Everyone Should be Incompetent Sometime

That is, I think every adult should try something completely new every few years. If you don't, how would you get to experience that moment when you realize that you know absolutely nothing. Or worse, that everything you know is wrong, all your instincts incorrect, your movements backwards and inside out. Every time you experience this, you gain countless amounts of empathy for every person you have to deal with in your life who you might otherwise be inclined to view as  incompetent themselves. Instead, you realize that we all have varying degrees of knowledge about different subjects, and at any given time in the situation of the moment, you may be the master, or you may be the newborn, helpless and incomplete.

As a black belt in karate, I could be basking in the feeling that I have Achieved Something. Arrived Somewhere. Hold some vast store of knowledge that I didn't hold before. Of course, most anyone who has achieved the rank of black belt knows that it's just the opposite. It's more like holding open a door to the vast yawning abyss of all that you don't know in your martial art. It's a dawning realization that even your entire lifetime would not be enough to master all of the skills encompassed in your study. That you have barely scratched the surface.

On top of that, my son recently convinced me to join him in studying Wing Chun, a form of Kung Fu. Now I should point out that all of my training in Karate prepares me to be absolutely incompetent in Wing Chun. I would probably be better off if I had no martial arts training whatsoever. When I'm punching, my Karate instinct is to bring my hand back into the chamber position and then fire it off using my hips and whole body to throw a big old punch, focusing on a fist that is parallel to the floor with the striking surface being the first two knuckles.

Which of course is absolutely nothing like a Wing Chun punch, which uses a vertical fist, no chamber, no big hips, short and fast, nothing of what I already know. And likewise the other strikes and blocks in Wing Chun are very different from what I have studied, leaving me basically feeling like I did on my first day as a white belt in Karate - a newborn, knowing nothing, an empty vessel. Or worse, not even an empty vessel. I first have to empty myself, which is much harder to do than you'd think.

Still, I'm loving this new focus, this new way to turn myself inside out. A new opportunity to still my mind, to unlearn and to learn anew. And when I take it back to my Karate classes, I find myself better prepared to understand what I am studying there. My focus in preparing for my 2nd degree black belt is a "package" of 10 kata (or forms), and these kata are all influenced by White Crane Kung Fu, which is different than Wing Chun, but shares some similarities. In essence, I'm learning the origins of moves that were folded into Shudokan karate many years ago.

As I study both arts, I find myself wrapping back around, like the tails of the yin yang symbol, into a place of understanding. A hard art, a soft art. An intercepting fist, a redirecting touch. Both effective in their own way, both with a place in my body and mind.

I'm learning to be empty, and I'm learning to be full.

My Escape From a Mugger Shows The Value of the Black Belt

I did one thing wrong on that Wednesday afternoon - a sunny day in a parking lot in front of the pool, a non-threatening location where my guard was down - I stood in the door of my car.

I was waiting for my daughter, talking on the phone. The car was hot, I got out and stood there, enjoying a few minutes of warm autumn sunshine. I was distracted, chatting with a person in a ticket office, my credit card held loosely in my other hand as I read off the numbers.

At first, the man approaching me looked like any other young guy walking down the sidewalk. Maybe his pants were hanging a bit low, a chain connecting his wallet or keys draped across his front. The baseball cap on his head turned backwards, the loosey-goosey gangsta walk gave him an aura of trying a bit too hard to be a bad boy. But you see guys like this all the time.

So I didn't pay attention as he came towards me along the sidewalk -  until he veered straight at me. Only then did I realize the vulnerable position I'd put myself in. Trapped against the door of my car. Unable to get in and slam the door in time to shut him out. By the time the second or two had passed between him seeming like another guy walking by, and him being a guy walking towards me looking like trouble, I had nowhere to go. I had forgotten the golden rule of being a woman: never let your guard down.

What happened next probably took less than a minute. It went by so fast that only in retrospect could I analyze what had transpired between us. In the moment, it went something like this:

Thug: You're going to give me that phone and your credit card.
Me (surprised, still chatting on phone): What?
Thug (getting in my face, reaching out) Give me your phone!
Me: (to person on other end of line) Excuse me just a moment
        (to thug): No, I don't think so
Thug (getting angry) You f***ing little b*tch! What, you think I can't take this. You (stream of obscenity I won't reprint)
Me: I think you need to leave me alone now. Move away.
Thug moves away down the sidewalk uttering more curses at me over his shoulder

At first, I was simply shocked that he left me alone. He was probably six feet tall and 190 pounds. He had me trapped in a corner. What the heck happened here? But when I replayed the incident in my mind, I realized what had really occurred - a complex dance of body language and words, a moment in which years of training in martial arts had kicked in, and tipped the direction of the encounter.

When I looked back, moment by moment through the encounter, here's what happened in my mind and body:

Thug: You're going to give me that phone and your credit card.
Me (surprised, still chatting on phone): What?

I look around, realize I'm trapped. Realize I've put myself in a bad situation. Without realizing I did this until later, I slipped off my flip-flops and kicked them back under the car.

