The Wonder of Epsom Salt

I remember the first time I took an epsom salt bath.

Scratch that. The bath itself was unremarkable.

I remember the day after I took an epsom salt bath for the first time. My muscle soreness significantly and magically decreased as if I had spent 2 weeks recovering. I was hooked. Cartons of it later, I finally did my research (aka googling).


Image source: Warwick Salt

Turn out epsom salt is not salt salty?

English is so weird. It's like when I learned that there's no coffee in coffee cake...

Epsom salt is Magnesium Sulfate compound. Magnesium helps the function of muscles and nerves and reduce inflammation. Sulfate helps body absorb nutrients.

And best of all, our bodies can absorb both of them through soaking.

You can read all about it at Epsom Salt Council.

Apparently, there are more ways to use epsom salt than just soaking to reduce muscle pain and bruises. It can remove splinter, exfoliate skin, volumize hair, feed plants, reduce constipation, etc.

I have no idea a $3 carton of something can do this much. Now only if it would totally get rid of my all-over muscle sore not just reduce it, the world will be perfect.

The Heat is On - Winter Style

Winter is my favorite time of year to train. It’s dark and cold out so you aren’t tempted to skip class to go lounge in the park or do some other activity. At 5:00 it looks like nighttime so, for me anyway, training feels like a small detour on the way to bed. But the real joy is that it isn’t hot. Yes, I have made the breakthrough discovery that wintertime is colder than the rest of the year. And even though the giant heaters are often blowing unpleasantly during class, it's still preferable to sweltering 100 degree temperatures outside. Winter means no labored breathing in the nearly solid wall of humidity. Only one uniform required per class. No “Shaolin Showers.” And there is less desperate over-hydrating during the stretching break.

Imagine my astonishment then, when last night, about 30 minutes into class, I went to femininely blot some of the perspiration from my brow (ok, swipe the pouring sweat from my face like the Neanderthal man) only to find there wasn’t a dry spot left on my uniform to absorb it! It wasn’t mid-August, drenched-like-a-rainstorm-soaked, but it was significantly more sweaty than I am accustomed to as of late.

At the water break I unabashedly, and gloriously guzzled my entire bottle of water, without any nauseating consequences for the second half of class. What was going on here? Was it actually Summer and I just blacked out for 7 months? No. It was simply the extra-chi class fueled by the always-exciting N’ou-taught class and the presence of the long-absent Hwalan.

Also, at the beginning when N’ou had me demonstrate caijiao. It took me back to my first L2 class when he had me demonstrate lunbi caijiao and my brain completely froze. It’s nice to know that if nothing else, your basics are developing and strong, and it’s an especially good mindset to have while training.

Another source of inspiration was that even though I was extra sweaty, nothing hurt. I’m sore from training after the lazy-food-fest of last week, but no injuries, no unbearable hip pain or shin splints. No phlegmy flu hampering my lungs; no bad lunch wreaking havoc in my stomach. I was training unhindered and was able to execute my movements, (I felt) with much more chi and much less angst than usual. So even though it wasn’t my typical Winter training session, it is a class like last night’s that makes me excited to roll in again tonight and continue the fun, sweat and all.

Don't Cramp My Style!

I don't want to speak too soon, but I do feel like I'm at the beginning of another good training phase. All day I wanted to train. When the 4:00 blues hit, I still wanted to train. And when I walked to temple, I still wanted to train. When I got home, I got right back to blogging; two nights in a row! Good things are definitely in store.

I am still working at getting back in the swing of things. Yesterday, while not the hardest class of late, I did experience something I had thought was far behind me: stitches in my side. I learned long ago when running, and then again when I was a swimmer, that despite appearances, you can train through such cramps, and you end up stronger as a result. I applied the same philosphy to training kung fu, but I was extremely happy when I put the days of double-me-up stomach cramps behind me.

Last night I felt the chi from the first "Line up!" And Sifu even gave me muttered encouragement during caijiaos. But the amped up popping and extension caused me to start feeling those side stitches before we got to cetitui, and they didn't leave for the rest of basics. Luckily, they weren't too severe and I was able to finish class with the same chi I started (relatively). Still, it's a sign how my strength and endurance have dropped off. This time last year I had just finished my training mini-marathon. I really miss that fitness and chi-level, even though they came with a fair amount of soreness.

Luckily, as Spenser says "there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought." So I have never really lost my chi or my endurance because it is always there waiting to be rediscovered. Or, for a less esoteric reference, someone said (maybe Bruce Lee?) that kung fu isn't learning, but reminding yourself of things your body forgot. (Something to that effect. I'm better with 16th century literature I guess.) In any case, I'll do my best to not have those concerns either way, by not forgetting/losing/regressing anymore, but always moving forward, as we're taught.

On Getting Out of Your Own Way

Tonight before training, Cheng and I were practicing Ceshoufan, and attempting to articulate the force or thrust that allows you to go faster. We came to understand that it definitely involves alignment, balance, and continuous movement, but we never had that "Aha!" moment where the missing piece was revealed.

Ji suggested flipping around, the way Han teaches, and I think I've blogged about this before, but I absolutely love this exercise. This is Ceshoufan, but FAST, and in place-- and you become a spinning wheel, hovering above the floor, squelching friction, defying gravity, and yes! Getting out of your own way.

Getting out of your own way is an amazing anti-skill. It is the absence of blockage, the elimination of procrastination, the banishing of excuses, of clouded thought, of fear and doubt. It is returning-- not to where you've been, but to where you are, again and again. It is yourself chasing yourself, around and around, until you merge fully with the "you" that you're chasing, until you catch up and are fully gathered at one centered point.

To do this, to merge fully, you must make room for yourself by getting out of your own way. This requires the perfect timing of orbiting hands and feet around your center. It means using the power from your core, but letting your limbs steal the show. And it employs movement-- continuous movement, and balance, and alignment.

Every time I do it, I note the wonderful feeling of replacing myself. We are always creating and re-creating anyway, undergoing constant regeneration at every... *ahem* ... turn. And although I know part of the objective is to stay in one place in order to embody the aforementioned hovering wheel, I always get satisfaction from finding myself just a little bit ahead of where I was when I began.

I think whatever it is that helps to speed up Ceshoufan is the same thing that will help with xuanzi, and xuanfeijiao (sp? Tornado?), and it has to do with launching from your center, not your extremities, and being aware of all of it at once. This is something I'm definitely still learning about jumping and getting height in general-- how to be aware of my body when it is aloft-- how to expand that slice of time so that I can be in it and understand it.

All ponderings aside, any advice about how to jump higher is greatly appreciated. Getting out of my own way implies that I've created a way to begin with, but "up, higher" is still relatively unchartered territory.