Sport Jujitsu

Like many artist on the martial path, there are loads of things that I don't know about. Sport Jujitsu is definitely one of those things, so I went to a seminar Sunday hosted by former Sport Jujitsu World Heavy Weight champion Linda Ramzy Ranson of the Women's Empowerment Self Defense Academy in the Bronx to find out about what it is and how to judge during tournaments. According to the International Sport Jujitsu Association, Sport Jujitsu:

...consists of five major elements; Ukemi waza (break falling technique), Nage waza (throwing technique), Katame waza (grappling technique), Atemi waza (striking technique) and Katsu waza (revival technique). Therefore a competition that consists of only strikes without grappling is not true sport jujitsu because it is missing a very important element of jujitsu (grappling) which makes it more like a point karate tournament. Also a tournament which consists of only grappling and no striking cannot legitimately be called sport jujitsu because it too is missing a very important element of jujitsu. Without strikes it is only a grappling tournament or often called submission wrestling. A true sport jujitsu tournament represents the art’s totality and consists of all the physical elements.

- sort of like MMA without the ground and pound or knee/elbow strikes. Points are awarded as follows: 1 point for a hand or foot strike to the body 2 points for a controlled kick to the head 2 points for a half throw (where one foot leaves the mat) 3 points for a full throw (both feet leave the mat) 2 points for maintaining a controlled mount for three seconds 4 points for a referee intervention submission (under-belt divisions only) Automatic win by tap out submission (black belt divisions only) Strikes to the nose, eyes, groin, spine or against a joint are not allowed. Neither are finger locks, head butts or leg kicks. The competitions begin much like karate kumite where opponents start standing up and facing each other. The difference is that grappling is as much a part of the game as front kicks and reverse punches are. All the action eventually ends up on the ground. 30 seconds of grappling time is allowed once competitors get there. In the two 2-minute rounds of the competition, if the competitors don't make progress (for example, guards are stalled and no submissions seem eminent), the center judge orders them to their feet. The fight, however is constantly live. In other words, there is no reset that allows everyone time to adjust their gis and gear or get back to the center of the ring. They stand where they are and must be on guard for punches, kicks and sweeps even while returning to an upright position. Competitors are allowed a coach and get 30-second rest between each round. This explains it better than I can: 

                         

 Interestingly enough, while hand, mouth, foot and groin protection is worn, black belts do not wear head gear. And the under belts that did had their helmets pulled off during the match anyway. It is intense as all get out, but looked fun as anything. I might give it a go, you never know :-)

(Martial) Art Imitating Life

Whenever a person who is brand-spanking new to martial arts comes into the dojo and we start with the basic hand and foot positions, I am the first one to encourage them to scream - loud, often and like a banshee - because their lives could someday depend on it. Especially with children, I let them know that an evil-doer trying to get them to go "away" by force wants them to remain as quiet as possible. Never let them stun you into silence because using your voice is a way of fighting back.

More often than not, that first kiai they let out is accompanied by giggles and blushes - embarrassment if you will - because they may have never done anything like it before without someone telling them to shhhh! or tone it down a little. But using your voice is so much a part of self-defense and the newbies need to know that. So I illustrate it with a nice, long and extremely loud spirit yell. Then I explain that being encouraged to scream my head off is one of my most favorite parts of karate (hitting things is the other, but I don't share that with them so early in the game :-). There's nothing wrong with expecting your scream to raise the roof and have people next door wondering what the heck the noise was all about, I tell them. That's totally the point!

Now that the confrontation I experienced last week outside the dojo ended in my being suspended from my job, I kind of just want to move on and put it all in my rear-view mirror. Yes, it was handled very badly on the part of the agency I work for and yes, although I did what I was supposed to do to avoid physical conflict, I am still the one sitting home this morning. True, I no longer have any desire to work for an agency that puts money over employee safety (when confronted about his behavior, Angry Dad threatened to take his children out of the program; to keep the income stream coming, the agency decided to move me to a before-school program location that was further away which I can't do, so I'm out until a closer spot opens up), but somehow, it just doesn't feel right to just giggle and blush. I think I have to use my voice.

This situation really transcends my personal safety; it's also about the well-being of the next employee that has to deal with the same irate morning program parent or any one who thinks yelling, cursing or blocking a path of escape is totally acceptable way to deal with life. In other words, it's not just about this woman, but about all women; not just about this person who was bullied, but about all people who are; not just about the ugliness directed at me, but about the nastiness directed at anyone. So, in addition to the police report I've filed, I'll be figuratively screaming at a few someones today - because I can and because I should. Letting this get swept under the carpet would be totally contrary to everything I try to teach my students and to what my instructors have tried to teach me. The agency may want to be reactionary by waiting until Angry Dad does something again before removing him from the program, but that doesn't mean that I have to be.