Thug (getting in my face, reaching out) Give me your phone!
Me: (to person on other end of line) Excuse me just a moment
        (to thug): No, I don't think so

I examine the thug from head to foot. His eyes look clear - no evidence of drugs or alcohol. I sniff, no scent of alcohol on his breath, and his face is only inches from mine, so I should smell it. No bulges in pockets that could be weapons. Hands are both out in front of him. He could have a weapon in the waistband of his pants but it would take him a moment to retrieve it. He's gesturing with his right hand, probably right-handed then. I have more room to his right side, so if he comes at me with an attack from that direction, I can block, move past him, and probably take out his knee.

Thug (getting angry) You f***ing little b*tch! What, you think I can't take this. You (stream of obscenity I won't reprint)
Me: I think you need to leave me alone now. Move away.

My body language shifts into defensive mode. I come up on the balls of my feet, ready to move, like a fighting stance in karate. My phone can be used as a weapon to strike him on the temple. My other hand is open, I draw in a slow breath, speak calmly, and look him in the eye. I can see this is totally unexpected for him. He expected this woman to back down and give him what he wanted. He's confused, both by my politeness and by my readiness to engage. I literally watch him evaluate, and back down.

Thug moves away down the sidewalk uttering more curses at me over his shoulder.

Now, things might've turned out differently if he'd had a weapon. If he'd been on drugs, or looked like he was mentally unstable. I might've made different decisions based on a thousand factors. But the truth is, the years of training that went into becoming a black belt helped me make all of those decisions on the fly. And ultimately, I knew I had options, I had defenses. Even though I'd originally put myself into a bad position (lesson learned there), I was able to get away from a bad situation.

This is why even on the occasional days when my kids don't want to get up and go to karate, I insist. My kids are both teens now. They bike or take the bus places without me. They're out in a world that's usually wonderful, but can sometimes turn ugly in a heartbeat. I need to know that they will have options too.

Countdown to Ironman, Week 32: Courage Breath

In our form of karate, we practice different sorts of breathing as well as learning to kiai (what people think of as the "Aiii-yah" in badly dubbed martial arts movies). While a kiai is described as an " inner gathering of energy released in a single explosive focus of will", there are also "focus breaths" and "courage breaths". A focus breath occurs anytime you strike, block, or someone punches at you, and serves to both focus your energy as well as tensing your abdominal muscles to protect your core organs, it's short and sharp and comes from the gut. A courage breath is a slow breath that you take in through the nose and release through the back of your mouth in a Darth Vader-like manner. We use these while making slow, intense, focused movements in a kata, or while gathering energy and mental calm before performing a move.

It's funny, but at stressful times in my life (like, oh, when the kids are bickering while I'm line at the bank, not that this ever happens to me....), I find myself using a courage breath to momentarily center myself and give myself just a tiny mental time-out and re-focusing. It might sound a bit weird to the people around when you suddenly emit a Vader-ish breath or two, but it really does work. And keeps you from knocking your kids heads together.

While training, preparing, and planning for an Ironman is undoubtably thrilling and exciting, it's also nerve-wracking and to be truthful, a bit fear-inducing. I can get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it too much, and I've learned never ever to think about it late at night or I'll be up for hours from the sudden jolt of adrenaline. Clearly, my body knows how serious it is, even if my mind can fool itself into thinking these are trivial details about an event that is far, far away (though creeping up, week by week).

I've decided to employ the courage breath as a regular part of my Ironman training. Borrowing from my martial arts, my plan is to use this breath both during training (since the intervals that are the bulk of my current regimen regularly make me nervous) and during racing when I'm sure there will be some moments when I will need to call on my reserves of courage and calm. I'm going to practice drawing in and letting go of that courage breath when I'm standing on a cold, misty lakeshore in my wetsuit, or heading to the track at dawn.

One thing I've learned well from karate is that nothing, not even breathing, can be done well if you don't practice it with intention. So today my intention is to breathe well, and take courage from my breath. You can follow along, everybody now... inhale..... and aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh. See, don't you feel better already?

Sunday Snap: Paint It Black

Sometimes a picture really is worth a thousand words. Can you guess why my daughter made me this card?

When my partner and I started preparing in earnest for our black belt test several months ago, I guess I thought it would be all work and no play. In reality, this is the most fun I've had in martial arts. No small bit of that is due to my partner Toni, who made it an exceptional experience. We laughed as much as we sweated, and that's saying something.

Of course, it wouldn't be a ROBIN moment if something didn't go wrong (remember in 2010 when I was getting ready to test and I broke my arm? And I broke my hand in 2009? ) This time it was nothing near that traumatic, but a big splinter that embedded itself in my foot a couple weeks ago provided just enough pain to make the test just that much more "special". I spent a couple of hours after Friday night's test waiting around an ER on a full moon night (not recommended) so they could dig it out, but eventually gave up and went home. Today I finally got it removed.

Other than that, our test went off without a hitch. Our extra brain cells cheered from the sidelines as us black-belt wannabes went through our paces. After it was all over, the black belts clumped together to deliberate our fate, while they had us occupied with sets of pushups, squats, situps, etc. until they were done talking. Luckily, we got to hear our results on Friday night so we could actually sleep!

