Happy New Year... again

Yesterday was the end of the Chinese new year celebrations and while we missed the parade, after class a bunch of us had fun frolicking with the party-ers in Chinatown. So technically (only not actually) we could say today is the beginning of another new year. So technically we could make resolutions. Well ok, that's not what Chinese New Year is about and we can make resolutions any old day. And they mean more if you actually keep them day to day instead of needing a specific start date. But, I thought I would take this moment to step back and assess my resolutions at least as far as KF is concerned.

Resolution 1. Stop making resolutions... train harder.

Ok done. Seriously, I'm not trying to be clever. Friday night I got to learn more Xiaohongquan and consequently one of my favorite moves in KF. The one where you rotate your arm around your head sort of like you're brushing hair out of your face or something. I always thought it was a really beautiful move that was so Shaolin but not. Like it doesn't look like kung fu per se because it isn't like a strike or a kick, but consequently it is very Shaolin because it shows how learning forms is about more than learning fighting moves, it's about expression and movement and whatnot. My point being, I had looked forward very much to learning this move, when it really has no bearing on improving your skill in kung fu. Now that I've learned it, I haven't gotten any further in improving my ceshoufan or jumping higher in my tornado, or kicking faster in my 5 kicks. I sure haven't done a kip up. Those things don't come from resolutions about "I'm going to learn X, Y or Z." They come from training harder every day until finally you've built the strength and coordination to do them. And SAYING this year I'm going to hit my middle split, is silly when I can just keep training and eventually it will come. So as always, I am going to try to think less and train more. And try really really hard to get the kip up..... :P

Liquid Endosperm-tastic

After not being able to train for over a week because I am performing in a play (thank you to all the KF dorks who came to give me chi!), I trained today. Right before class, I decided to try something new. I usually never drink anything during training, but today I decided to give coconut water (liquid endosperm) a try. Everyone has been talking about how great this natural sports drink is and I had to see for myself. I bought a VitoCoco coconut water from across the street before class and couldn't wait to rip the little tab off the box and gush it down.

During basics, I was dead tired and couldn't really catch my breath. After only 1 week of not training, my KF stamina disappeared. I was almost tempted to drink it right after basics but I didn't because drinking a cold drink right after a heated workout is probably not good for the body. So I was hoping that Shifu would give us a water break during forms. And sure enough he did. I only took a few sips, as I didn't want to overdo it. The coconut water was less sweet than I expected. It tasted more like milky water with a tiny amount of sugar added. It wasn't really delicious but I must admit, my body felt better. There was this warmth coming from my stomach (or was it my Dan Tian?) like a battery being recharged. After a few minutes, I could sense a recharge of energy. It's not like a jolt of caffeine but more like a slow and steady rise of energy. My muscles felt more loose and I had a little more pop on my 5 kicks.

After class ended, I drank the rest of it. And that warmth in my belly came back again. And I must say, I kinda liked it. I am not the type of person to depend on anything before or after training. But this might be my new formula for after training nutrition. "Monsieur? May I have a Number 1 soup and a coconut water please?"

Celebration!

Hooray! Today is the blog's first birthday! I want to thank everyone who has posted, commented or given us inspiration for keeping it going. I feel so much has happened in the past year, so it's awesome that we have a nice journal of sorts that we can look back upon and reflect. I often wish I had thought of doing this earlier in my Shaolin career!

For me, blogging has been a great way of training after training -- meditating upon the action meditation. And just like when we train when we express ourselves on the green carpet, we also express ourselves here but in words.

It has been such a beautiful experience sharing our time and thoughts! I look forward to keeping the chi going with you all!

Oh, and Happy Chinese New Year! Gongxi facai! 恭喜發財

So many reasons to celebrate!

La-z-girl

Last night, sometime during erqijiao, I thought, "Well this isn't as bad as I always dread it being. And if you have to teach the second part of class, then really the most tiring part is over."

I did indeed get asked to teach the second part of class. This time it was tsabu. I love each time I teach something new because I invariably learn some new mechanic from Sifu that I either forgot or never knew in the first place. However, when I woke up this morning without any aches or pains (I'm not complaining mind you!), I wondered if I am getting stronger or if I am benefiting from the 40 odd minutes of teaching that have replaced the end of my Level 1 classes. Again, I'm thrilled not to be doctoring aching crying muscles and joints, but it makes me worry that my revelation during erqijiao was actually a revelation of my not training as hard.

I realized early on that by bringing in a new generation of teachers, Sifu is also giving the older students a break from teaching and allowing them to have time back that training time that you lose. I love teaching (and learning) but I've realized that if I want to keep progressing, I can't settle into thoughts like "well once class is half over I'll just be teaching and all the working out will be over." If anything, that means I need to take that precious first hour and train even harder, and not think about saving anything for later, since later I'll be training teaching-style. I don't resent using that time to teach, as I said, I love that it allows me to refresh on things myself, but that means every moment that I'm going down the line is doubly important and I should take full advantage of it instead of anticipating its end.

Chi-plosion!!

Yesterday, while going down the lines in basics, my chi exploded. A chi-plosion, if you will. To be more accurate, it was more like a build up and then a volcanic eruption. It was amazing and fantastic! I have never felt so much chi before! It was as if every cell and every fiber of my being had just come alive for the first time. Heng Xu felt it too and got out of the way of the flying shrapnel and let me lead line, which gave me another chi-plosion.