There's an adage that that says if one is not part of the solution then he/she is part of the problem. Even if I'm not successful at getting this ticking time bomb away from the next person, I definitely won't be if I don't try.

That piercing noise you hear? Yep, that'd be me...

Moment of Truth

For the record I've only ever had one physical confrontation in my life (in second grade and a girl named Terry Daniels got upset with me for some reason or another; she puled my hair so hard it made me cry, so I yanked hers back, made her cry and that was the end of it). That was all before this morning.

Because my son's college tuition deposit to whichever institution of higher education he chooses will be due in four short months, I've taken a few side gigs to help squirrel away a couple of extra dollars to pad the 529 account that took a bit of a hit when the economy dipped. My morning job is a before-school program for parents whose work hours start before their children's school days do. For two hours each weekday, I play board games, draw and read to/with a few kids before their school days begins. Our time together ends when I drive them from the activity center we meet in to their bus stop.

This morning, my own son missed his school bus. Dropping him off at the high school made me 10 minutes late getting to the activity center. When I arrived, a very angry parent who almost never drops his kids off was waiting. The two kids - ages 8 and 5 - were just inside the door while dad was outside with a cell phone stuck to his ear. I pulled up to the door and waved to him before lowering my window and apologizing for being late. Before I could even tell him why, he started screaming at me, called me a bitch and told me that since he paid a lot of effin' money for the program - and hence, paid my salary - I should effin' get there on time. He then walked over to my car, stuck his finger in my driver's side window to wave it in my face and continue to berate me for jacking up his day - all while his children watched from about 10 feet away.

This past Christmas, Sensei S. bought everyone in the dojo metal kubatons. We've had a class or two on using them and since they came attached to a sturdy key ring, I keep mine on clipped to my house and car keys. After psychotic dad called me a bitch the second time, I have to tell you the thought of sliding the kubaton off my key ring and shoving it right into his windpipe most definitely crossed my mind - but instead of acting on that, I asked him if he would please move away so I could back my car into a parking space. He refused and actually moved to the back door of the vehicle, stuck his foot under my rear tire and dared me to move. Yeah - exactly...

It occurred to me that I had three choices at that point: run over his foot, get out of the car to try out an ippon combo I learned last night or chill and figure out how to get this idiot away from me as fast as possible. I put my window up, locked my car doors and reached for my phone. Calling the police was my plan, but, probably thinking I was either calling 911 or getting out of my car to move him out of the way, he motioned to his children, got in his car and drove off. I was so upset, I was literally shaking.

After I calmed down and called my boss to let her know what happened, I contacted Sensei S. and told him that I almost had to make use of his Christmas gift today. Once he assured me that I did the right thing by avoiding a conflict, he reminded me that yoking an unarmed (albeit angry) man with a weapon would probably net a legal issue. Like me, dad had choices - and he chose to walk away. Had he taken a different route, I would have been prepared, Sensei said, to defend myself.

The adage that there is no "first strike" in karate rings in my head now and I know Sensei is right, but I hafta tell you that I felt very vulnerable sitting there waiting for him to either stop the foolishness or make a definitive move. I did feel threatened, but there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

But there's something else I felt, too: how easy it is for a "situation" to spiral out of control. Everything happened so fast! If he would have reached into the car to grab, hit or even spit on me, I would have had a reason to do something. But because he didn't, I couldn't.

A non-martial artist friend commended me on taking what he called the high road. "You're a better person than I am, because I would have hit him as soon as he stuck his body too close to mine," he said. I'd probably be explaining all this at the town police station right now if I'd done that, I bet. The reality is that I had no control over how the angry person would act. I guess all I an ever do have control over is how I react to it.

What would you have done?

Kata: Best/Worst of Times

I try to do the kata flow drill every morning. Some days, it's as effortless as breathing. Other days, It.Just.Isn't. But I do it anyway - and most mornings, I enjoy it. Yesterday morning's kata flow ended on a high note - a "best of" time. Unfortunately, the day before was an absolute mess.

I admit that I don't always "see the opponent" when I'm doing the drill. The purpose of the flow drill is to NOT worry about cadence or tenacity and just do the form at one tempo without emphasis on the power/speed of any particular strike, kick or block. Trouble is that when it's time to present the kata in real time, I sometimes forget to put that cadence and tenacity back in there. Oops...

Lately, Tuesday nights have been dubbed "Thinking Nights" at my dojo. After we get our warmup sweat on, Sensei picks a kata or two for us to tear apart. Bunkai, strike/block placement and even little things like where your body needs to be in order to end where you started are discussed. There are always A-Ha! moments to be discovered. Next, we present a kata of our choice to the class - a formal presentation - just like we would before judges at a tournament.