Saturday morning was the test for the rest of the belt levels, and the presentation of black belts. You think I could smile any bigger? I can't really describe how it feels, but if you've ever done something that required 100% of your effort, dedication, perseverance, and courage to accomplish, you'll know what it was like to put on that  black belt for the first time.

Then, ceremony is over and you're put to work. The black belts get to grade all the other belt levels in their test, so I was handed a clipboard and assigned a couple of green belts to evaluate and it was all business. I watched my own two kids (brown belt Mackenzie and green belt Asa) out of the corner of my eye here and there, and my mom took photos.

I am SO proud of them and all they've accomplished in karate. They are each on the same journey and it's exciting to see them getting stronger in their art. What's not to be proud of when I look at these photos? Mackenzie's stance is so strong, his fist straight and true, his focus is absolute. Asa has a great "cat stance" here and her double-knife hand block is spot on, mouth opened in a "courage breath". Every day we train at the dojo, I am thankful for the first day we walked through the doors.

When I talked with my dad on the phone yesterday, I asked him to say a big thank you to my first Sensei, who he still sees from time to time. At age 15, I got a love for the martial arts, and today I have reached the first of many big milestones. I hope to continue my practice for years to come.

D-Day

After years and years of training, it all comes down to this. Thirty pairs of black belt eyes will be upon us. The moment of truth. Will I crumble under the pressure, or shine like gold? D-day has arrived. Or should I call it "BB-Day"?? Black Belt final testing day is here, though my partner and I have been through several pre-tests in the last two weeks. So we are somewhat inoculated against the stress, I hope.

One thing that surprised me about this whole process is just how much fun it's been. I think most of that is due to my partner. Training with Toni has been such a blessing, I think we bring out the best in each other. Your partner for the black belt test has to be someone you can trust. After all, they are going to do things like grab your arm and throw an elbow towards the center of your nose, choke off your carotid artery, or wrist-lock you in a move that would snap tendons and bones if done at full force. Just a few millimeters wrong or a few too many pounds of pressure and you're in serious trouble. Choosing a good partner and training with them for months ensures that you each know each other well enough to fully trust them. But Toni and I have laughed together and just had a great time, as well as getting serious when we need to.

As extra insurance, I got us each a stuffed brain cell, made by the GIANT Microbes company, just in case our original 44 year old grey matter isn't quite up to the task. We've propped them on the benches in the dojo while we're practicing, though here you can see them tucked into our belts.

I've used every tool in my mental toolbox to get myself ready. The physical training is not something I've worried too much about. I know what my body is capable of. I know I can push it very hard. I know pain doesn't bother me much. I know it will do what I demand of it. But my brain, oh my poor brain. That's what I worry will desert me in my hour of need.

There's not much more we can do at this moment to prepare. Everything that's stored in our brain cells and bodies is there. Anything that isn't won't get there in the next few hours. We'll meet in the morning to just go over stuff, and by 8:30 tonight it will all be over. If you hear me Hooraying over there on the East coast, you'll know I got my black belt.

No Flinching Allowed

Once you've been punched in the face repeatedly, it leaves you with the desire to avoid ever doing that again. Ever. Sadly, as a woman, I'm far from alone in my experiences. A brutal assault when I was in college by a man in my apartment building left me in the hospital with a broken nose and multiple stitches in my face. So when it comes to karate and sparring, I'm about the worst flincher around. Something comes anywhere near my face and I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head. In normal karate practice, it's taken years to train myself out of that reaction.

I have to admit, I've tried to avoid sparring as much as possible. That was easier to do at the lower belt levels, but now it's just not possible. Yet at the same time, my experience with being assaulted is part of my motivation for training in the martial arts. Clearly, this is something I have to overcome. So when it comes to me and sparring, it's been the mountain I've had to force myself to climb. I mean, there's no point to training in martial arts if you freak out every time someone throws a punch at you, right?

That's why I'm so proud of myself that yesterday morning I set my alarm at 6:00 am to go to a sparring seminar with my son. Taught by Tim Tolliver, a sparring champion and really excellent instructor, we had an hour and a half of focusing on sparring techniques.

That gave me enough of a boost that I managed to buckle up and register to compete in sparring as well as kata. Since breaking my arm last year, I haven't even done much sparring in class, so I wasn't only concerned about my flinching and basically panicking, I was just plain worried that I would suck! And I sort of did. I mean I know I have pretty good reaction times, can block well, and have fairly fast hands and feet. If I could just stop closing my eyes, I might be okay.

It turns out, the worst of my problems was not with hitting or getting hit. Fortunately, neither of those seemed to bother me too much. It was with hitting too hard. This tournament was "light contact" and you can even score points for no contact if it looks like you would hit the person. That was hard to get used to. Clearly, if I'm going to compete in this division, I need to focus on control and targeting more than anything. Especially in my division (women over 35, which annoyingly are called "Senior Women". Senior??? I'm not ready for that 'til I'm 65, thank you very much.), the judges were watching the contact very closely. I watched other divisions fight and let's just say that the contact was neither light not non-existent.

