Put your back into it

Last night I was fencing for the first time for a few weeks and in the middle of a bout found myself arching back to avoid an attack in the same way Neo did to avoid the Agent's bullets in The Matrix. I think the aching back I have this morning is my bodies way of telling me to parry more often and stop being so dramatic! There's a lesson in there somewhere....

I am not an adrenalin junkie

I recently had a weeks holiday in the Peak District where aside from a bit of hill walking and stately home visiting my Wife and I visited Alton Towers, famed for it's fast rides and attractions. We had a go on a couple of high speed, high-g rides but I soon found that I had had enough of thrills and spills so didn't go on the more obvious high adrenalin rides that dominate the park. (I actually preferred the peace and quiet of the ornate gardens)! Two or three rollercoasters are enough for me! I was mentioning this to someone in the office and they found it strange that I wasn't into adrenalin as I "do a sport that's all about swords and stabbing people", something that they associated with nerve jangling action. I could see their point in a way and looking back used to consider fencing as a high adrenalin activity, particularly competition fencing. Now I have a somewhat different view.
Whilst it cannot be denied that a sport that simulates combat is bound to generate some adrenalin, I believe that too much can be a liability. When I was younger I used to go out on the piste and get really psyched up, my pulse racing, my emotions running free in shouts, yells and grimaces. Sometimes this level of adrenalisation was helpful but more often than not it actually negatively affected my ability. My hand would tremble so much that my point control was rubbish, my muscles would grow tense and unresponsive and my temper would burst forth in the most innappropriate way. In short, I was the sort of fencer that I roundly criticise on this blog! There are so many ways that this was all wrong, not least the fact that I could be quite insufferable if I lost, On a physiological level adrenalin releases a lot of energy, but it is all short term energy and soon drops away leaving a state of fatigue, something that is less than desirable in a 15 hit DE bout. Adrenalin can also cause a feeling of panic (it is the progenitor of the 'fight or flight' reaction) which is not much use to a fencer. Large amounts of this stuff banging around your system is not necessarily what you want if you wish to remain in control.
Conversely, when you fence you want to have some energy in your tank, but I would suggest this needs to be controlled agression or alertness and in general the calmer you are, the more effective your techniques. High adrenalin leads to wide, wild parries, attacks that are uncontrolled and ineffective and general sloppiness on the piste. Controlled agression allows you to remain calm when attacked and decisive when attacking. It also allows you to discern flaws and weaknesses in your opponent.
My old role model Musashi says this on the state of mind in martial arts."In the science of martial arts, the state of mind should remain the same as normal. In ordinary circumstances as well as when practicing martial arts, let there be no change at all - with the mind open and direct, neither tense nor lax, centering the mind so that there is no imbalance, calmly relax your mind and savor this momoent of ease thouroughly so the relaxation does not stop its relaxation for even an instant."
Now, you can argue that I am just trying to justify that I'm not getting old when I say I'd rather look at an ornamental garden landscape than the blurred view from a rollercoaster but that's up to you!

Quote of the Week

"What's your weapon of choice? What's your weapon of choice? What's your weapon to free your soul?"