Lately, I've tried hard to stay away from the katas we dissected when it's been my turn to present, because I know need a little time to practice and refine it lest the "other way" creep in. And lately, I've flubbed every single presentation. I'm talking forgetting opening moves, losing my balance, ending no where near where I began - the whole nine. I'm not sure if having the group critique after the presentation or if knowing that Sensei S and Sensei J are watching with the visual equivalent of a fine-tooth comb that's giving me performance anxiety, but clearly SOMETHING is. This week, I butchered Empi Ha, a kata I learned about three years ago as a second kyu. It was clearly a "worst of" time for me and my form.

Perhaps I'm taking the idea of emptying my cup - or emptying my mind, even - too literally. It's like the template that has all the instructions switches itself off right when I need it most. And no, I do not have this issue when I am competing. Still trying to figure out why the circuits get so log-jammed when I'm amongst friends but not when I'm doing the same thing in front of total strangers.

During my track and field days, I'd occasionally have the same issue. There were some days I couldn't get off the ground with anything resembling technique to save my life - especially if we jumped for height in the same way a competition progressed. My coach used to call it "Non-Performance Anxiety" - meaning that because I wasn't in uniform, wasn't jumping against a field of other competitors and didn't have the total adrenaline rush that always came on the day of a big competition, my mind knew it wasn't "real" and acted accordingly. To get over that, he'd sometimes have me practice in my uniform or go through my warm-up routine the same way I would on competition day. It helped. But there isn't really a karate equivalent for that - as I'm always in uniform (gi) and on any given day, either/both Sensei S and Sensei J could be my judges in competition.

I was talking it over with one of my training partners and I clearly recall saying that the walk from the wall where everyone sat to the center of the room to present the kata was like "going through hell." Her response? "Well, they say when you are going through hell, you should just keep going."

"'The best 'gains' are made when there is no flow. 'Ughs' help us refine and improve," another martial artist told me. "Keep on kata-ing."

Advice I plan on taking. I'm glad they offered :-)

Getting by with a little help from my friends...

Miles to Go...

Yesterday we packed up the vehicles and headed down to NYC for a free tournament. Yep, you read that correctly - a FREE tournament. Over 450 competitors (compared to the 300 or so that attended last year), so training partner Ed and I thought it would be an inexpensive way for our students to get some kata presentation and kumite experience in.

Going in, we told them all that although trophies and accolades are nice, they weren't the goal of competing. It takes a lot of courage to step into the ring - as anyone who's ever done it before can tell you - so as long as they did their absolute best and kept their chi and fighting spirits high, all would be good. They did that and more.

With so many rings, it was hard to keep track of everyone, but they competed well. They stepped in, did their thing and learned a lot in the process, which is a very good thing. Two of our girls - both 14-yr-old 7th kyus - took home first and third places in kumite (which was good as they didn't have to spar each other) and a second place in kata. Both of them got shiners from the same competitor, but they didn't grumble or complain when the young lady's hit was not given a warning as it should have. Way to fight like girls, ladies!

Still, with all those competitors, there were only two of us competing in kata in the "old lady" division (female black belts 35 and over) - myself and training partner, Peg. An amazing karateka, she, like me, started karate at an age when most are toning down their physical pursuits. Extremely talented, she trains hard - and it shows in everything she does on the mat. I admire her a great deal, so, it was kinda tough to get my head set to compete against her. But I followed her Empi Ha with Senchin and, much to my surprise, we tied - although her scores were more consistent than mine (the one judge that gave me a 7 was the one that saw me hit myself in the lip on the opening move because he was the one I was facing; the other 2 gave me 9s). Once the low and high scores were dropped, I won by a mere half point. I felt like a fraud.

Honestly, Peg's kata was better than mine yesterday. I was nervous and, because I'd spent most of the day sitting down judging the underbelts, I hadn't warmed up nearly as well as I wanted to/usually do, so my footwork felt a teeny bit off. I don't feel I was the better competitor that day and was very embarrassed by the four-foot trophy they presented me with. I swear, I really wanted to just disappear under the floor, I really did.

But because I won, I was allowed to compete in the kata grand championship against the winners in the other three black belt divisions. I knew I had the least experience going in and stood almost no chance of winning, but I did it anyway. And, to challenge myself even more, I did a kata I'd never done in competition before: Hangetsu, which I usually reserve as a back-up in the event of a tie. I felt too big and too conspicuous with my 6'2" self in that ring, the lone Amazon in the black gi. It didn't go terribly, but it wasn't my best presentation, either. Truthfully, I felt a little embarrassed when it was all over because it wasn't as good as the others.