Strangely, I felt myself wishing I could compete more like the other divisions, which is funny. Here I thought I'd be afraid to get hit and instead the adrenaline of the fight was a rush.  In other words, I actually liked sparring. As soon as I started facing off with an opponent, it was like "Game on". I won my first round, which gave me a little boost. Second round was with the woman who eventually took 1st place. I got a few penalties, and ended up with negative points. Had to climb out of a points hole. Unfortunately, time ran out and she was still ahead of me at the end of the round. I ended up in a round that decided 3rd or 4th place. Third place was a trophy and 4th was a medal. Okay, I know that's really really silly but damn it I wanted that hardware. So I concentrated on pulling my punches and eked out a 3-2 win for third.

Overall, I surprised myself by liking it. We have plenty of black belts in our dojo who like sparring, so I know I can learn a lot if I just do it more and ask them to show me some good techniques. The black belts in our dojo are all very helpful. Next time, I'll be even better. And I won't flinch.

Look Ma, No Bruises? Paleo Strikes Again

My karate partners reported something shocking. Both women were cautioned by their doctors about domestic violence, given helpline phone numbers, and information about the women's shelter. Why? Because their arms are covered with "defensive wounds", aka bruises from our karate class. Their doctors thought their husbands had been whuppin on them. If that wasn't so sadly all-too-common, it would be funny.

So now the big question is this: why, when my partners and I have been hitting each other, our forearms colliding a few hundred times per class, are my arms not covered by bruises? Why, when I leave class with them red and blotchy and starting to purple do they look like this just a few hours later?

The answer came when I was browsing though a Paleo eating forum (there's a forum for everything, isn't there) and someone posed the question: "Does anyone else notice that they don't bruise easily any more?"

Yeah, as a matter of fact, I noticed that. My arms and legs used to be covered with bruises all the time. And now they're not.
One person had this to say in response:

Another aspect of the paleo eating lifestyle is that the blood vessels, veins, capillaries slowly become more pliable and elastic. Thus when the body is abused, the veins and capillaries have some give and do not break as easily to leak blood under the skin.

Also the vascular system is not as rigid due to some microscopic removal of plaque that had been layed down before elimination of non paleo foods such as wheat and sugar. Also the vascular system has opened up a tiny, tiny bit thus allowing more blood to flow with less effort by the heart muscle.

The resulting increased flow of blood, the pliability and less rigid vascular system due to changing to a paleo eating lifestyle are aspects of why people are able to correct their high blood pressure with diet alone.

Now that may be speculation, but it sounds plausible to me. For sure, my body feels completely different. It heals faster, I don't have the stiffness of beginning arthritis in my fingers that I've had for the last couple of years. My muscles are barely sore after tough workouts, and now my bruises barely appear and then they're gone. All evidence that the paleo diet is effecting change on a deep and cellular level in my body.

Oh Beep Me!

You might have noticed my new little Powerpuff Girl countdown timer on my blog sidebar (True Confession: I actually have -- and sleep in -- the Powerpuff Girl pajamas pictured above...). The timer is there to remind me every day that I need to focus my attention on my karate practice. As of this exact moment, it tells me I have 27 Days, 20 Hours, 2 Minutes and 47 seconds until my black belt test.

Or not.

Our Sensei dropped this little bomb on me: We'll have to do the test twice. The first time will be on video, which she'll send up to Morris Mack Sensei, head of the American Shudokan Associatio. There, he will give a Caesar-like thumbs up or thumbs down. Assuming we pass that, then comes the pre-test at our dojo to make sure we're not going to waste the time of all the black belts who will come to judge us for the actual test. Then there's the test, which is now 27 Days, 19 Hours, 48 Minutes and 31 seconds away (but who's counting?).

So, what this means is that I have to be ready to test in less than two weeks for the video. Ulp. I am ramping up my game every way I know how: eating well, sleeping eight hours a night (you might notice I miss a few day's blogging now that I'm not staying up late here on the computer), practicing daily by myself, in class, and with my partner, focusing my attention and practicing positive visualization and affirmations.

One thing that's working in my favor is my years of conditioning: strength, endurance, and speed. I don't really have to work at any of that right now because it's already stored in my body and brain. That's a big bonus that I never thought about before, but it's a gift from my triathlon and strength training. I know I can last through the test without becoming fatigued. That's one thing I know will go right at least.

Beyond that and for all the rest, I just have to pray that I'm ready.

The Flipside: What Happens When An Endurance Athlete Goes Anaerobic

I've been tired lately. Like really tired. Go to bed at 10:00 tired. Take a nap in the car while my daughter is in her riding lessons tired. Tired like training for the Ironman tired. At first I thought maybe it's this Paleo eating thing, I remember the last time I felt really bonked out from the lack of carbs for the first couple of weeks. But that should've passed by now.So I took a look at my exercise/food/sleep journal to try to tease out what the problem is.

Oh. Yeah. There it is. I added up my hours for the last few weeks. 10+ hours of karate a week. Plus an assorted 3 - 5 of running and swimming. Yeah, that makes 13 - 15 hours a week of training, or about what I averaged for the longer weeks of my Ironman cycle. On top of that, it's flipped from what my training was for the last few years, where my endurance workouts made up the bulk of my training, with a bit of sprints, hills, and anaerobic stuff thrown on top. Now most of my training is anaerobic with just a smidge of endurance and boy does that anaerobic stuff kick your booty. Today I went to three karate classes. In each one we did several sets of 50 punches in a squat position, alternating with sets of kicks. That was the warm up.. By the third class, I was taking bets whether my arms would fall off before my legs collapsed beneath me, or vice versa.

