikido. I then made the arrangements with Yousuf Mehter Sensei at Aikido of CNY, who was extremely gracious to such a young dojo that had never done anything like a guest seminar before. I scheduled everything, created all of the marketing materials, and promoted the seminar for the better part of a month. At the seminar, I greeted all of the attendees, checked everyone in at the front desk, and showed our guests around the dojo. My Senseis even kindly allowed me to make the opening introductory remarks and kick off the day's training. This was my baby - something I'd never done before.

I confess, I was a bit nervous leading up to this. I take a lot of pride in doing a good job, in being successful, and in serving with quality and distinction whenever I take on a task. I wanted this to be a big success, for many reasons. Of course, my own personal credibility was on the line. It would have been very embarrassing to me and to my dojo if nobody showed up for this seminar. As it was, we had to shift the children's class into the main adult seminar because only a handful of kids signed up (and most of them were mine). But more than that, this was the very first guest seminar at my home dojo, and its success or failure could easily have an impact on the future of seminars at our school.

I believe martial arts seminars are important. Learning from different instructors who are recognized as experts in their style is truly valuable. More, I think that exposure to different styles is useful to the martial artist who wants to be well-rounded and to understand all ways that different styles approach movement, strikes, blocks, stances, grappling, and all of the other aspects of hand-to-hand combat, fitness, training methodology, and martial arts theory. I also like the way seminars can bring people together from different dojos to meet, train with each other, and form part of a larger martial arts community.

As such, I sincerely want seminars to be available as a regular, ongoing part of the training for Five Star's Karate students. And the only way that's likely to happen is if they're successful, well-attended, and well-regarded by the students, the Senseis, and the other martial artists in the area. So when I say that Saturday's seminar could easily have had a long-term impact - positive or negative - on the future of seminars at Five Star, it's not difficult to believe.

Fortunately, it was a huge hit. We had about 20 total participants, including some senior students from Aikido of CNY who were extremely helpful to the Aikido novices at Five Star.  Sensei Mehter spent two solid hours teaching us a series of techniques that all built on the basics of the style - notably Ikkyo, Nikyo, and Sankyo. He was a terrific instructor as always, and really great with the six kids and pre-teens who attended. In between techniques, he would call the children up to the front to show what they'd learned, which they all seemed to really enjoy. And so did everyone else. The look of wonder on everyone's face was incredibly gratifying. The awe and amazement they expressed at what we were learning sent my spirit soaring. THIS is exactly how a seminar is supposed to be - enthusiastic martial artists being blown out of the dogis by the fantastic new knowledge they're learning that's different from anything they've trained in before.

I got to make the rounds a lot, working with everyone and lending the benefits of my limited experience to those with even less than I have. I got to experience their joy up close. Now looking back on it a couple of days later, I'm filled with gratitude to everyone who helped bring the seminar together and make it a success - to Mehter Sensei, to Senseis Pastore and Napoli, to the attendees from Aikido of CNY and the Oswego Aikido Club, and to the student participants from Five Star Martial Arts. The bar has been set and set high - our next seminar will have to be outstanding to compare with this one, but at least everybody will know that a Five Star Seminar means the best in quality martial arts instruction. People will talk, word will get out, and the next time Mehter Sensei comes and teaches for us (if he graciously agrees to return in a year or so, perhaps), I fully expect to have twice as many people on the floor, eager to see why everyone raved about this seminar so much. I know I'll be there!

[Karate] Yoga and the Severely Inflexible

My body doesn't particularly like to stretch or twist. I suspect part of this may just be how I'm built - I've never been very flexible, even when I was much younger. I know I have a deformity in my wrist bones (specifically the ulna bone in my left forearm, and probably my right) that caused me to need surgery about 20 years ago. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that the source of my hip pain and general leg inflexibility is of a similar nature. My mother pointed out to me after my last post that when I was very young, I'd needed corrective shoes to address a misalignment in my hips that was affecting my walk (making me pigeon-toed). So now I'm left to wonder - is my hip pain and my inability to gain significant flexibility in my upper legs caused by that same defect? Or did the process of correcting my walk cause my hips to twist into a position that ultimately causes me other problems? I may have to talk to my doctor about it at some point soon. My hip pain isn't constant, but it's bad enough that, for instance, I have to play my electric guitar standing up, because having it rest on my leg hurts now.

Meanwhile, I'm addressing my flexibility issues as directly as I know how - through Yoga. Suami Michael Smith recently started offering Yoga classes at Five Star Martial Arts and I've attended them all. Mike's approach is pretty cool. He's very comfortable with beginners, taking time with each new student to show them the details of the poses and techniques, and then continuing to offer tips and encouragement as we progress. He also teaches a class that's a great blend of stretching, breathing, and strength-building. For instance, he taught us a plank modification the other day that involved a push-up, and we did an ab-building exercise that left me sore for days. Finally, I like the way Suami Michael blends hints of karate into his Yoga. From stances to movement, his background in the martial arts makes the class very relevant to me.

It wouldn't be accurate to say that I've seen no improvement in my flexibility in the year that I've been studying the martial arts. It's just that it's not enough, and in particular my kicks suffer quite a bit because I can't get them up where they need to be. I'm not significantly closer to doing a split than I was a year ago, which means my side kicks, hook kicks, and roundhouse kicks just don't get up where I want them. But in just a handful of Yoga classes, I've seem some flexibility improvement already. I figured if anything could help, it would be Yoga.

So I'm now addressing my breathing through Aikido and Yoga classes. I'm working on my balance through Iaido and Yoga. And I'm working on my flexibility through Karate and Yoga. Hey, I see a common thread there! I admit, I went into Yoga as a fairly blank slate and as open a mind as I could manage, but I wasn't necessarily sure I was going to stick with it. Now, I'm sold. I'm in for the long haul, I think. And I look forward to using good balance and proper breathing... as I kick people in the head!!!

[Karate] Overdoing It

Sometimes, we definitely can push too hard. That's all too easy to do when you're training often, as I am. Beyond that, on Thursday and Friday, I trained in Aikido, Iaido, Yoga, and Kenpo. I'm in much better shape than a year ago, but that's still pretty intense. Thursday's Aikido class was particularly punishing. I had my elbow wrenched to the side - the same elbow that someone had landed on at the seminar I attended two months ago. The pain's pretty well gone now, in fact after a good Aikido workout it felt better than it had since I'd first hurt it, though afterward it ached for a couple of days. For whatever reason, I chose that same session to try my first hardfall in about 18 years. Successfully, as it turns out, but it put a kink into my lower flank that followed me into the weekend.

It's also not uncommon for workouts to make my hip(s) hurt. I'm not sure if it's the butterfly stretch or the split (well, what I do doesn't much resemble a split, truth be told) or throwing sidekicks, but it puts a nice searing hot thorn into my hip joint for me. It's far from constant and usually little more than an annoyance, but naturally it raised its ugly, um, head after two rough days of falling (on purpose), stretching, twisting, and kicking.

The result was a couple days of soreness and aches - not the kind of muscle aches you expect from a good workout. Not even the hobble-inducing soreness I used to get in my quadriceps when I'd spend too much time in seiza. Thankfully, that seems to be largely a thing of the past. No, this was joint pain - joints and bones and tendons all scolding me for overdoing it. It's over now, and it should become less prevalent with time as I continue to train, but it's certainly a cautionary tale - it's possible to do too much, push too hard, and your body will let you know when that's happened.

[Karate] Aikido Seminar #2

Technically, I don't know what number Aikido seminar this was for me - I'm positive I went to at least four of them back in the early 1990s because I can remember training with Sugano Sensei (Sugano Shihan at the time of his very sad passing last year) twice, Yamada Shihan at least once, and a big guy with a mustache whose name I've forgotten. I suspect there were as many as two other seminars I attended and have simply forgotten, but those four I remember for sure.