But you know what? That's sooo not the point of karate for me. I train to gain knowledge and improve over MY best, not everyone else's. Sure some days are better than others, but that's life sometimes. It just reminds me that there are more than a few miles to go yet on this path - and as many bumps and hurdles to overcome in the process. But it's the journey, not the destination that is important, and I've got nothing but time.

So why compete in the first place? Truthfully, I really only wanted to spar - because it is as close as I ever hope to come to a real, live "put up your dukes" combat situation. Kata competition for me is about learning to recognize and practice the art of my martial art. The grace is not something that is innate to me, so I take competition as an opportunity to push my learning envelope a little. Plus it's fun and I enjoy it.

And getting a good smack down every now and again keeps the ego in check, I think - and I am one very humble creature this morning, that's for sure.

Too Much Information

OK - pet peeve time. For me, it's sloppy gis during training. I'm not talking about the gi jacket that gets disheveled after you're tossed across the floor like a rag doll, but untucked shirts that dangle below gi tops and belts that are gapped or twisted in the back way before the warmup even begins bother me to no end. But you know what gets me the most? Undergarments that peek out between the splits in traditional-tie bottoms. Ack!!

It seems a shame to step on the mat with trimmed nails and a freshly washed gi only to have your underwear announce to the world that they are ready to work well before you've even produced a bead of sweat. Sorry, but that is totally gross. Cover that up already!

Seriously, if someone else can see the waist band of your BVDs or knows what color thong you have on, that's definitely TMI. There's a reason it's called UNDERwear.

Granted, some folks might not know their...ummm...business is "in the streets" - so if you have a training partner who's flashing a little more than their devistating technique in class and you don't wish to embarrass him or her, point them a pair of shorts, a needle and thread or any MA website that sells elastic-waist or slit-less drawstring gi pants. Friends don't let friends train with their undies showing, IMHO.

OK - rant over. Thanks for indulging me...

"E Squad" Adventures

There are six women in my dojo. Two are busy with school and aren't actively training right now, so it isn't often that we out-number the men on a given evening. Last Thursday night's class - when only the four females gi'd up to train - was a rare exception.

Sensei S, the only male in the building, started us off by moving the class into the mat room to work on break falls and rolls. You'd think with three shodans and an ikkyu, we'd have been talking about things like the importance of protecting the head or where to look during the roll. Instead, we questioned whether our female hips were actually going to go where we wanted them to as effortlessly as Sensei's did when he demonstrated what we'd be working on. It's obvious that we women are built differently than the men we train with, but with only "us girls" in the room (Sensei was out-estrogened, hee-hee), we could discuss with each other on the sidelines what we usually say to ourselves in the privacy of our own heads. And on occasion, those conversations were overheard by whomever was on the mat working the technique with Sensei, making her dissolve into a giggling puddle. Not that our all estrogen class was any less structured or formal than normal, but every now and again, one of us would relax too much while being guided into a throw/roll or launch ourselves too high to get some assisting momentum behind us and end up plopping loudly onto the mat. And no explanation was necessary because the rest of us understood what that momentary "This is gonna be difficult because my butt is just too big" pause was about.

This post is not a plug for an all-girl training environment - although I've often wondered what receiving instruction from and learning with nothing but women would be like. I rather like training with the "Y" chromosome set because they push me when sparring and challenge me to think on my feet. But sometimes, it's OK to hang out with the girls, though. There's something unique about that unspoken understanding when your training partner has a mental block and can't even attempt a technique because of a simple fear of how or where she'll land. No one assumes she's weak or that her reaction is indicative of how all women will react in a similar situation. We know that it is her "something" without having to discuss it or explain it at all - because everybody's got theirs. It is what it is.

In the aikido class I started training in about a month ago, I've been present a few times when Sensei M. has led the class. A fourth dan with a booming voice and a curly ponytail that whips around when she's giving instruction or being tossed around during the training sessions, I met her when I surprised her in the changing room before my first class. Use to being the only woman in the place, knocking before entering the ladies area wasn't something she was accustomed to doing, she said. We both got quite a kick out of that.

In karate, I occasionally train with another Sensei M. Busy competing internationally and teaching Krav Maga as well as USA Goju, she thoroughly kicks our butts cardio-vascularly during class. She's an amazing practitioner and instructor who is always willing to pass along what she's learned to others. But still I remember a fourth dan spar her once like she stole his wallet when she was only a nidan - all because she swept him to the ground while sparring the week before. He hit her so hard that he knocked out her contact lens, which I remember crawling around on the floor trying to find with her after class. Ugly, ego-driven and unnecessary, it was what it was - and I won't train anywhere near that yondan today as a result. I can't see that happening with other women, though. Not that it couldn't, just probably wouldn't.

Three cheers for the E Squad :-)