Faster and Higher

As my 4th year anniversary of training at temple approaches, I have been reflecting lately on what these 4 years have meant to me. I have changed so much these 4 years and I have also changed very little. My chi and stamina can be extraordinary at times and other times, like last night, very lackluster. I am still inflexible. I still haven't achieved a middle split or a side split and I definitely haven't kissed my toes. I am afraid to acknowledge it. There is a 4 year plateau. Who am I kidding? There's a daily plateau. How do you break through that ceiling and climb above? Many have quit or left the the temple to pursue other endeavors, training, and start families. Why do I choose to stay? How do I reconcile the many hours I spend a week kicking and jumping? In my mind, it is the best form of exercise; the best form of meditation. Relationships, love, and friends have come and gone from my life. Only One thing has remained constant - my dedication to training at the USA Shaolin Temple. I stay not because I don't have anywhere else to go. I stay because there's so much more to learn.

Age ain't nothin' but a number

I really enjoyed reading this article from The St. Louis Post-Dispatch about this 62 year old man who continues to train harder every day!


Like fine wine, man improves with age
By Harry Jackson Jr.
Posted: Wednesday, July 28, 2010 12:00 am

If Spartan soldiers still trained today, they'd do it in J.R. Moore's basement.

"I call it 'The Dungeon,'" Moore said.

"They say when you reach a certain age, you're done. Well, I'm stronger now than I was at 50, and I was stronger at 50 than I was at 40. That's what I'm telling people, age is only a number; you can always get stronger."

Step into the basement and find the walls lined with exercise weights and pictures of prize-winning bodybuilders, hundreds of both.

In the midst of the photos are proverbs and sayings. His favorite is "Steroid free since 1947."

"I was born in 1947," he said, laughing.

And while his body is in superb condition, the closest he has come to competing has been as an impersonator of Macho Man Randy Savage, a professional wrestling icon. Moore stands about 5 feet 10 inches and has the same muscular, prize-wrestler build. He still has the replica of the championship wrestling belt.

Every few minutes he takes a drink from a bottle of water.

His meals consist of oatmeal every morning, tuna, salmon and fruits and vegetables for lunch and dinner. He sleeps eight hours a night. "Gotta get sleep," he said.

Although he worked at an earlier age in a gym that closed years ago, he has never had professional training. And he still practices the simple resistance exercises that he used in the '60s.

"I'm old school; I compete against myself," he said. "Every year I try to do more than I did the year before. And the only person I have to impress is me."

Why? "I love it; I just love it," he said, curling up a big, smooth muscle from his left biceps.

With all of the memorabilia, weights, photos and benches in the room, something is curiously absent: no electronic entertainment, no TV, no radio, no stereo, no treadmill or other modern "essential."

"I don't want any distractions," he said.

The closest thing to an exercise machine is a 30-year-old bench-press stand that catches the weights when he's done so he doesn't need a spotter.

He ignores trends. One of his three exercise benches he bought when he was 15.

He likes to experience every move he makes. He spends 90 minutes a day exercising.

"This is training," he said. "... Sometimes I have friends down here working with me, but that's it."

A large, institutional clock hangs on the wall.

"You want to work? Compete against the clock. You can't cheat the clock."

Some of the signs on his wall testify to that: 1,033 pushups in one hour in 1990; 1,261 squats in an hour in 2005; 148 bench reps totaling 4,380 pounds in 2008.

One secret to longevity is to stay healthy, he said. So he rarely lifts more than 40 pounds per arm.

"I never lift heavy," he said. "You have to avoid injury. One little twinge and I stop.

"Repetitions. Just repetitions."

The light reps also take care of aerobic workouts, he said; he doesn't do roadwork.

He demonstrated his warm up: "Here, sit here and for three minutes." As he sat, he punched, not hard, about 45 degrees upward.

"You can do this sitting on the couch watching TV," he said. "You can do this from a wheelchair.

"Here, you try it."

A short time later, not three minutes, he was laughing.

"See that's tough, ain't it? But you made it to 45 seconds, next time, do 50 seconds, and keep going.

"You'll just keep getting stronger."

Moore is not so unusual, other than his intense enthusiasm, said Dr. Scott Kaar, an orthopedic surgeon and director of sports medicine at St. Louis University. Someone who works out continuously will continue to get stronger, he said. "Keep working safely ... avoid injury, and there's nothing that says you can't continue to (stay strong) your entire life."

Start slow, check with your doctor and don't overdo it, he said.

Meanwhile, Moore said he has no plans to quit; as long as he sets his own records, he plans to break them.