To digress further, I think I've mentioned before that I'm baffled when I try to remember how long I spent training in Aikido. It seems like it was around a year, which would be consistent with having attended that number of seminars. Yet I only tested a single time - for 5th Kyu - and that test is usually administered after about 60 days of training, which would be around 6-7 months. Even assuming I was a terrible student (which would hurt my pride deeply, but wouldn't actually surprise me), I should have been ready to test around then, since I often went to class quite a bit more often than twice per week. So how freaking long DID I train for?? I just don't recall.

Well, it doesn't really matter. What does matter is that I was able to attend Collins Smith Sensei's seminar last November, and then on Saturday I attended Irvin Faust Sensei's seminar as well. And if that weren't enough, I've also taken two actual Aikido classes in the last few weeks as well.

Saturday's seminar was really unique. Well, it was for me, anyway.  I don't know - maybe Faust Sensei teaches like this all the time. You see, in Aikido you typically take turns with your partner, each of you performing a technique four times as the Nage, then receiving those same four techniques as the Uke. The Uke's job is to be a reasonably compliant partner, providing just enough resistance for the technique to be properly executed. The Nage's job is to do the technique without injuring the Uke or throwing them where another Uke is about to fall. Only one technique is generally performed at a time.

Faust Sensei mixed this up, though. For the first hour, we performed variations on a series of techniques. The Nage would begin with Nikyo, then move on to Sankyo, followed by Kotegaeshi, and ending with Shihonage. Actually, it didn't always end with Shihonage - after a while we added an Iriminage throw as the final technique. So that's four - or five! - techniques all done together, one after the next, alternating hands. The Uke's job was just to reach toward the Nage as fast as they could after each technique so the Nage could perform the next one in the series.

It was actually a really great way to practice these fundamental Aikido techniques, it was just unlike anything I'd ever seen done before outside of Rondori (where multiple attackers act as Uke to a single Nage, taking turns attacking with whatever attack they desire while the Nage adapts and selects a suitable response).

Faust Sensei was throwing all kinds of stuff at us that I'd never seen or just didn't remember. I admit, I was confused and frustrated - not so much at my inability to execute the techniques (I give myself a pass since I'm way beyond rusty), but at my sheer bafflement when I tried to comprehend them. I would watch him do the technique and come away utterly confused. Sometimes I'd even practice it for a while and still be utterly confused. It was a very humbling experience, and I'm not a big fan of being humbled and frustrated. When that happens, my gut instinct is to give up. I felt those rumblings stirring within me on Saturday. "This is too hard. I don't get it. I should go sit and watch instead of bumbling around here looking - and feeling - like a fool." It was REALLY tempting to just give up. I'm awesome at giving up. I wonder sometimes if I'm part French (Je plaisante!). I didn't, though. I stuck it out. I stayed with it. After a while, Faust Sensei changed the format and then things did get somewhat easier.

You see, for at least the fourth and final hour, he had us in lines, with a single Nage and everyone else taking turns as Uke. It was a constant barrage of attacks - each Nage got to perform the technique around ten times in rapid succession. I still frequently found that after those ten times, I was no closer to mastering the technique or even being sure I was doing it kind of correctly. Being the guy up there facing that whole line of Aikidoka was fairly intimidating, but it was actually better than being one-on-one. Plus you got to rest while standing in line, which was really welcome after several hours of near-continuous Aikido.

That was another big plus for me - in the past, I've left seminars and even classes feeling completely drained and ready to collapse. Then I've gone home, stiffened up, and literally spent the next four or five days barely able to walk, hobbling around grunting and occasionally crying out in pain. I remember when Collins Smith Sensei's seminar was done, I collapsed flat-out on the mat and just lay there for a while. Several people even came over to see if I was okay.

This seminar, however, I completely lost track of time. I literally misplaced an entire hour, so that when the seminar was finished and we were lined up, kneeling in seiza for Faust Sensei to say goodbye, I was sure we still had another whole session still to go. And I was looking forward to it! I was ready for more, and a bit disappointed to find that there wasn't any. I remember that feeling. It's the feeling I USED to get back in the old days, when I was a young, fit, enthusiastic college kid instead of an old, flabby, worn out man. It's the feeling I'd get when I'd attend a seminar with Sugano or Yamada Shihan back in 1991 at the OLD Erie Boulevard dojo. Maybe I was channeling my Ki or just catching a second wind, but it felt damn good. I'm looking forward to more.

[Karate] Ipponme Mae

First off, before anybody freaks out, I'm continuing to categorize my Iaido studies under "Karate" for no particular reason other than that I've been classifying all of my martial arts articles under that category. I suppose I could have used a broader category like [Martial Arts], but at the time I started writing about the subject I was really only focused on Kenpo and Goju-Ryu styles, so [Karate] seemed appropriate. I have, however, recently added labels to my blog, so if you're looking for particular subject matter, you can drill down by selecting the link for "Iaido" or "Aikido," or you can see all of my martial arts related articles by clicking "karate." So that's all it is - just a category for the convenience of people trying to sort through my articles (which cover a wide array of topics. Probably too many for most people). It doesn't reflect my opinion or definition of what constitutes "karate" or any other style of martial arts.

Regular readers will recall that I traveled to Ottawa last month for a seminar in Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū conducted by Sensei Robert Davis. The wonderful thing about seminars, for me, has always been the exposure to new information, things I'd never seen or done before, or just differences in how the knowledge is taught. Sometimes, as with Iaido, the skills are all new. Other times, as with some of the Aikido seminars I attended years ago, it was a chance to practice familiar techniques with different people, or to gain insights into them simply because they were being taught by somebody different.

The one thing I hate about seminars is that afterward I feel the new knowledge I've learned - skills that seemed natural and obvious to me at the time - quickly leaking out of my mind and fading away. Aaaargh, I hate that so much. I want that knowledge. I want to keep it. I want to use it to refine and perfect my technique. I want to have it to use. Losing it really aggravates me.

For that reason, I've begun to think that it might have been for the best that this first Iaido seminar was only three hours long. We learned a lot in that short time, but not so much as to be completely overwhelming. I wish I could tell you the techniques we learned, but my auditory memory is terrible and without seeing them written down, the names flitted away, lost to me. I remember the techniques, though. Or at least I think I do.

We started with some basic stances, the drawing of the sword, the resheathing of the sword, and chiburi, which is the shaking off of blood from the blade. Then we learned two standing waza. In the first, we'd take three steps forward, stopping with the left foot in a half-step before taking a full step forward with the right foot as you draw and make the initial cut with the blade. In the second, the left foot continues on through, and the initial strike is made with the left foot forward. Both follow the first (horizontal) strike with an overhead strike (we used to call the barehanded overhead chop a "shomenuchi" in Aikido. I'm betting it has a different name when performed with a sword, but I don't know what the proper term is, so we'll just stick to English), then a chuburi, and a resheathing of the sword.

I'm not certain I'm doing these techniques 100% perfectly. Well, let me rephrase that - I'm positive that I'm NOT doing them 100% perfectly. Probably more like 10% if I'm lucky, at least in terms of the details that are so important to proper Iaido. What I mean is that I may be making gross mistakes. For instance, I know that in some of the waza we practiced, we dropped a knee as we resheathed the sword. I'm positive we did that in the techniques that started in seiza (kneeling) posture. But I cannot remember whether we also did it when the technique was entirely standing. So for now I'm only bending the knee on seiza-based techniques like Ipponme Mae.