Couple that with the fact that I've largely been doing trail running instead of street running (my favorite trail run gains 1000 ft in the first mile alone) and that means that even my "easy run" days are a lot harder than they used to be.

So if I'm not up late posting here on my blog anymore, you know why - I've collapsed beneath my down comforter and I'm sawing logs. Or more likely dreaming of kata.

A Date With The Black Belt

What do Pythagoras, St. Augustine of Hippo, and myself have in common? As it turns out, a bit of an obsession with numbers and the meanings behind them. I don't like to think of myself as superstitious (who does, in this modern "logical" age?) but I admit that I have a set of personal numbers, and our family has a family number that just seems to keep cropping up in everything we do. I won't give away our family number, but let's just say that everything from phone numbers to license plates to driver's licenses to the tail numbers on our old airplane keep repeating the same four digits in the same order.

My personal number though is 19. My birthday, my wedding anniversary, and other important dates keep cropping up around the number 19. So although I hate to admit it, I was really happy when my Sensei told me that our black belt test would be on March 19.

In various numerological systems, the numbers one and nine translate as follows:
1: Individual, agressor
9: Highest level of change

That seems auspicious for a black belt, no? No one can do this test for me, it's a purely individual effort. And it would certainly reflect the "highest level of change" if indeed I can achieve it.

Or how about the Chinese (Cantonese) interpretation:
一 [jɐ́t]  — sure
九 [kɐ̌u]  — long in time

I like the notion of "sure" as it relates to the coming test. I'd like to feel REALLY sure about it when the day comes. And "long in time" is certainly appropriate. This year will mark my 5th year in this dojo, and 10th year total in the martial arts. My black belt test will be a culmination of many years of effort and practice.

So I'm very happy to have this date hanging out there, a date when everything I've been practicing will hopefully come together in one perfect moment where I can demonstrate what I've learned. Not unlike a big race like the Ironman, so much preparation has to go into it. It's one of those things that can't be faked or shortchanged.

When I was younger, many things came easily for me. I came to associate myself with being "successful" in my head. But what that meant was that I was very afraid to try anything that would show me to be "unsuccessful". If indeed I tried something and I failed, I had to immediately make an excuse as to why I didn't succeed. I was feeling sick that day, I twisted my ankle, I was distracted by some important thing. Eventually, I tried fewer and fewer things that I didn't think I could accomplish.

Martial arts was one of the first things I ever tried that was really hard for me, and that I couldn't immediately succeed at. It's a practice that takes years and years to master. There's no way to cheat it or to learn it quickly and easily. You simply have to put in the long, hard work. Several times I quit, for various reasons. Then, five years ago I made a determination that this time I was going to see it all the way through. And now it comes down to this:

Two months. Eight weeks.

That's all the time I have left to solidify everything I know into my muscle memory. Make sure it's buried in concrete in there so every technique is as good as I can make it, and every move gets remembered. I'm training as hard now for this as I trained in the last two months for the Ironman. Twelve hours a week of karate, plus my usual conditioning work (swimming and running and weights).I go to sleep and I dream in karate. It all comes down to this.

RELAX... In Between the Punches

Have you ever learned something new, only to have it pop up over and over again in all kinds of circumstances? That's how my week has gone. In my karate training, I have lots of power. Power is not my problem. Relaxing is my problem. Especially when the sensei is watching, I get so tense I'm wearing my shoulders for earrings. Not surprisingly, this has always been my issue with running as well - carrying a lot of unnecessary tension in my upper body.

Funny thing is, I coach swimmers and one of the main tenets of swimming is you have to be able to relax your recovering side while all of the muscles in your stroking arm are tense. You have to be able to relax your feet and ankles while your hamstrings and glutes do the hard work of kicking. So I should be able to apply that knowledge of simultaneously relaxing and tensing in other circumstances right?

Except that it's really really hard to do. Karate is humbling for me. One of the reasons that I love it is that it teaches me on a daily basis how hard it is to learn this stuff. And that's how hard swimming is for many of the people I'm coaching. Swimming always came naturally for me. I was one of those kids that people called "a fish". I firmly believe I was a dolphin in a former life, that I've always lived underwater until now. That's why I'm so clumsy on land. And maybe that's why my feet are the size of flippers.

So my lesson this week is to relax in between each block, kick, and punch, and only tense my muscles at the last possible second. It doesn't sound all that easy, and trust me it's not as easy as it sounds. Our muscles are so tied together in our brains that undoing those connections of which muscle to tense and which to relax takes time and some mental effort. At the Chi Running seminar this weekend, I also got a great refresher on relaxing my ankles and feet while running, something I struggle with more than any other aspect of Chi Running.