"It's my thing," he said. "Everybody should have a thing, something they love."

He took another drink. "People make it so complicated. They say when you get old you go down hill. Well I'm going uphill."

There's the CHI!

Food for Thought

This past Sunday, after testing, Sifu's comments were that we were getting sloppy and slow. Not exactly the summary one hopes for. "Sifu!" I wanted to cry, "I had the stomach flu! I've barely eaten for 5 days!"

I managed to refrain. my only goals going into testing were to not pass out or throw up. But his words stuck with me, especially as he repeated them to the seven lonely people that showed up for Level 2 Monday night. He added, "No more. Starting today always be strong. Always be sharp."

"But Sifu!" I wanted to cry, "I had the stomach flu! I've barely eaten for 5 days!"

I couldn't bear being a disappointment, but instead of protesting, I shut up and began class. It was awesome and totally bizarre. After ten minutes we were still working on caijiao. By 7:30 we had gotten through three basic moves. By 8:00 we had finished going over 6 moves, all L1 basics.
You can imagine the intensity with which we were executing and fine-tuning the details of every kick. It wasn't at all frustrating but instead rejuvenating to get the tough love and be forced to go back and do those very first basics upon which we constantly build. During stretching, Sifu made a side comment, "Push yourself -- if it was easy everyone would be a master."

By the end of class something clicked. I didn't need to cry my excuse to Sifu because it didn't matter. I should have approached testing with as much chi as ever. Sure I had been sick, but I was kidding myself if I couldn't admit that part of the problem was the week I took off before the bout of illness. Before that I had taken another week off from an earlier bout of flu. There may have been sickness mingled up in there, but I was indulging it and more than the dehydration from stomach flu, the only 2 days of training in a span of nearly three weeks was more to blame. You can only lie to yourself just so much, before you realize your making excuses to make yourself feel better about something you feel guilty having done. I needed some time off; that was fine. But that was my choice and I can't milk an illness to justify that choice. You have to be confident in your decisions and then won't feel the need to justify them later.

So I can't go in and say, "I had the stomach flu!" and then settle for making it through without passing out and throwing up. That's trying to cover the fact that I was not feeling right about my choice not to train before that point. I needed to have gone in there with the highest level of chi I could muster. The same goes for class. I choose to come. As Sifu says, "Don't waste your life. You come to temple, then train harder." So I shouldn't come to training without giving it 100%. Even if physically or mentally I'm not at my optimum place, I can give all of whatever I have. Doing that, I'll have nothing to regret, nothing to reprimand myself for, and there won't be any reason not to be proud of every choice I make. I won't need excuses and I won't to worry if Sifu thinks I'm training hard enough; I'll know I am through being honest with myself and he'll see it. So, to sum up this public moralizing, let's try to do what we profess and train harder.

Moving Forward One Caijiao at a Time

I think I’ve mentioned before that sometimes during class, when the going gets tough, I remind myself that this is as hard as it can get. Every class will be a little easier, because every time I am making myself a little stronger. I think I’ve also mentioned how I know that this is a completely inaccurate and illogical rationale.

Last night though, when Sifu was saying “challenge yourself, move forward not back” I realized just how very inaccurate and illogical my rationale really was. Before, I was thinking it was off because some days you have more sleep, better nutrition and so on and so on. But last night I realized (or re-realized) something else. That if you are always pushing yourself, training will always be hard, no matter if it's L1 or L2. If you're training with the same intensity then you'll always be pushing yourself to that next level. Sure if I kicked as low as I did when I first started, training would be a breeze, but because I’m pushing forward, kicking higher, stances lower, popping harder, it's still just as tough as that very first day. I’m moving forward.

This made me think of one of Sifu’s other axioms, “nothing is difficult, nothing is easy.” I usually focus on the “nothing is difficult” part because telling yourself that nothing is easy isn't really an inspiring though. But in light of my other musings, it’s GOOD that nothing is easy. The day a class becomes easy is the day I'm not pushing myself, not training hard. The pain and difficulty are marks that I’m keeping my resolution to train harder. This all feels familiar, maybe I’ve blogged it before, but it’s a point worth reiterating. At least, I have to reiterate it for myself for when I feel lame still being tired during tengkong fanyao even after doing it for 2 years... But then, enjoying the never-ending ass-kicking is part of what we love about training, right? :D

Tropical Heat Wave

I have been blogging rather sporadically of late. Writing posts when I don't have much to say and not posting when something of interest actually happens. I decided this is probably partly a result of getting out of my training rhythm since testing. For some reason after testing my schedule got thrown off a little and it's been hard to fall back in to my 5 days a week routine, which, has seemed to throw off all my other living rhythms and thus my blogging. I've been training about 4 times a week, but never the same days, and me, I like routine. But what with a butt sword, or a messed up neck, or too much work, I end up doing doubles on Fridays just to make up for missing a Wednesday and a Thursday. It feels a little forced.