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

The Person At The Gate

There is a Japanese term used in martial arts to describe a new student, someone who is just beginning in their interest. The term is monjin and the two characters used to write the term translate as 'person at the gate'. I like this term as I think it is quite evocative of the feeling one experiences when one starts any new activity, particularly an activity that puts you in new surroundings. Sometimes when I am talking to people the subject of sports and hobbies comes up. When I mention that I am a fencing instructor one of the most common questions (apart from jokes about fences) is "How did you get into that then?" I usually reply with "A chap at work was doing it and I asked if I could have a go. Seemed like an interesting idea at the time." This is essentially how I started out; a chance conversation one lunchtime with a work colleague who has long given up the sport. But is there anything more to it than that? Looking back, I seem to have always been interested in the more old fashioned and romantic side of the world of swordplay and knights of old etc. It's also fair to say I never really enjoyed playing any of the conventional sports at school so when the slightly eccentric and traditional sport of fencing hove into view I thought I'd give it a go. If someone had said I'd still be doing it nearly twenty years later and would be a qualified coach I would probably have been a bit sceptical. Let alone that I'd be writing down and sharing my (somewhat unconventional) thoughts with a (slightly) wider audience! Nevertheless, something about fencing got hold of me and never let go. Obviously I have my own coach to thank for that in the sense that he gave me plenty of encouragement and became a friend as well as a coach but it also just seemed to suit me. I liked the etiquette, the physical and later the mental challenges that the sport creates and over recent years have enjoyed sharing my enthusiasm with others. But I also like the fact that fencing isn't mainstream and is different. It's nice to be associated with something that has a little mystique about it.
I can explain my interest in the Japanese arts, philosophy and the Samurai a little easier. Many years ago when I was a wee nipper (well about 10 years old) my parents took me on a holiday visit to a house called Snowshill Manor which is owned by the National Trust. I don't remember much about it apart from one room, dimly lit, which contained a collection of Japanese Samurai armour and weapons. The striking thing about the armour was that it was arranged as if people were wearing it, some sitting on folding military stools, some stood in the shadows. Those of you familiar with Samurai armour will know that the helmets often have face plates shaped like a real face and the sight of these ghostly figures with their swords, banner and flags got me hooked. From there on in I have always had a fascination for the Samurai and this lead onto wider interests such as Martial Arts, Zen, Calligraphy and many other incidental surprises along the way. So that one small visit as a child shaped the way I am today. It's the small things that do it. But I digress....
Over the years I have seen many people take up fencing and probably only 10% of them actually continue it for more than a couple of years, particularly adult students. A lot of them buy all the kit and then simply disappear one week never to return. I'm pleased to say that I now have a group of regular students that I can rely upon to keep turning up to endure my lessons; students who I have known for a few years now. But I sometimes wonder, what is it that keeps them coming back? I know it's not my jokes and I'm not big headed enough to accept that it's the brilliance of my teaching! I suspect it's some strange affinity we share for the strange activity known as fencing and the fact that we all passed through the gate at some stage and for some reason. It's this affinity that keep us coming back when we have a headache, after a hard day in the office, college or school and when progress is slow..... Long may it continue!

It's not life and death

Why do fencers hesitate and fail to complete their attack? Is it lack of confidence? Lack of skill? Lack of belief? Whatever it is, it is quite a common sight to see a fencer commence a perfectly valid attack, usually involving a lunge and then pull back at the last minute and fail to score. Luckily, modern fencing isn't real combat these days so failure tends not to be lethal any more!
A lot of the time it seems to me that the fencer simply doesn't believe that they are capable of scoring the hit and therefore they hesitate and ultimately fail in their goal. I think this may be a cultural condition of modern education methods where everybody ends up being graded, sorted, examined and categorised according to one thing; results. There is a tremendous psychological pressure to succeed, particularly amongst young fencers. The great thing about fencing being a sport rather than real combat is that you can afford to fail. The consequences aren't too dire (apart from a slightly disgruntled coach) so why not just open up and try something different, it's not a matter of life and death after all....

Quote of the Week

At the instant
A warrior
Confronts a foe,
All things
Come into focus

Morihei Ushiba - founder of the art of Aikido

The Embu-jo

In Japanese Dojo, or martial arts training halls the centre of the room is reserved for training and sparring. This tends to be reflected in most fencing clubs I've been in; individual and group lessons take place around the edges of the area reserved for the pistes. However, as with most things Japanese there is more than meets the eye. The central space is known as the embu-jo. jo translates as 'place', bu translates as 'martial' and em means 'to act'. So essentially this space is where it all gets serious and the place where the utmost respect is shown to your opponent and to the skills you are practicing. It is a place where there is no theory and only action. It is not a place for talking.
The reason I bring this up is that the other night I was in the salle and was observing a fight between an older experienced member of the club and a more junior member. The fight was being presided by one of my students and the older fencer was constantly challenging decisions, claiming the right of way and generally trying all sorts of psychological tricks to put the president under more pressure. Add to the situation that the fight was non-electric and it was all quite tricky for the president. Now I know my older colleague would claim that his actions were mostly in jest but the facts of the matter are it was a bit too much and not really appropriate for a senior club member. Nonetheless, the president did a splendid job under provocation. So, on the face of it am I only complaining about some behaviour I thought was slightly off colour? Am I simply being protective of a student of mine? Let's consider deeper. The piste is a place where actions count louder than words. By his behaviour my colleague was only achieving the opposite of his intention. The more he protested the more irate he got when he didn't get his way. It's also possible you could negatively influence a president against you although I am confident this wasn't the case last night. Also, and possibly most importantly, by emphasising the mind games my colleague was simply missing the point. His attacks were not suitable for non-electric fencing in that they were too complex and difficult to spot and also that as a dual foil and epee fencer he had sometimes completely fogotten the concept of the right of way! Perhaps more action and less vocalisation would have been a better use of the embu-jo!