Which brings me to the other set of waza we learned - four different techniques all performed from the seiza position. Each of the four is performed facing a different direction to begin with, but you always end up attacking a target who is to the front. Which is to say, in those positions where you're facing left, right, or to the rear, you must turn yourself because the enemy is always in the same place.

Now I'm not sure if ALL of these variations count as ipponme mae, but I think they might. Regardless, the front-facing waza performed from seiza is definitely ipponme mae. I like ipponme mae quite a bit, and I read somewhere that "all of Iaido is contained in Ipponme Mae." I don't know whether that's true, but it surely seems like a great place to start. I've also read that many Iaido students learn and perform nothing but Ipponme Mae for months when they first begin to learn the art.

I've taken down the cheap piece of crap decorative samurai sword from the rack over my writing computer. It's a poor-quality replica of a real sword, and I noticed after using it for a bit that the whole thing has a bit of a rightward curve from the handle to the tip of the blade. But it's roughly the weight and feel of a proper Iaito blade, and it has a saya (sheath), so I've put it to work. At least three or four times a week, I take that sword to the dojo and I practice what little I know of Iaido. It's my sincere hope that I'm not setting too many bad habits in stone that will need to be chipped away later on, but I'm determined to keep as much of that knowledge as I possibly can. When it's time to learn more Iaido, I hope to be ready to correct some of my errors and absorb more of this precious and all-too-rare knowledge.

2010 Year in Review

Yeah, I know, it's mid-February. This is one of those articles I started working on and then got distracted, but 2010 was ultimately a pretty decent year, and one that I still felt deserved to be summarized.

The year 2010 wasn't just a sort of crummy follow-up to the classic 2001: A Space Odyssey. Oh no, it was an actual collection of months (twelve of them by my count) in which various and sundry stuff happened. Some of that stuff happened to me. That's mostly what I care about, so I won't belabor the natural disasters, celebrity goings-on, political turmoil and other junk. John Steward and Stephen Colbert already covered those much more humorously than I ever could. I'm just going to focus on myself.

2010 was the year I started to get back into shape. I used to be in shape. And yeah, I know "round is a shape," but that's not what I mean. I mean I was in great shape back when I met my wife. I was hitting the Aikido dojo sometimes three hours a night, and usually four or five days a week. I was lifting weights, jogging, doing calisthenics, and there's no doubt that I was absolutely in the best shape of my life. Of course, I didn't have a girlfriend or much of anything to do, so I had lots of time for working out. Once that changed - I got engaged, finished college and got a job - I found I didn't have nearly as much time for fitness anymore. Plus, let's be honest, I never liked exercise all that much (Aikido was the exception - I loved that), and I was only doing it because I really, really wanted a girl to call my own. Once I had one, some of that motivation dissipated.

Regardless of the rhyme or reason, I definitely fell off the wagon there. I ate and drank a lot of calories and didn't do much to burn them off, to the point where by around 2000 I had swollen to 225 pounds. I stayed at that weight for around 10 years. I tried to get fit every so often. I bought a treadmill. That didn't help. Then I tried using the treadmill, but surprisingly that didn't really help, either. Which was discouraging. I counted calories, but that didn't help. Counting them wasn't my problem - eating them was the problem. 2010 changed all of that at last. I started karate in the spring, and started controlling my calories during the summer. By fall, I had lost 10 pounds, and by the end of the year I was up to 15! By mid-February, I'm actually brushing the edges of 25, which is awesome, but that'll have to wait for some other article, because it wasn't cool enough to have happened in 2010.

While I'm on the subject, 2010 was also the year I started my third or, arguably, fourth style of martial art. I did Tae Kwon Do for about a year as a kid under Albert Fortunato. I quit because I was a teenager who couldn't decide what he really wanted, and because being lazy is easier than doing Tae Kwon Do. Then as a college student I trained in Aikido for about a year at Aikido of Central New York. Which was awesome, but
I quit that, too, because I was poor and really needed to focus on starting my career. Which are also excuses, sort of, but they're true as well.

My wife, being a second-degree black belt in Goju-Ryu karate, was able to train me for a bit in her style, and then I also trained in it for two months under David Oddy in 2010, but there's no denying I'm a raw novice at that style. But 2010 was the year that I started training in Kenpo at Five Star Martial Arts, and it's my intention to stick with it for the long haul. If nothing else, it's been a huge help to me in getting back into shape and dropping all this weight.

But my past training also factored in to the year 2010. As I mentioned above, I got in those two months of Goju Ryu, where believe it or not I actually learned a lot in a very short time. But in addition, I actually attended my first Aikido training in over eighteen years, when Aikido of CNY hosted a seminar with a Sensei from Bermuda. It was great, and really reminded me how much I'd loved Aikido. I got to see some old, familiar faces and meet some new people.

2010 was also the year that I really got working on my novel - to the tune of a prologue and sixteen whole chapters written. That's less than half the total novel, which sucks because my original timeline over-optimistically called for me to finish the book by May of 2010. But it's a significant chunk of work, anyway, and I'm really proud of it. I'll be prouder when the damn thing's done, of course.

I wrote a short story, too. About a wizard. It was okay - I didn't really love it, but it was tailored to a particular anthology I was trying to get into. I actually came up with a huge list of "wizard-oriented" short stories that I may have to write up some day. I was quite taken with a few of them.

In the year 2009, I started learning to play the guitar. But in the year 2010, I gave my first semi-public guitar performance. Which is crazy, I know. And it wasn't very good, but it wasn't all that bad, either. I'm pretty proud of that. It would have been easy enough to utterly suck, but I didn't. I played for about three hours, through around eighteen different tunes plus some aimless strumming while people ate and chatted. That was pretty cool, but I'm not in any rush to play my next gig.

On a related note, no pun intended, 2010 was also the year I started playing the electric guitar. Which is really great, because it opens up a whole different sound and a wealth of different tunes I can play. My kids were busy, too - they started three new instruments: flute, piano and tin whistle. Aren't they cute?

As with most years, in 2010 I read a couple dozen books (at least). Some of them were really good.

In 2010, my family went to the Renaissance Faire twice in one season. For me, it was the first time in over fifteen years that I'd done that, and I don't think any of the rest of us ever had. I love the Renaissance Faire, and being able to play a dozen or so different faire tunes on my guitar gave me profound joy.

Lastly, but by no means least, 2010 was the year we adopted our cat. That's related to the fact that 2010 was the year I began my allergy shots. They're both expected to last for many years. I enjoy the cat quite a bit more.

All of that - and more - packed into twelve measly months.

Less of Me to Love

After 15+ years of weight-gain and generally being significantly overweight, 2010 was the year that I finally started moving in the other direction. It's been going on since April or so, so I figure it's past the point of being a fluke or a temporary thing. I really am on my way down at long last. I figured it was time for a little retrospective analysis.

As a kid, I was as skinny as they came. I remember my pediatrician telling me, "eat something!" I never thought much about food, really. I was a somewhat picky eater, but nothing compared to my own kids. I ate all sorts of pasta, burgers, hot dogs, meats, cheeses, soups, even a few vegetables. As long as it was reasonably American, I ate it. I just didn't gain weight.

Until I hit puberty. Then I slowed down and bulked out. I didn't play outside nearly as much, preferring instead to hang out in my basement eating Pringles and reading comic books. I started to put on weight to the point of being chunky if not outright fat. I started to suffer some self-esteem issues, but I didn't really know what to do about them and I apparently wasn't sufficiently motivated to figure it out.