If I think about it, there is also a great application in the rest of life. There are times when tension and action is necessary, and times in between when we need to relax. If we fill all of that time with activity and stress, everything suffers including the things we want to be able to do well. We need the Yin as well as the Yang. Just as I struggle with relaxing the non-necessary muscles, I also struggle with allowing myself time to just be, time without busyness and action. How do you get yourself to relax, either mentally or physically?

The Ironmom Extra Mile: More reading on the Han Dynasty Synthesis and the meaning of Yin and Yang within Taosim at WSU's Chinese Philosophies site

How Karate Made Me Swim Faster

Due to our crazy family schedule, plus all the karate and kickboxing I'm doing lately, I've only gotten into the pool once a week (and not even that in the last few weeks). So how is it that I'm getting faster? How is it that I just made a move up to our fastest Master's lane? How could I be coming in on 2:30 for the 200's and not even feeling like I was pushed to the limit?

It's very simple: skills transfer. The skill of swimming fast largely depends on being able to fire your core muscles in a carefully choreographed series in order to propel your arm outwards from your body and into the glide. Then you need to use the core muscles in your back to haul your arm back toward you, carrying all of that water with it. These are the same muscles and almost the same sequence it takes to throw a really good punch.

You throw a punch from your hips, not from your biceps. Likewise, you swim from your hips, not on the strength of your arm muscles. People who say "I did a hard swim workout today, my arms are really sore" are missing the larger part of the swimming stroke. All of that punching I've been doing has made my stroke stronger, because I'm learning how to fire my core muscles harder, faster, and longer. Likewise, all of the conditioning I've been doing to make my karate better has helped not only my punching and kicking but my swimming.

So you want to swim faster? Go punch a bag! Learn how to throw and retract a hard punch, and see how much that tranfers to your stroke. Not only that, I guarantee that it's terrific stress relief!

Sweat and a Smile

You should leave every workout with "sweat and a smile". That was the message today from Sensei Morris Mack, the head of the American Shudokan Association, our line of Shudokan karate-do. Before going to their karate recital, I impressed on the kids how lucky they are to be able to train under our Sensei, who was a student of Sensei Mack's, and also to be able to listen to Sensei Mack's advice and watch his demonstrations when he comes down from Yakima for our testing days. He is a great storyteller and keeps the students spellbound as he demonstrates techniques.

Today I got a real laugh out of his demonstration, as he told the students he wanted to teach them the six-step karate punch. My kids thought they were going to learn something very new and special, mysterious and powerful. And what he taught them was..... the same punch they learned on our very first day as white belts! Ha ha. But, Sensei Mack explained each step of it and why each individual element was important, before having them practice it over and over slowly. And then, he did some demonstrations and let's just say that he is one 72-year old you would never want to get punched by. I don't think you would even see it coming. Let's put it this way: I couldn't press the shutter button on my camera fast enough to capture one of his punches. The closest I got was the photo above, where he's already in the recoil.

For once, I was just in the audience at their recital, since I won't be testing again until I go up for my black belt (hopefully in three months), so I could just watch them do their stuff and be the proud mama. My son was testing for second degree brown belt, he will be about nine months behind me in testing for black belt. In the photo above, he's defending against a knife attack. My daughter is going for her black stripe on her green belt, after that the brown belt will be next for her. In this picture, she's doing a wrist-grab takedown. I love watching them move with confidence through their kata and their techniques.


I love how every class leaves them with sweat, and a smile. Isn't that how all of our workouts should end?

The Black Belt: What It Takes

Have you ever wondered what it means to be a black belt? When I started in martial arts training, like all of the other lower belts I was in utter awe of the black belts. It was like the superheros from Justice League had descended to earth to walk with the mere mortals.I knew what I had to accomplish to get to my next belt level, but I had no earthly idea how someone attained a black belt. All I knew is that they had to be very very good, I could tell that when I watched them practice. They were fast, lightning fast. Their moves were powerful and sure, their stances were strong and steady, their kicks looked like they could break you in two. At the time, my punches felt awkward, my stances a bit shaky, and kicks... well let's just say that kicks were my weak point for a loooonnnggg time.

So now that I'm at the point where my goal has gone from achieving a gold belt to a blue to an orange, purple, green, and brown... I'm staring at what it takes to become a black belt.  By now, the years of drilling the basics (blocks, punches, stances, kicks) have moved my technique from the shaky to the solid, from the slow to the at least reasonably fast. Adding in the kickboxing recently has started taken my kicks and punches to the next level of speed and power. I'm beginning to think that they might be approaching black belt quality. That's good!

But wait, there's more. A lot more. Learning the basics is like learning the alphabet: you can say your ABC's but you can't really read a book. Being a black belt isn't just about knowing the alphabet, it's about stringing together words, sentences, paragraphs. So the next thing you learn is combinations. This comes in the form of sparring combos (backfist, sweep, punch), defensive techniques (in our dojo, each belt learns a new defense, from defending against wrist grabs to bear hugs, chokes, and eventually to defending against knife and gun attacks), and elbow techniques (deflecting an attack and following up by using your elbow as the primary weapon). These techniques comprise the "words" of karate, just as the basics were the alphabet.

