Roll with it, baby!

Tonight's class started awkwardly for me -- a last minute trip to the toilet at 6:59pm (I had to pee!) ensured I missed the opening Amituofos. I washed my hands and dashed out quickly to get in line only to experience a moment of fear -- Han started off class with somersaults galore. Ever since tweaking my shoulder sometime last summer, I've been loathe to do anything that might injure my shoulder further. But with the rushed start, I didn't have much time to deliberate. I knew I didn't want to begin by chickening out and going to the side, so I went for it. I rolled and rolled and rolled myself into dizziness. Wheeeeeeee! It was kinda exhilarating, doing one after another down the carpet. We kept doing different versions of somersaults, and I kept pushing myself, and by the end (or at least until we started the next basic), I was delighted.

We maintained a good pace throughout class, doing all kinds of combos that Han seems to favor. Then she threw the pork chop pads at us and told us to partner up. Everyone quickly formed pairs, leaving me and Jian as the last couple. I have to admit, I then experienced my second moment of fear that evening. Well, maybe not fear, but definitely hesitation. I instantly recalled one time when some of us dorks decided to go on an outing to a fencing school, and being paired up with him and getting clobbered! If you don't know Jian, he is built like an ox in stature and sometimes in temperament in that he will persist and not let up. =)

So, Jian held the pad first and we had to futotui our way down the carpet. He proved to be a most excellent partner despite the height differential, encouraging me and giving me helpful pointers all the way. He coaxed me into audibly injecting chi with every kick, and I went with it, yelling and kicking hard. It too was great fun, especially hearing the others call my name. Thanks so much, Jian, for your chi!

Sometimes, you have to just shrug off your inhibitions and Roll with it, baby!

Times are Changin'

Training on Sunday was weird and wild. We started class 10 minutes late. (I can't remember the last time we started class that late) There were only 14 of us and I was the most senior person on the roster. In fact, I was the only person that was there from Level 2. I remember starting my training at the temple not so long ago and looking up to the Level 2's for technique and chi. And one of the newer people (I'm so embarrassed. I don't even know his name) pointed out to me that I am that person now. Not only was class small, there were also a group of Chinese people observing class. I don't know about you, but for me, any chance to perform in front of a group pumps up my chi. :P

I have to say, I was flying down the line. The newer level ones were definitely not used to being so near the front of the line. They weren't even quite sure what move was next. Should I have slowed down more and given them more of a chance to catch up? I am not sure. The person leading needs to set the pace and tone. It's also up to them to set the chi. Every time I went down the line, I could hear the Chinese group point and whisper, "Oh, that is this move, and this is that move."

Maybe Shifu heard it too because he was really paying very close attention to everyone's form and technique. Most people didn't make it out of the first half of the class before being sent to KFK (Kung Fu Kindergarten). Shifu had us do the first form at least 10 times. That's including all the times he told us to start over from the beginning. By the end of the first half, only me, Livia, and Julian were left.

Second half of class? Well, let's just say we got our own little piece of carpet and stayed on it for the rest of the class. It was really fun to push myself. But, in my unsettled heart, I wanted to start teaching. I wanted Shifu to call me over and say, "Leo, teach them Caijiao!" Now, I know Shifu picks people to teach for a reason and he hasn't picked me yet. It's probably because he feels I need to work on my forms and technique much more before I'm ready. Every time I'm in Level 2, I feel like my technique is one of the worst. I would say to myself, "How is it possible that I can't do this one kick that I've been doing for over a year?! What's wrong with me? Am I just not cut out for Shaolin material?" Then I realize that as with everything, caijiao is a kick we could work on forever because we could keep on polishing ourselves forever. It never ends. We could always use more pop and extension in our lives. I know Shifu wants to teach me this. And I feel that I still haven't learned it yet...but times are definitely changin'...

Great Expectations

In spite of Al Roker's predictions to the contrary, I did not think yesterday's weather was as stuffily, scorchingly hot as Sunday. That, combined with taking class in the evening, I thought must lead me to predict a training session less fraught with sweat and heatstroke than the day before. And since Sunday I had a pretty good time in spite of all that, I anticipated a Monday class that was hot, but not unbearable.

After the first half hour I was looking for a place to be privately and violently ill. My final jumping spinning lihetui almost left me on the floor I was so dizzy. If Han had told us to do liyu dating I would have gladly jumped out the window rather than the inevitable throwing-up on the carpet that would have occurred. By the time we hit forms, which we did for an hour - unheard of lately in L2, I was so totally drenched in sweat I was Shaolin Showering everyone in the most unpardonable fashion. There wasn't a single dry spot left on my uniform, my hands were all pruned from being so sweaty. As a result I was uncontrollably chugging water even though I knew it would add to the gurgly feeling in my stomach. I was totally disgusted with myself, literally and figuratively.

Was everyone else feeling this pain? Clearly everyone was hot, but the 12 other people in class were trucking admirably along whilst I wallowed in self-pity. Probably I was suffering under the shattering of my built-up expectations that class wouldn't be so awfully hard. It's summer, best get used to it. Just goes to show you shouldn't ever expect anything; just go train. And if you need to throw up, well, we have two bathrooms for that.

Short end of the sock

A while back my socks stopped fitting, or my shoes stopped fitting. Whatever the actual cause I found that my feiyues suddenly rose higher on my ankle than my sock resulting in a discomfortable irritation that evolved into a straight-up injury. Oddly, only on my left foot. Weird. So I started buying taller socks. However I still own about twice as many of my earlier brand and so often have settled for them when laundry is due. Tonight was that night and I was not half-way through my lunbi caijiaos before my left shoe had rubbed my heel raw. It was not going to be a good night.