Training started pretty rough. I almost didn't make it to temple in time. I was pretty late (11:57am). Yikes! All I remember of my commute was lots of sprinting and wishing the bus/train would go faster. As I walked through the temple doors and said, "Amituofo," I saw a few surprised faces, namely, Ellen and Sucheela's. The night before, I was berating Ellen that she always said she would train Friday morning but she never came. It would have looked pretty bad that I didn't show up while she did. They were ready to pounce like tigers on my egregious mistake. I can only imagine the flurries of IM's and blog lashings they were preparing to unleash from their evil minds. But I made it. Needless to say, I didn't get a chance to warm up.

My muscles felt really tight and stiff from caijiao to xubu, then something happened. During 雙腿屈膝跳 (shuangtui quxitiao), my muscles released. I felt the chi. I began to have an uncontrollable smile on my face a mile wide. The rest of the basics I don't remember so much, except Xu looking at me like I am crazy or have gone bonkers. I just felt the radiating chi exploding from my 丹田 (dan tien). It was one of the few times that I felt my 騰空翻腰 (tengkong fanyao) actually feeling right while I was jumping and twisting.

Of course, once the stretching session came, the chi sort of just started seeping away. During forms, my chi felt low after being so high. Next time, I am going to see if I can keep the chi-plosion going until the end of class. And maybe, just maybe, the chi-plosion will keep going, like a nuclear reaction that never ends.

Combatting aging with training!

Yesterday, the NY Times published an interesting article about the effects of exercise on aging. "Train hard and train often," said Hirofumi Tanaka, a 41-year-old soccer player and exercise physiologist at the University of Texas.

And on our way to soup after training last night, JJ asked Sucheela how old she was turning today on her birthday (yay!), and when she revealed her age, he was surprised and said something like, "Wow, the kung fu works!"

Yes, Train har-dah!

Curse of The Dorks!

Did anybody other than me notice this curse? When you become one of the contributors on this blog, sooner or later you either fall out of your training schedule or fall out of writing. It's as if blogging and training have secret force against each other. So far, only Cheng defies the curse. She trains and blogs so regularly I want to give her Top of the Dorks award.

To support my case of the curse, I give you examples:

1. Mo doesn't write regularly. So she was able to dodge the curse and trains without interruption.


2. Ji joined the blog and then got a new job and a baby and trains less.


3. Qbertplaya and I wrote pretty regularly and then we got knee injury (at different times.) Although we are back training, we fail to keep our posting schedule.


4. Our latest addition, Leo, joined the blog and then got a new fabulous acting role and cannot train as frequently as he did.

You see????!!!? Now give me chi. I'm going to try to break out of the curse! Arrrrrgggghhh!!!

Instruction Deconstruction

Since Sifu first told me to teach, I have been asked to do it several times, I even had the opportunity to teach in Austria. Yet last night was the first time I was asked to teach a basic. I was always puzzled that the first thing I taught was erluquan and not, say caijiao, but after teaching both xubu and yiluquan last night, I can say teaching a form is actually much less daunting than teaching a basic. What I realized is that, since forms are composed of basics, learning them is more about learning transitions and rhythm than learning a new movement. Teaching an yiluquan I can say, "Next you go into a pubu." and that makes sense. But teaching a xubu, or any basic, you are teaching someone an entirely new movement, asking them to move/hold their bodies in an entirely new way. And if you are bad at articulating an explanation of the move, the student can't possibly be expected to understand it. I now have an even greater respect for the people who taught me my basics and their ability to clarify each move for me as I slowly caught on. Now, I must slowly catch on to how best to teach others.

Another, un-looked for, difficulty in teaching is needing water. I have gotten a lot better about controlling my water intake, and have as yet, never asked for a break. But when teaching, all the talking aggrivates my already dry mouth to a point where my tongue is sticking to my teeth and my instructions are all but unintelligible. Perhaps it will force me to ramble less and be more concise in my instructions!

Magic Mirror on the Wall....

Before training I always try to do a few ceshoufans while warming up, particularly on my left side, to get my body warmed up and break through that initial intimidation before I have to do bawang zakuis in class. Yesterday I moved down to the other end of the carpet so that I could watch myself do them in the mirror. Admittedly, my attempts to watch myself probably threw off my form a little bit, but it was amazing to see how different it looked from how it felt.

Often I see someone not extending or not straightening their leg and I think, "How can you still be doing X after you've been taught a dozen times not to do it?" But then I remember I still fight to have a straight leg in my gongbus and I've literally been doing them since day one. The trouble is feeling something versus seeing it. My leg feels honest to god straight. I feel my knee locking. but when I look in the mirror I see that is not the case, and I see why I'm still getting called at in line.

That is what happened with my ceshoufan. I never thought they were stellar, but I did feel they were improving. But watching them in the mirror I now see many of the sources of my problems and lots of new problems to sort out. Funnily enough, this didn't bother me. Instead it made me happy to have finally been able to identify specific problems in my form instead of hearing the inspiring but often vague go-to command of "Extend!" I'm much more comfortable having things to work on when I can see exactly what they are instead of hoping against hope that I'm correcting something the right way. Hopefully, now that I can see it I will eventually get to the point where I CAN feel the difference and I won't need the mirror anymore to tell me what 's going on.

Dork on Stage!

Our own Leo will be in this show The Moonlight Room next month.


Let's go give him chi!