But words are no good if you can't put them together into something meaningful, and this is where kata comes in. A kata is a series of moves that you learn, almost like a dance routine (think Electric Slide, but with kicks and punches). Some of the kata are quite ancient. My favorite, Bassai Dai has many different versions, and has a lengthy history, dating back over 400 years. It is comprised of somewhere around 40 - 50 moves, depending on the version. For our black belt test, each of those moves will be watched by the hawklike eyes of the other black belts in the dojo. They will be scrutinized for form, speed, power, recoil, timing,  targeting and more. So in a nutshell, each of those moves has to be perfect or as close as we can get it.

But wait, there's more. For black belt, we have ten kata to memorize. Each of them with many moves, each of which must be performed approaching perfection. We think about and practice every detail, down to which direction our toes are pointing on each move, and where our eyes are looking.  I'm breaking out in a cold sweat already just thinking about it.

And that's just the start of it. For each kata, there are Bunkai, which are the applications of the moves in the kata. Every section in the kata is a combination of blocks, punches, kicks, turns, fisthammers, heelhands, knees, and sweeps. Each section has its own Bunkai, which is several of these moves put together and practiced with an attacking and defending side. There are often 5 - 10 bunkai per kata. You perform these with a partner.

For the cherry on top, there are the two-person sets. This is a combination of all of the bunkai in the kata, plus some other moves thrown in for good measure. Now there is no longer a single attacker and defender, but the action flows backward and forward between the two people. One person downblocks and punches, the next executes a rising block, then a strike to the forearm to take down their opponent, a kick to the chin and punch to the head. The opponent dodges backward, throwing their own rising block, followed by a fisthammer to the temple. And so it goes, trading back and forth the moves of the bunkai which have been extracted from the kata. We have five of these sets for our black belt test.

So, getting  a black belt is pretty straightforward but utterly intimidating. Simply, be a superhero. Where did I put my WonderWoman belt anyway?

Focus Shift: Black Belt

The triathlon calendar has come to a close. Even with the inauspicious beginning, starting off with a broken arm, it's been a good triathlon season for me. Three top-5 women's finishes in Sprint and Olympic distance and one top-12 in the half-Ironman distance has made it one of my better seasons. Which is good, because next year I'm not sure if I'll have a season at all. Which is kind of weird to say because Robin with triathlons is kind of like pancakes without syrup: you have to wonder what the heck is it good for at all? Luckily, I frequently eat pancakes without syrup, so I can envision that I might also be able to exist without triathlons in my life for a season. It's also highly unlikely that I won't do any tri's next year. There will most likely be a sprint or two at the very least.

But for many reasons (not the least of them financial), my focus needs to shift. And right now, there's only one direction that what remains of my scattered ability to focus on anything will be. I'm this close to getting my black belt in karate. I'm actually about one broken arm away, since I should already have been able to test for my belt this year, if it wasn't for that fateful dog tripping incident. The arm is now healed about 90% for karate purposes, which means I can do most of the necessary training, with the exception of any serious contact on the left arm. I'm hoping to test in March, with a fall-back to June if that doesn't work out. My son Mackenzie is now a brown belt as well and training seriously for his black, so we can do a lot of training together at home. So I will be shifting to at least four days a week of training at the dojo, and more here in our garage at home. Swimming, biking, and running will take a back seat for the foreseeable future, though I can't really see giving any of those up completely.

I will still be coaching my Master's swimmers, so you can expect to see more swim workouts and swim tips here, but I hope no one will mind if I hang up my lycra in exchange for some white cotton pajama-y things for awhile. I'll be following the rest of you triathlete, swimmer, biker, and runner friends vicariously though!

Meet the New Kickboxing Instructor ..... Um...... Me???

So I was asked to fill in as a sub for the kickboxing instructor at our dojo, and now it seems she is leaving for good and I'm the permanent kickboxing teacher! I love how I keep falling into these kinds of things. I guess the universe is trying to tell me that my future career lies in coaching/teaching.

So far it's been a real learning curve, but lots of fun. It's all heavy bag work, plus I'm incorporating some Crossfit-like metabolic conditioning routines and core work. And like everything you teach, you learn more than the students once you start trying to instruct someone else. I'm looking at different technique and teaching videos and trying to incorporate the best of what I find into the class, keep it challenging and interesting for everyone.

In other martial arts news, my arm is about 90% healed now and I can do almost everything in karate again. So I'll be re-joining the brown/black belt class and start earnestly working toward testing for my black belt again. Mackenzie will be testing for his brown belt in a couple of weeks, which means that he and I can start training together on the black belt test material. I am aiming for a June timeframe to hopefully be prepared to test. I have watched Mackenzie really grow in confidence and ability in karate and it's exciting to see him getting so close too!

Facing the Wall

In karate class today, we worked on a whole bunch of different stuff. Quick memorization of moves and patterns, agility ladder drills, kicking and punching the wall (accuracy!), perfecting kata, and more. After every completed exercise, we each had to return to the same spot and stare at the wall until everyone was done.

What's harder, performing the drills, or standing absolutely still and facing the wall?

How many times in a long race do we figuratively have a wall to face? How many times is it just us and the contents of our mind, trying to still the chatter and perform our best? How deep can you go when you need to?