By the time I started college, I'd decided I'd really like to try one of those "girlfriends" I'd been hearing so much about. And to my credit, by the time I was 20 I'd gotten myself into pretty good shape. It took me about a year of weightlifting, ab workouts, pushups, and regular cardio on a Nordictrack, but I definitely pulled it off. I got my weight under control and put on a fair amount of muscle. It worked, too - I met my one-day wife when I was about 21. She was pretty fit, we even started running together as she trained for her nidan (second-degree black belt) in Goju-Ryu karate. One of our favorite workouts was to put on the gloves and spar together, which we did for several years. I was also practicing Aikido at the time. Aikido classes don't have much of the "aerobics-style" activity of many karate schools, but the practice itself is so intense that it's a pretty awesome workout, anyway.

Sadly, I didn't stick with any of it. I got married, started a career, and moved into apartments where the sort of workout I was used to wasn't practical. I was just plain busier than I had been as a college student. And, let's face it, I was no longer missing the female companionship that had been a major motivator for me. It was all a recipe for sloth, and slothful I was. Starting around 1994, I gained quite a bit of weight, climbing from a "fit-peak" of about 170 to a high of 225 over the next ten years, and then staying there until early in 2010.

I did make a few abortive attempts to get my weight under control between 2004 and 2010. I bought a treadmill at one point, and used it religiously, 20-30 minutes a day for a couple of months. I literally didn't lose a pound. Haven't touched it since. There's $1,000 down the drain, but then spending money always was easier than working out. I tried prescription Meridia, too, but it didn't do squat for me. It's supposed to be an appetite suppressant, but I found that I'd lose 5 lbs of water-weight and then that was it. Again, I didn't lose another pound, and once I quit taking the Meridia, it came right back. The stuff wasn't covered by my insurance anyway, so I bagged the whole idea of better weight-control through pharmaceuticals. I tried calorie-counting a couple of years ago, but it didn't really help, either. I probably did eat less, but without some exercise it wasn't enough less to make any difference.

And that was it until 2010. In April, my whole family started to practice the martial arts together. I was getting high-energy workouts 2-3 times a week. I also started trying to "eat healthy," which didn't necessarily reduce my calories or intake by much, but at least substituted nutritious foods for the junk I'd been eating before. Finally, I started counting calories again and this time it made a big difference for me. I wasn't just counting them this time, I was using the process for portion-control. The karate alone moved me from 225 to 215 lbs between April and September. Since then, I've used calorie-counting and portion control to drop below 210 for the first time in about ten years. Apparently I've found the combination I really needed to be successful - the regular, intense exercise several times a week combined with controlling my diet. The holiday season is going to be really tough (freaking fudge has 135 calories in each little stinking piece!!), but I'm finally moving in the right direction after so many years. There will no doubt be challenges and I may very well level off a lot sooner than I'd like. It would be intensely frustrating, for example, to hit 195 and then get stuck there no matter what I did. My supposedly "optimal" weight is something like 150, which is laughable. I'd look like a hospice patient if I weighed 150 lbs. I think if I were a healthy, reasonably-muscular 170 that would be absolutely awesome, so that's my tentative goal. I'll see how I look and feel when I get down around 175 or 180 and reassess then.

Regardless of my "final" weight, which will of course fluctuate somewhat for the rest of my life, I'm sure, the upshot is that the results of my bloodwork at my last regular check-up in September were amazing. Easily the best they've been in the last ten years - cholesterol, triglycerides - you name it - all were right where they're supposed to be in a perfectly healthy person. THAT's the sort of thing that will help ensure I'm around to play with my grandkids some day. I'm looking forward to 2011 and the continued improvement in my health and weight. There will be less of me to love, and I love it.

(Note: that picture of me was artificially fattened by the latest computer technology.)

[Karate] Karate Confusion

The Martial Arts world is like most other avocations - there's a lot to learn, a lot of information to sift through, and a fair amount of misinformation floating around making it hard to know what's what. There's a lot out there that assumes you already know more than you do, and plenty of conflicting info as well. I'm sure it's no different with stamp-collecting or professional sports. Instead of teams and player statistics and coaches, we've got styles and katas and grand-masters to keep track of.

Because of my interest in the Martial Arts, I'd like to learn more about the styles I'm learning. Actually, I'd love to really understand a wide array of different styles - their similarities, their differences, their histories, etc. Heck, even things like uniforms differ from style to style and even school to school. It appears, for instance, that practitioners of Iaido, the Japanese art of drawing the Samurai sword, cutting with it, shaking off the blood and resheathing the blade in a very smooth and precise fashion, may wear a dogi that includes pants, a pleated pair of wide leggings called a hakama, a gi top, and an undertunic which is similar to the gi-top but with shorter sleeves. How do I know that? Well, I kind of don't - I inferred it from looking at Iaido uniforms for sale on one martial arts supplier's website.

But, if we assume it's true, it's a very different gi than that worn in most karate styles. The hakama is rarely seen in karate, and the gi is typically a light-weight or medium-weight cotton with leggings and a gi-top. More traditional dojos tend to use plain white with a logo or patch on the seam, breast or shoulder, while Americanized dojos may use uniforms of any weight, color or material, and they may even have tunic-style tops rather than the traditional wrap-around style. In Aikido, the gi is usually heavyweight, white, and reinforced on top. The hakama is common for women of all ranks, and for men who have attained the rank of shodan (black belt) or above. But some Aikido schools allow the wearing of the hakama at any rank. Among those styles that wear the hakama, blue and black are most common, though there's also white and red available. I have no idea who wears those, but it's worth noting that the Samurai were the original wearers of the hakama, I believe, and they wore a wide array of different colors, patterns and styles. So, technically, pretty much anything ought to be fair game if you want to get really historical. On the other hand, dressing as a true Samurai, in addition to being presumptuous in the extreme, is probably akin to dressing for the Renaissance Faire. It's technically still clothing, but it's hundreds of years out of fashion.

And anyway, all that's JUST the clothing worn by a handful of different styles to keep track of.

Now imagine trying to understand the lineage of teachers of those styles, where they came from, when they borrowed from each other, what's traditionally "real" and what was recently "made up" (which is funny in that it implies that the older techniques weren't, at one time or another, brand new and "made up" as well). It's all so much!

Still, some styles are clearer than others. Aikido, for instance, is less than a hundred years old. There are living people who trained under the founder of the style. There are still questions and disagreements, of course, particularly because the founder changed certain aspects of the style as he got older - either reflecting his belief system, the limitations of his aging body, or both. Likewise, Goju-Ryu karate has a very clear lineage that only goes back two or three generations, making it relatively easy to identify what its founder intended and actually taught. You'd think American Kenpo Karate would be as easy, having seemingly been created in the 1960s and 1970s, but you'd be wrong.

I'm currently practicing Kenpo, so I'd like to start by getting a handle on my chosen style. I know, for instance, who my Senseis trained under, and I know from his bio who their chief instructor, Kyoshi Steve LaVallee, trained under, but I can't find anything significant about Master Lee Thompson, who was Kyoshi's original teacher. Do I practice the Ed Parker style of Kenpo? Hawaiian Kenpo? Okinawan or Japanese Kenpo? Chinese Kenpo? Hell if I know.

I mean, I can infer some of it. For example, by searching Youtube videos of some of our katas, I can see practitioners of other Kenpo styles doing katas with similar names that also look very similar to ours. Most of those seem to be Ed Parker practitioners, which leads me to believe that what I'm learning is probably descended from him. I could try perhaps to contact Kyoshi LaVallee directly and see what he has to say on the topic, and I very well may, but just trying to even define what constitutes Ed Parker Kenpo seems to generate a considerable amount of debate on the old Internet.

I recently happened across the Kenpo Talk Forums, and I've decided to delve into what they have to offer in terms of knowledge and historical information about the style. If it's helpful, I'll post what I learn here.

So What is Aikido, Anyway?

