Adam’s Cerebral Spillage

...and it is there, only there that you shall find the master

It really doesn’t matter how long I’ve trained for, I permanently feel like I’m only just getting to grips with a lot of things.  Last week we worked one of my favourite combinations;  san dan tollyo chagi > san dan dwi huri chagi (high section roundhouse to high section spin hook kick), and doing that against a slap paddle is enormously satisfying when you feel the heel whip through. Right-sided was fine, I’m quite obtuse in as much as I prefer left footed spin hooks, which is unusual for a righty. Left side though was a nightmare, the roundhouse coming out 6 inches lower than they should with enormous tight pain across the front of my pelvis. Something’s not right here I thought, and over the course of the next few kicks I started trying to analyse what I was doing wrong.

I’ve always trained for myself, to make myself better. Being a big guy I was never in any illusion of being 6 feet in the air with a perfect box splits kick, or side kicking vertically, so right from the off I’ve never been too… competitive. I’m naturally a very competitive person, and it’s not a trait I’m always very proud of, but I temper it back significantly during training. I think it can be good in a way, but only when it’s either asked of us (endurance and speed exercises), or when you’re competing against yourself. Some people seem to try to compete at just about everything, and the times when I see it most I notice how detrimental it is to progression. It’s not even when you might expect it, like sparring for example (where it obviously does belong to an extent), but something as silly as stretching. I’ve seen people trying to be the furthest turning during spinal stretches, the longest in a splits stretch etc., but all of that negates the point of a good stretch.

I think the problem comes mostly with advancing rank when it does happen, which is ironic as we should be showing more kyum son (humilty) as we progress. It’s almost as if some feel the need to prove their rank, and more often than not it seems to lead to bad technique if nothing else. I’ve been guilty of it in the past I know, but I make a concerted effort to keep my head in the moment now.

The reason for my apparent tangent above is because the situation I found myself in on that Friday could well have led me to making my technique sloppy just to try and touch the target and avoid some pushups, and I hate it when hook kicks get sloppy, as they turn into ugly looking crescents. Instead I just made a concerted effort to look at what I was doing and see what I could do to fix it. In this case I was holding my hips back, under-rotating, and not leaning back on it far enough. I didn’t fix it, but I at least managed to get a few kicks out without hurting myself or looking like a praying mantis with an inner ear infection.

I still find it amazing that even now, over four-and-a-half years after I started learning, I still have to look at how I throw a roundhouse kick and make big changes. And it’s not just with roundhouses either, I could write a list of things which need improvement but I’d be here all day. If I could give anyone any advice to help them make the most of their training, it would be to swallow their pride and look at themselves, not the people around them. I’ve been training for such a short time relatively, so this will probably sound very up myself with an over-inflated sense of self-importance, and I feel a bit stupid writing it if I’m totally honest, but this is my place so there you go .

(and I managed to get a very tenuous link to The Last Dragon in there too!)

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