There were times today when I had to snap myself back to attention when the sensei gave us our next drill. You can get pretty deep in concentration when there's just you and a wall. Try it sometime!

The Plans, They Are A'Changing

It's so hard to step away from a dream once you start down the path to fulfilling it. The longer and the farther you go down that road, the more difficult it is to divert onto another. Yet I know from experience that just because you must take another path right now doesn't mean that you can't revisit your goals in the future. Sometimes it's better to postpone what you once thought was immediate and come back to it when the time is right.

That's the conclusion I've come to this week with my goal to test for my black belt in June. It's just not going to happen. My arm is actually healing up very nicely, but it's nowhere near the point where I can even straighten it without pain, let alone move it in a fast or aggressive manner. And if I even think about someone else touching it, I cringe. So I'm not going to be making it to any of the intense brown belt/black belt classes any time soon, not going to be doing any two-person contact at all, and I don't know how long it will be before I can even throw a proper punch or block.

Although it's probably been painfully obvious to others that this wasn't going to happen, I was stubbornly sticking to the plan for awhile. But now I know it will just have to wait. The upside is that by the time I do test I should be extremely well prepared. Also, my son is excited that perhaps we will test together, since he has a year to go until he would be ready. I don't know yet if it will take me that long or if I'll wait for him and test together or what.

On the plus side of things, I've been able to run now totally pain-free, and even did a semi-long run today of 8 miles without the arm hurting at all. I also swam on Saturday!!!! 1000 yards of swimming and 1000 yards of kicking. The swimming is ridiculous, I look like a wounded albatross flapping my way through the water, but I'm ecstatic that I can do it at all, and it doesn't hurt. I think it will help my arm rehab too, as long as I don't push it.

The Women of Karate

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away.... okay, well in my small hometown in Southern Oregon, I embarked on an on-again, off-again love affair with the martial arts. I started off taking Judo when I was in high school, continued in Judo in college, and then stopped for several years. In 1991, I took up Goju-Ryu karate, but was sidelined by a skiing injury that pretty much halted my involvement for 15 years. Through several dojos, several senseis, and several styles of martial arts though, one thing remained a constant: very few women. There was one woman in my first Judo dojo, none in my college classes, and one in my karate class. For the most part, I trained in the company of men. I never had a female sensei, nor saw a female black belt in person.

So when another homeschooling mom recommended the dojo at ESK, I was so surprised to see it was... full of women! The owners are a husband-wife pair of senseis, many of the other senseis are women, and the dojo is full of females, from the littlest tykes to a host of teenagers, to other moms like me. 70% of the black belts are female! Let me repeat that statistic again. 70% of the black belts are female. Coming from never seeing a female black belt to that, well that's inspiring.

Originally, I started taking karate there because I really wanted to encourage my son in the sport. I had an inkling that this non-team-sports kid would really thrive in something individual and mentally focused like karate, but I knew I had to find exactly the right kind of place, one that blended discipline with grace and kindness, hard work with a patient guidance. At the time, I wasn't thinking that much about my daughter, as she tends to already be involved in a ton of activities, many of them very physical. But soon I came to see what our dojo offered to her in terms of not just the practice of karate but the role models she was surrounded with. I really count my blessings on so many levels that our family found this dojo.

So this week, our local newspaper profiled our karate dojo in their special women's supplement, and the article focuses on the girls, teenagers, and women of the dojo.

Crouching Girls, Hidden Warriors

Check it out! Both Asa and I are in the group photo, which believe it or not only represents about half of the 100+ girls in the dojo!

Not Designed With a Mom in Mind

I'll just have to say that whoever invented the karategi (or traditional white karate uniform) was probably not a mom. Sure, they have some mom-approved advantages. They're unisex so they can be handed down among siblings whether male or female and loose enough that growing kids don't require a new gi every year. However, white? C'mon, who thought that up? No mom would ask their kids to tussle around in something white and expect it to stay that color for two seconds. And one has to wonder whether the white color was specifically designed to keep women out of karate, or if that was an accidental side-effect of the color choice. Let's just say that there are many times when I really don't appreciate jumping around in all-white, and neither do the rest of my female friends in class.

If I ever get to the point where I can choose what I wear, I think it will be more along these lines! Some senseis wear black pants at the least, and that looks pretty appealing from where I stand. The best thing about gis though is there utter lack of any kind of commercialisation. In a sports world dominated by Nike Swooshes and Ironman M-Dots, the simplicity of the karate gi is refreshing. Until now that is...


Can you believe this? Adidas figured out a tacky way to introduce their three stripes onto the gi shoulders. I can hardly wait for the swoosh version to come out. For some reason, this just bugs the crap outta me, have they no shame?? Obviously not, or they wouldn't have put that much hair shellack on their models. You could break boards over those hairdos!

But in finding those photos, I did unearth this little gem: an article by Chuck Norris, Elvis, Priscilla, martial arts and me about teaching Prisciila Presley and meeting Elvis, who was a lifelong martial arts student who had been awarded a 7th degree black belt. And now it's time to try to scrub the muddy dog-paw stains off the back of my gi pants in time for class tomorrow.