In all my gushing (and moaning) about Saturday's Aikido seminar, I realize that it may not have really been clear to some of my readers just what exactly I was doing there. Fair enough - let me give you my take.

Aikido is a very unique martial art. It bears some superficial similarity to Judo, in that it is practiced with partners and involves various throws and joint manipulations, and no karate-style strikes except as something to defend against and practice techniques.

It's also a relatively new martial art. It was founded by Ōsensei, Morihei Ueshiba, in Japan in the 1920s. Ōsensei was a student of many styles, including Judo as well as Jujitsu (the Japanese kind, which I gather is somewhat different from the Brazilian kind that's so popular now, but I am unclear in what ways they vary) and Aiki-Jujitsu.

By the early 1920s, Ōsensei had begun to develop what would, over the next nearly forty years, become Aikido, and spread around the world. It evolved throughout his adult life as he embraced

Aikido of Central New York is, I believe, similar to most other Aikido dojos in general. At least it looks to be from the photos I've seen. It has a large practice floor covered in padded tatami mats. When I used to train there in 1991 (at a different location just up the road) there was a huge sheet of canvas with some sort of padding underneath, but the idea is the same. The padding is important, because there are a lot of Aikido techniques that result in someone being hurled to - or across - the floor.

Aikido is actually a very gentle martial art in many respects. You can always tell when you're being attacked by an Aikidoist, because they begin by saying "Grab my wrist!" Don't do it - you'll be sorry! The training involves watching each technique demonstrated by the instructor - usually a Sensei (teacher) - then practicing it with a partner called an uke. You and your partner take turns performing the ukemi - the role of the attacker - alternating back and forth to practice the technique.

Many of the techniques involve taking your uke down to the mat in a pin. They may also send the uke into a shoulder roll, or a backfall, or - if they're skilled enough to do it with confidence - a breakfall where they flip completely over and land with a painful-sounding smack. It actually doesn't hurt at all if you do it properly. Perhaps because of his early training, or possibly because his great-great grandfather was a noted Samurai, Ōsensei incorporated weapons training with both the bokken (wooden samurai sword) and the jo (a short staff meant to represent either a walking staff or a spear, depending on how it's used) into his style. On Saturday, I think I heard that they've begun practicing with the bo. or long staff, as well, but we never had in the past so I don't know much about where that comes in.

A big part of what I liked about Aikido was that it's so very graceful. Executing the techniques properly always seemed almost like a dance, rather than combat. And yet you got the sense that if you really understood and mastered them, they'd be very effective at warding off not just an attacker, but multiple attackers if necessary. That was practiced, in fact. We would sometimes perform rondori, in which one nage (the person performing the techniques) would be in the center of a circle of multiple uke. Each uke would, in turn, lunge at the nage with a punch, an overhead strike (shomenuchi), a diagonal strike to the neck (yokamenuchi), a wrist or lapel grab (I don't remember the Japanese terms for those, sorry) or, if the nage was sufficiently advanced - say, around 1st kyu or above - a front snap kick. The nage would not only respond to each attacker, but part of the exercise was to ensure that whenever possible they used their uke as a shield against further attacks, or sent him rolling in the direction of the other attackers to slow them down. Rondori was enormous fun and an awesome workout.

I also liked Aikido because it's very traditional. I trained at seminars with people like Sugano Sensei, Yamada Sensei and, if I remember correctly, Chiba Sensei - all of whom trained directly under Ōsensei. As a result, Aikido uses much more Japanese terminology than you often encounter in other styles taught in America, and there's very little differentiation between dojos. I noted at all the seminars I attended that the etiquette, terminology, techniques and even the warmup exercises tended to be done almost precisely alike from instructor to instructor, because that's how they were done at Ōsensei's home dojo, Hombu.

I'm committed to Kenpo karate right now, and I don't have time (or money) for anything else, so I don't expect that I'll be regularly training in Aikido again anytime soon. Someday, though, I definitely plan to return and take up my studies of this fascinating martial art.

Aikido Seminar

On Saturday, I attended a seminar at Aikido of Central New York. This was my first time practicing aikido in around eighteen years - I stopped back in late 1991 or very early in 1992. I loved training at Aikido of CNY, but life caught up with me and when I got out of college, I just couldn't devote the time or money to it anymore. I wouldn't say I regret that I stopped - it wasn't a choice I made lightly - but it sure would have been nice if I hadn't, from the perspective of the me living almost twenty years in the future. You can really become an expert in pretty much any style of martial arts in twenty years - I'd presumably be pretty advanced at aikido by now, and probably in much better shape. Ah, well, bygones.

Anyway, Saturday I was back in action. Seminars were one of my favorite activities when I used to train all the time. I remember attending at least four of them for sure - there may have been a couple of others. I especially enjoyed training with Sugano Sensei, and I'm very sad to learn that he died about three months ago. Saturday's seminar was with Sensei Collins Smith from Bermuda Aikikai.

Smith Sensei was very good and offered an excellent seminar. I have to admit, though, that it was quite a struggle for me. I've always found the seminars to be physically demanding, but I'm in much worse condition than I ever was in the past. By the end of the first hour of training, I was extremely tired. By the end of the second hour, I was utterly exhausted, panting, even trembling a bit with fatigue. I remember when we broke for lunch, I just put my forehead down on the mat and kneeled there for a time, trying to catch my breath. At least three people came over to make sure I wasn't having a heart attack or anything, which was very nice of them. I assured them that I'd be fine, and was merely worn out. In fact, in addition to breathing hard, I was fighting a powerful internal battle. Should I really try to come back after lunch, or should I call it a day?

I have to admit, it took more willpower than I thought I had to make myself come back for the afternoon session. It's been a long time... actually, I can't ever remember a time... since I was so tired and was still faced with even more exercise. Usually by the time I'm that worn out, class is over and I get to stop. This time, I had just as much ahead of me as behind me. What to do?

If I was going to eat, my options were to grab something nearby, or else drive home and have something there. This was my first test. I concluded - rightly, I still believe - that if I went home and sat down in my comfy chair, there's no way in hell I'd be able to make myself return for more. It would simply be far to easy to stay where I was. So that wasn't an option. At last, I asked myself what I really, truly wanted to do, and the answer was clear - I wanted very much to return. I wanted to finish out the day, both to get my money's worth and because, when I wasn't overcome with exhaustion, I really was having a wonderful time.

So I began to look for incentives I could use to ensure that I'd return. To begin with, the first afternoon session was going to be weapons. I like training in martial arts weaponry very much. I like it very nearly as much as I enjoy the core hand-to-hand curriculum. Since the first afternoon session was going to be the jo (a short staff meant to represent either a walking-stick or a short spear), that was a big reason for me to come back. Better still, weapons practice tends to be a lot less strenuous than the hand-to-hand stuff, so I decided I could probably handle it even being as tired as I was.

Next incentive: there was at least one member of the dojo with whom I had trained in the past and who had not been there for the morning sessions. Sensei Cong Nguyen had been a beginner just like me when I'd trained back in 1991, and now he's one of the senior instructors at the dojo (a fourth degree black belt at least). I very much wanted to see him again, and to do so I'd need to be there in the afternoon. Lastly, I had invited Sensei Pastore from my karate dojo, Fivestar Martial Arts, to stop by to watch the seminar. I wanted to introduce him to Yousuf Mehter Sensei, and as of the lunch break he hadn't made it over yet. Since I'd personally invited him, I would have felt really bad not being there if he did come. Adding all of those together was finally enough to overwhelm my desire to go lie down and sleep for the next eighteen hours.