I came to class with low chi and even coffee did nothing to get my engine running. And my attempts at head flips were even worse than usual. So when my shoe started acting up I was ready to write off anything better than struggling through the first hour so I could get to the changing room and put on the socks I wore at work. (tall and wool, not the most ideal for training, but at least they covered my ankle) As it turned out, I guess I didn't look as bad as I felt, or my ankle distracted me from over thinking my movements, because Khalid, who was teaching, asked me to demonstrate not one but TWO moves during basics. And it was two moves I never felt particularly good at, but I guess my mechanics at least were on point. While the rest of class was still pretty rocky, I used that confidence to help propel me to the end, by reminding myself, that even on the lowest chi days you can still move forward.

Training is my Anti-Anti Drug

Lately classes have seemed more intense. Perhaps it is the disappearance of the walking breaks instituted during summer's debilitating heat, the smaller class sizes of late, or -most likely- I'm training more than ever and am consequently more tired and sore when going to class.

Being insufficiently rested has resulted in a number of consequences, the two most prominent being the rising importance of coffee and pain relievers in my life.

I've always been in a constant battle with coffee, I love it but I don't like the accompanying highs and lows depending of my caffination. I don't like the gurgling stomach I get if I have it before training, but I like not feeling like curling up to sleep in the meditation room.

Pain relievers are a little different. I think I've mentioned before that I like to avoid taking medicine if I can. Serious illness and injury are one thing but otherwise I like my body to take care of itself. But near-perpetual soreness and semi-injury are testing my resolve on this point.

I don't want to feel dependent on coffee or Advil to provide me with energy or cure my aches and pains. I want to know my body well enough to push it harder but not too hard, because I know that will make me stronger in the end than relying of a caffeine fix to give me faux-chi or anti-inflammatories to make me feel less stiff and more flexible. I don't want to be an addict!!!!! So how to solve this? I already get more sleep than most people I know. My job is low impact. Do I really just need to train less? Because after a downright excruciatingly painful set of kicks last night I need to reassess what I'm doing. Or maybe I need to crush my pride or whatever is holding me back and embrace the drugs......

"Please sir, I want some more [water]."

First, Amituofo to Qbertplaya whose cranky knee gave out on her right at the end of class Saturday. I hope it didn't scare her parents too much! In true train-harder style she was smiling and laughing (if limping) by the time she left class. I hope you will be back up and sweeping soon, Qbertplaya!

It was a fun weekend of training these past two classes. But dryyyyyy. No water breaks except for at stretching, and my tongue was sticking to my mouth. I thought both days it would finally be the day I broke down and asked Sifu for water. There was a brief month-or-so-long period where for some reason I got in the bad habit of sneaking drinks while waiting on forms line. I appropriately chastised myself and kicked that rule-breaking, but I've never been able to ask for water. I am not sure why, maybe it's some sort of false pride or something, but I don't want to get water unless I'm told I can. Or maybe it's my way of limiting my water intake since I've only recently learned to control my ill-fated guzzling of 3+ bottles per class. Whatever the reason, it was gratifying to know that I was in fact able to keep going without water. It wasn't the awesomest, but I survived just fine. It's like today when Sifu made us do ceshoufans for the 10th time and I thought "there is no way on earth I will make it down the carpet" and yet I did. I bout buckled at the end, but I made it. Or in the middle of erluquan when I think what I really want to do is just stop at five kicks, but push myself to keep going in spite of panting and aching legs. It's good to know I'm not giving up when something seems too daunting, but pushing myself every day to go a little farther. Will I push myself to ask for a water break? For now I'm maintaining my silence.

PUSH!!!

As I mentioned recently, testing is October 6th-7th, and time is a-ticking. So I am inching my way forth in erluquan, a good number of moves past five kicks now, and some tell me I am oh-so-close to completing it. I have avoided focusing on the end, preferring to work on what I'm being taught at that present moment. But as the days draw closer, I am forced to ponder it some more because it is becoming more apparent that I'm really not that far. It is do-able...right?

Part of my reluctance to look too far forward is a desire to learn it right, meaning, waiting patiently for someone to teach me during class, in Temple. The natural progression of things. But that also means sometimes going through an entire two hour session without learning something new in erluquan if I'm not called upon to work with someone. So, I've found myself trying to study the folks ahead of me as they do erluquan, hoping to pick up the next move or two. I am not confident in my ability to 'fake' my way through, however.

So, is it cheating when I ask someone outside of class for a pointer or two in refining what I've picked up myself? Am I breaking the rules, specifically, #16, which states that we ought not ask other students to teach us? (Although, a loophole would suggest that these are rules of conduct during class, thereby making anything outside of class okay -- I'm such a lawyer!) Or, is that part of the game too -- using my own eyes and brain and body, and pushing myself to learn versus just being passive and waiting?

I am conflicted. My primary goal is to learn erluquan correctly, and it should be done regardless of whatever deadline is looming in the future. But, such a deadline can be useful if it serves as the impetus for me pushing myself to train harder. And it's not about being competitive with others, but with myself.

In tossing this all about my head I am also wondering if my hesitation is due to a fear of failure. If I don't push myself to complete erluquan, I therefore will not be able to test for it and will therefore fall back onto another six months of Level 1 training. While another six months of training would do a body good, I don't want to think that I'm somehow tricking myself into forgoing this opportunity to advance by being complacent -- by hiding behind the idea that whatever happens, happens.

Instead, this is how I think I'm gonna approach the upcoming weeks: no matter what, I want to learn erluquan because it's been long enough, dammit. I can totally do it, and I will (I hope). And I'm not gonna give up on executing it as well as possible. Even if I don't have the entire sequence of moves down, I don't have to forget about being crisp and sharp. Whether I pass or fail is irrelevant to my desire to push myself and train harder in attaining the end of erluquan. But I will do it, to give myself a chance.