I'm very glad I made it back for the afternoon. Not least of which because when it was all done, I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment at having fought through to the end. That was really rewarding. But equally as gratifying was the training itself and the people I got to talk to. For instance, Sensei Sergey Kushnir of Syracuse Jundokan is an instructor at Aikido of CNY as well, and he attended the afternoon session. As I'd hoped, Cong Nguyen was there as well and actually remembered training with me. Catching up with Cong after more than eighteen years was really terrific. I always enjoyed training with him - he was, and still is, a wild man. Plus Sensei Pastore stopped by as well, and got to watch us do some techniques from seiza, the kneeling position. My quadriceps complained, but seiza and hanmi handachi (kneeling against a standing opponent) are fascinating techniques that trace back to the samurai (who were often required to kneel for a wide array of cultural reasons yet had to be ready to defend themselves instantly against attack).

Best of all, though, was the training after lunch. We did a full hour with the jo staff, primarily using it to simulate a short spear. We started with very basic strikes and blocks, and then moved on to more and more advanced techniques, including one block that took a fair amount of thought and practice to get right. For the final session of the day, we all took a vote and, though I had voted for bokken, we ended up doing more empty-hand techniques. I was pretty well-rested by that point, however, and managed to finish out the seminar with only minimal difficultly (though I found it increasingly difficult to get back up off the mat by the time the day was winding down). The techniques focused on projecting energy against your opponent's wrist in such a way that you easily gained control over them. We did it kneeling and standing, and then turned it into a couple of different finishes. It was very cool, and not really something I remembered practicing in the past.

In general, however, it was mostly just as I'd remembered it. The dojo was physically different, and of course I'm older and in much worse shape, but so much of what I learned the first time through still felt really familiar. I got to work with a dozen or so different people and learn a wealth of techniques that were new to me and yet built on the memories I had of training so long ago. I had known that much of what I learned training in Aikido had stuck with me. I can still feel it in the way I move whether I'm performing self-defense techniques in karate or grappling with my boys. I can feel it when I slip and fall while sparring in karate, but roll instantly back to my feet ready for more. I can feel it in my hands and my feet, my wrists and my hips. I've forgotten a great deal, to be sure. I remember many of the terms and names for the techniques, but I can't remember which techniques they go with. I remember many of the techniques as well, but I have the same problem - I don't remember what they're called. And I remember iriminage vividly. I did iriminage incorrectly during my 5th kyu test and wound up with a deviated septum (ie. a broken nose). It certainly sunk in at that point - it literally smacked me in the face - and I'll never do it wrong the same way again, to be sure.

So what did I get out of Saturday's seminar? Well, I got a tremendous workout, that's for certain. Whew! I could hardly walk most of the day on Sunday. I got to renew some old friendships with people like Mehter Sensei and Cong Nguyen Sensei, and I got to introduce Curtis Pastore Sensei to the dojo's senior instructors and to Aikido in general - a brief taste of it, anyway. I made some new acquaintances and learned an array of techniques. And of course I got to train with Collins Smith Sensei of Bermuda, certainly a rare opportunity for a guy living in Syracuse, NY.

Best of all for me, though, was just being there. Just experiencing once again something that had, albeit for a relatively short time, been a really amazing and important part of my life. Something that easily could be a part of it once again, someday when the kids are older and I've got more time to myself. Because if I learned anything on Saturday, it's that I really can always go back. I was warmly welcomed at the dojo, but even more I was able to slide back in almost as if I'd never left. Sure, I'd have a lot to relearn, but it wouldn't take long and it wouldn't be insurmountable by any means. Aikido will always be an important part of my past, and I'm looking forward to the day that it is once more a part of my daily life.

So thank you to Smith Sensei for coming up to what must have felt like a frozen wasteland (compared to Bermuda, anyway) to teach an excellent seminar. Thanks to everyone else who attended the seminar for a tremendous, enjoyable workout. And a big thank you to Mehter Sensei and the instructors and students at Aikido of Central New York for welcoming me back so enthusiastically. It felt very much like being home.

Where'd Tuesday's Post Go?

Thanks to the dozen or so folks who stopped by on Tuesday. Sorry there was no blog post on Tuesday - I was absolutely swamped. The kids had two fillings first thing in the morning, and getting them there in time was a major task. That was followed by runs to two different drugstores trying to get an old single-use camera developed, then a haircut (which was several months overdue, honestly), then a quick lunch, a trip BACK to the drugstore to pick up the pics (well, the blank negatives - none of the pics came out), then coffee with some good friends, then a meeting at my kids school, then homework and a quick dinner for the kids, then karate, then... huff, huff, huff.

So anyway, yeah. No post on Tuesday. Sorry. And then what do I do? I turn around and give you this crappy post on Wednesday? I agree - totally lame.

Some brief updates, I suppose:

- The electric guitar is still awesome, though I can't really play it any better than I could play my acoustic. Probably worse.

- The writing has been underwhelming so far this week, but I'm looking forward to surging ahead over the next couple of days.

- Karate's going great - my family is "Spotlighting" this week for our purple belts, which is to say we're basically taking our Purple Belt test. The "graduation" ceremony pretty well assumes that you're going to get your new belt, as you've already demonstrated that you know the techniques. We're also attending our first "Elite" class on Friday, which means... I have no idea, actually. Sounds cool, though. Last week they started to learn the Bo staff.

- I'm strongly considering attending an Aikido seminar this weekend, which would be fantastic! I haven't done Aikido in over fifteen years and I miss it very much.

That's about it - I'll try to finish a real post for tomorrow.

The Evolution of Karate

Certainly many others have been far more personally involved in the martial arts over the last few decades than I have. They could write about the changes they've seen with more accuracy and authority. But this is my blog, so I'm going to have to do it.

When I think of the martial arts, I tend to think of various systems of combat techniques that have deep, historical roots and have changed very slowly, for the most part, over many generations. Each teacher might put his own spin on certain aspects of his style, but generally he would teach much as his own teacher had done, and his students would do the same. And that's just how it was, for hundreds of years.

In the 20th century, a wide array of changes occurred as westerners influenced the people of Asia and Asians shared their knowledge with westerners. The results included things like colored belts and not practicing in your underwear. It also included governing boards to oversee standards as well as "sport" competitions.

My experience, of course, begins only at the very end of that dynamic century. Karate, kung-fu, tae kwon do and other styles had already found their way to America and were reasonably well-entrenched. Even in a modest-sized city like Syracuse, there were a handful of well-known schools and an array of smaller ones. There were tournaments, seminars, demonstrations, contracts, kumite, and kobudo. At the time it was fairly traditional, or at least consistent with "modern" traditional martial arts as it was being done across the country and around the world. You selected a style, you trained in that style, and if you were really dedicated you might, at some point after many years of training, train in one or more additional styles and seek to really understand the heart and soul of martial arts.

In the late 1970s, aerobic exercise started to become popular. I remember when it was introduced at the Fairmount Tennis Club where I spent a lot of time hanging around while my mom played tennis. It really caught on in the 1980s. Karate, likewise, saw a surge in the 1970s and 80s, as it made its way into popular culture through legends like Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris, followed by movies like The Karate Kid. In the 1980s we had Flashdance at one end, and the films by Van Damme and Seagal at the other end.

By the early 1990s, the two started to come together. People wanted to exercise and get a good cardiovascular workout, and karate schools had time slots available and knew how to exercise. Somebody got smart and figured out, "Hey, I could take what I know about karate, add in the new Thai Kickboxing that's getting a lot of attention, and swirl them both together with aerobics! Why should the dance instructors be making all the cash?" And so was born 'cardio kickboxing.' The world of martial arts and modern fitness collided and merged, just like that.

In tandem, some schools saw Thai Kickboxing (or Muay-Thai) and decided that it could make a good addition to their own training. By the dawn of the 21st century, it became somewhat common to see kickboxing folded into the training of a non-Thai martial arts style.

Also throughout the mid-1990s and early 2000s we saw the rise of Mixed-Martial Arts. This "catch-all" term meant lots of things to lots of people, but it generally seemed to arise out of the Ultimate Fighting Championship cage-matches that began in 1993. The original idea - to find the best martial-artist and the best style of combat - was at first little more than a brutal gladiatorial event, reminiscent of the Kumite of Van Damme's movie, "Bloodsport." It was interesting to watch, at least until the Gracie family got involved. Then it got boring in a hurry. Why? Because the Gracie's ALWAYS won, and in spectacularly ho-hum fashion. It's just not that entertaining to watch them tie a guy up into a ball and hold him there for a minute or two until he gives up. But it was good enough to get MMA into the American martial arts milieu. The combination of boxing, Muay Thai, ground-fighting and whatever else you wanted to throw in has become increasingly popular throughout the last decade or so, finding its way into more traditional karate dojos or in some cases supplanting them completely. There are several martial arts schools around without any of the traditional Asian trappings - the white japanese gi or the black kung-fu uniform, the hakama, the bowing, the belts; they're all missing. The schools would look more at home in Rocky than The Karate Kid.

And so has karate evolved in the U.S. in the last thirty years in some respects faster than it evolved in Asia over multiple generations. Certainly there are still traditional dojos practicing only the pure forms of Goju-Ryu Karate or Chinese Kung-fu, but many, many others don't even mention what style of martial arts their school is based on. They haven't necessarily lost their way, but they've definitely chosen a different way, a different path.

I sometimes wonder why, though. Are these new styles more effective than the more "common" or "traditional" styles they've supplanted? I don't think so, no - at least not if they're practiced correctly. Are they easier to learn? Well, they might be - they typically don't have katas or the like to learn, so once you've learned the main strikes and blocks you're most of the way there. Still, they're going to take just as much effort to truly master, assuming the student and the school both care about that sort of thing. Certainly you don't see too many American kickboxers smashing their shins against trees or concrete bricks like the real Thai ones do. Mostly, it seems to me as if the styles have been chosen because they're "hot" or "cool."

Which also isn't inherently wrong - at least in my opinion. I choose to study the martial arts at least in part because I think it's cool. I just hope that the evolution of the martial arts is based on conviction and dedication, and does its best to avoid fads and buzz. Anybody who thinks they've figured out in a few decades what took the Chinese and Japanese, the Koreans and the Thai centuries had better really be onto something, or they might want to think again.

A Tale of Two Dojos

Choosing the place where we'll train long-term

[Note: this would normally be Monday's blog post, but I finished it early so here it is.]

My family and I have been happy at LaVallee's karate for the last 6-8 months. We've trained hard, learned a lot, sweated a LOT (especially me) and we're preparing to take our second belt test. I feel like overall it was a good experience. I suppose that at some point I might go into the details of what I do and don't like about the experience there, but overall we were happy and we would have stayed if we could afford it. Sadly, even with every discount and price break they felt comfortable throwing our way, the change from their six-months "intro" program to their full Black Belt Champions program involved doubling the cost to train there (or more) and also required that we sign a 3-year contract. The cost was simply not affordable for us and there's no way I'd ever sign a 3-year contract for services like this, so we're moving on.

Our kids would miss karate if we stopped, but they'd get over it pretty quickly. None of them are the gung-ho type who feels that karate is their personal calling in life. I'm not worried that they won't feel complete until they've mastered every kata, learned every technique, and earned their black belts and beyond. That's just not their style - they're fairly easy-going. Likewise, as much as my wife and I respect and enjoy the martial arts, we'd both gone for a decade and a half without training, so it's not as if our lives will fall apart without it. At the same time, the martial arts was the only sport I ever really enjoyed participating in, and of course my wife spent a LOT of years earning her 2nd-degree black belt way back when. It's certainly been a part of our lives, and we're planning to stick with it (and, if necessary, drag the kids along with us).

We investigated many other local dojos. My wife and I both made phone calls, used social networking, and did our research in the phonebook and on the web. We ruled out a couple of places because their websites or reputations just didn't speak well for them. We ruled out quite a few more because they were in the same price-range as LaValle's for a family our size. In the end, though, we've found two schools we're very happy and impressed with, and this week we plan to get together as a family and choose the one we feel will suit us best. Luckily, neither of them has anything close to a 3-year contract, so it's not as if we'd be locked in forever. I expect, though, that whichever we choose, we'll likely stick with for a very long time.

The two finalists in our Syracuse Northern Suburbs Dojo Roundup are... (drum roll!)

Syracuse Jundokan and Five Star Martial Arts!

 Sensei David Oddy at Syracuse Jundokan and Senseis Paul Napoli and Curtis Pastore at Five Star are all super-excited about the martial arts and passionate about training. I'm actually hoping they'll all get to meet at some point, as I think they'd get along tremendously. In the meantime, it's going to be very hard to pick just one of these very different schools.

Syracuse Jundokan's Sensei Oddy and Sensei Sergei Kushner both have "day jobs," and are encouraged by their home dojo in Okinawa to not "eat from karate" - keeping it as an avocation, rather than a vocation. As a result, the dojo's classes are very small (and will potentially remain that way for a while) and their facilities consist of a multi-purpose room at Champion's Fitness plus the after-hours use of the dojo at Aikido of Central New York (where Sensei Kushner trains his students for national AAU and NKF competitions). The facilities aren't tailored to their specific needs, but they're more than adequate to get the job done.

[On a personal note, if it were just up to me, I'd probably sign up again at Aikido of CNY as I really loved it there. But none of the rest of my family has any interest in that style. Such is life - fortunately I enjoy other styles of martial arts nearly as much. But I digress.]

At Five Star Martial Arts, Sensei Napoli and Sensei Pastore are making the martial arts their career. They've thrown their familys' livelihoods into opening their own storefront dojo with all the fixins. Their custom-designed logo hangs in a place of honor on the back wall. Their creed and values grace the front plate-windows and adorn the wall above the mirrors. There are video screens hanging on the wall and a whole closet filled with brand-new hand targets, body shields, focus mits, and anything else you can think of (excepting hojo undō, but I'll get to those later). They have brand-new tatami-mats and the whole facility is theirs to do with as they please and to schedule as many classes a day as they feel they can handle.

Syracuse Jundokan teaches traditional, authentic Okinawan Goju-Ryu karate. So authentic, in fact, that Sensei Oddy travels to Okinawa every year to train at the home dojo of his Okinawan masters - who trace their lineage directly to Miyagi Chojun Sensei, the father and founder (the O-Sensei) of Goju-Ryu Karate. The classes are extremely detailed and focused - sometimes spending most of the class breaking down and working on a single technique. Sensei Oddy is amazing - seeing him perform a kata like Seanchin, watching his precision and how he controls his breathing, is awe-inspiring. His depth and breadth of knowledge in his art are evident in every class he teaches. When I'm learning from Sensei Oddy, I can almost believe I'm in Japan.

Five Star Martial Arts practices Kenpo Karate - the Americanized version taught by Kyoshi Steve LaValle. Kyoshi is a student of seemingly every kind of martial art there is, and has folded most of them into his "Black Belt Champions" schools. I don't get the feel that Five Star is quite as diverse, as "blended" as LaValle's, but at their core they're still Kyoshi's students. In addition, they've been training for a few months under their new Sensei, Nick Dougherty, in New Jersey. I believe Sensei Nick is mostly their business mentor up to this point, but in time they'll be able to add his expertise to what they learned at LaVallee's.


My family has already been training part-time at Syracuse Jundokan for the last two months and I'm amazed at the things I've learned there in such a short time. I mean, it's not surprising that we'd have learned a couple of new katas - Gekesai Dai Ichi and two versions of Seanchin. But I also learned completely new theories around techniques like the horse stance, the cat stance, and even basic techniques like the upward block and the downward block, neither of which is, technically, what their name would imply (in fact, the downward block isn't meant to be a block at all, but a strike!). THAT sort of depth just blows me away and, as far as I can see, it's absolutely unique in the Syracuse area. It's not watered-down, but hard-core martial arts straight from the Far East. In addition, Sensei Oddy's Okinawan Goju-Ryu includes a type of exercise called Bunkai.

Bunkai is a wonderful way to train. Typically when you learn a kata, your instructor will tell you to "Imagine you're being attacked from the left with a front kick," and that helps you to visualize why you're doing the technique the way you are. Sensei does that (and in minute detail, explaining why virtually every muscle you move has a very specific purpose in the kata), but then he adds in a partner performing bunkai against your kata. As you block, the partner strikes. As they strike, you block. As Sensei Oddy says, "The kata informs the bunkai, the bunkai tests the kata." I've never seen anything like it and it really helps add a whole new dimension to kata. They're no longer just forms to be mastered, but actual, practicable combat techniques that you can train in a low-contact, non-competitive sort of sparring with your partner.

Five Star Martial Arts doesn't have nearly as much of the traditionalism that I personally enjoy - they bow to the American flag rather than greeting the Kamidana (a Shinto shrine and/or a representation of the Dojo's founder) in Japanese. The majority of the terminology, from counting to student responses to the names of techniques and stances, is in English. Only the terms for the instructors (Sensei) and the seated positions (seiza) reflect the style's Asian origins. What they do have, however, is a vigorous cardiovascular and calisthenic workout built into each training class. Granted, the classes are shorter to begin with than at Syracuse Jundokan and then the workout further cuts into the time spent learning and practicing techniques, however my wife especially likes the workout and I would have to honestly admit that if I don't get my exercise at Karate, I won't get it anywhere. I've spent most of the last 15 years turning my body into a sluggish, flabby sack of meat that gets out of breath if I jog up the stairs too fast. It took me three months of hard training at LaValle's before I could make it all the way through a class there without having to stop and gasp for breath for five minutes. So it's definitely true that traditionalism and vigorous exercise are both key aspects of what my family needs in its martial arts training, and they're available at different schools.

Though I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge Sensei Oddy's impressive (and growing) collection of traditional Okinawan exercise equipment. Called hojo undō in Japanese, these "supplementary exercise" tools are both impressive and (in my opinion as a clutz and a father of clutzes) horrifying (though I mean that in the nicest way possible. They really are very cool, I'm just certain that one or more members of my family will injure themselves trying to use them). His equipment includes concrete disks on wooden sticks called chi shi, which you heave around trying not to bonk yourself in the head in order to develop your hands, wrists and forearms (among other key muscle groups). Nigiri game are weighted pottery jars with a thick ridge around the opening where you grip them with your fingers. You then practice kata and other techniques while carrying them around. The tachi-makiwara (which he hopes to have re-installed soon) is a padded board used for practicing strikes. And his most recent (and, I believe, proudest) acquisition is the giant kongoken. It's a forearm-thick metal rod that's been bent so it has two long, parallel sides and is somewhat rounded at both ends (sort of like a 100-lb paperclip without the extra piece in the middle). This terrifying tool is used in many different ways to practice things like the hip-movement that powers the strikes in Goju-Ryu. Again, I am both awed and frightened by Sensei Oddy's collection of Japanese exercise equipment, and he makes it freely available to his students. Which is to say that if we put our minds to it, my wife and I (at minimum) could certainly get a good workout at Syracuse Jundokan. It's just going to require willpower and discipline on our parts, whereas at Five Star Martial Arts it's built in to the program.

Given how busy our five-member family is, especially during the school year, scheduling is an issue for us. It's also one place where Five Star's operation shines, since the two instructors (and owners) have the freedom to schedule multiple classes every day of the week, Monday through Saturday. Syracuse Jundokan's classes are Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and they run late enough that we don't get home until a good half-hour or more past the kids' bed-time. That's inconvenient in the summer, but during the school year I think it would be a major problem - especially since their school's arrival time has been moved up 35 minutes earlier beginning in September. The schedule at Five Star would have us home in time to read a book and get the kids tucked in by 8 PM so they're getting plenty of rest for school. Besides that, I'm really never available on Mondays as long as I'm meeting with my Writer's Roundtable, and I expect that to continue through at least the end of 2010, and probably well beyond that. As a result, we'd be limited to training at Syracuse Jundokan on Wednesday and Friday only unless the schedule changes (which I believe Sensei Oddy might be inclined to do at some point). If one of the kids ends up with a school activity on one of those nights, there wouldn't be much flexibility to shift our training to a different day. At Five Star, we can pick and choose the days and times that work best, and could easily train three or even as many as five times a week if we want.

Lastly, each dojo offers at least one unique training opportunity that the other does not. At Syracuse Jundokan, both Sensei Oddy and Sensei Kushnir have extensive experience with national competitions through the AAU and the National Karate Federation, which is considered the national governing body for U.S. Karate by the U.S. Olympic Committee. In other words, if you're training and competing under the auspices of the NKF, then you've got the opportunity to join the U.S. National Team and possibly even the U.S. Olympic Team. In fact, right now their student Bryan Randazzo is preparing to represent the U.S. at the Pan-American Games in Montreal in August as part of our National Team. That's pretty amazing and it's unheard of, as far as I can tell, from any other dojo in the greater Syracuse area. Training at Syracuse Jundokan puts you in the position to participate in AAU and NKF tournaments under the expert coaching of two veteran instructors.

I should acknowledge, though, that that isn't something my family's interested in right now. I'd be floored if any of them ever have the tenacity, the temerity, and the sense of self-sacrifice to put in the effort and commitment necessary to compete at that level. I can almost picture my youngest son showing an interest, but he's many years too young at this point. So while Syracuse Jundokan offers this impressive and unprecedented training opportunity, it's not directly relevant to my family's training goals.

At the same time, Five Star Martial Arts offers the same training in kobudo or, as they simply call it in English, weapons, as at LaVallee's. Not the full range of Okinawan weaponry - they don't appear to know the sai or the tonfa, but they train in the kama, the bo staff, the nunchuku, and they add in the katana because it's cool as hell. Now I certainly know that these tools are superficial to the martial arts training - they don't necessarily add to your empty-hand technique (though the katana certainly does if you're studying Aikido, which we are not) nor are you likely to have them with you should you ever need them, but let's be frank: I like traditional Japanese weaponry, I think it's neat, and given a choice I'd prefer to train with them than not. There's no deeper reason than that.

And there you have it - it's not quite a scorecard, because the advantages of each school aren't necessarily comparable or equally weighted enough to fit into gross categories. And if you're reading the above article and you conclude that "clearly he prefers dojo X or dojo Y," you've misread it (unless you're referring to my old Aikido dojo, in which case you're correct, but it's not an option). It's anything but clear, and in fact it's going to be one of the hardest choices my family has made in quite some time. Both dojos offer us tremendous learning opportunities and I'm absolutely certain that we'd be extremely happy at whichever we choose. Likewise, we're going to be disappointed not to be able to train at whichever dojo isn't selected. When we left Five Star on Friday after our second "intro session," the kids insisted we ought to train at both. Sigh. Yeah, guys, I'd like that, too. If only time and money were unlimited, I believe we just might.

Check back later this week. After we've made our decision and spoken to both dojos, I'll post it here. Wish me luck.

Update: the decision is now up! Click here.