So in an effort to recapture consistency, I decided to just train as much as my body would let me, until a pattern re-establishes itself. Yesterday, I woke up right at 10 (which is as late as I can wake up and still make class) so I decided to go, even though I hadn't eaten, and even though the weathermen had been telling us all week how it was going to be 96 degrees. Putting on my uniform before class I was already sweating, but I saw that I was probably going to have to lead at least one of the lines so I pushed thoughts of heatstroke out of my mind. Sure enough I was in the front, and too soon, I was in front of the single line Sifu created.

It was HOT. And contrary to recent form, Sifu didn't let us walk until after ceshoufan. I was drenched, but reminded myself that the summer I first began walking breaks didn't exist, and I was way weaker in those days, so by God there's no reason to wimp out now. Still, even after stretching, a change of uniform, and spending the second half of class teaching I was dripping wet all over. I drank three bottles of water, versus my usual 1/2. I was proud of all of us who trained through that hazy day. It was great chi having some other Austrian friends visiting as well and keeping us all inspired. I was really glad I got out of my hot apartment and trained; the last time I was that dripping I was still working on five kicks. It was a good catalyst for evaluation of my progress, and helped recapture the way it felt to train when I first started. Plus, the watermelon after class was the most delicious thing I ever tasted.

Eat Sandia, Train Harder

I ran into this post about how watermelon contains citrulline which can help reduce muscle fatigue in athletes.

That's funny.

We finished two giant watermelons right after training yesterday. They were delicious and refreshing. And they can even help us train harder! Who knew watermelon is this good for you?

More chi, but try not to train quite so hard....

I never was crazy about the phrase "You're trying too hard." Trying too hard? Usually people aren't trying hard enough. How can you try too hard? The thing is, it's true. After testing Sunday (which was fine overall, except for uncontrollable shaking from beginning to end that left my erluquan a little wobbly), I had all kinds of ideas in my head about how I wanted to make an extra effort of certain things that I felt were lackluster. But therein lies the problem. Training last night, it seemed the harder I tried, the more I messed up. If I trip in bawang zaikui one more time I swear I'm gonna go ballistic. My balance keeps degenerating in my cechuaihtui and biantui. The harder I try on my strikes the weaker and more incorrect they become. And as I try to concentrate harder, things fall apart. I see what I'm doing wrong but it just gets worse and worse. Gha! And then when people tell me to slow down/relax/whatever, I want to beat the living hell out of them.

Not that it is their fault. They are trying to be encouraging, and more than that, they are right. It's my anti-relaxing, my trying too hard, that is making things worse. But how the heck can you relax when you keep messing the same thing up? When you desperately want to land the bawang zakui and not stumble over like a drunk donkey? I hate gratuitous encouragement, especially when I know I am doing something badly. It just makes me feel worse. I know, I'm full of issues, but seriously, there is nothing more frustrating than someone telling you that you're doing well when you know you aren't. For me anyway. And then I try harder and get worse, and well, you can see where this cycle is headed...

I just can't relax. I am impatient. I want to get better faster and so I try to train harder, and instead I am backtracking. The sheer illogic of it all is so incredibly frustrating. Sifu has told me to let go. To breathe, to slow down, etc. and I really honestly do try. But how can you work at speed and pop and power while simultaneously being nonchalant and que sera about whatever you are doing? Man, I think some serious meditation is in order...

Smashing Out Of Your Comfort Zone

Another guest entry from Heng De. Amituofo!

So I've recently been playing a lot of a certain video game called Super Smash Bros. Brawl for the Wii. Basically, it's every Nintendo character you can think of, and probably some you can't, fighting each other trying to knock the others off the screen. I first played the original version for N64 when I was just a wee lad back in 1999. In addition to moving around you basically have 4 other motions -- attack, special, shield/dodge, and grab. I never used the shield at all back in the N64 version, and rarely used the grab.

As I started playing Brawl, I was decent, but I realized (especially after playing a few matches online) that to get better, I would seriously have to start blocking and dodging. While trying to learn to incorporate these new things into my play, of course my level of play would go down a bit because I wouldn't know exactly what I was doing. But after practicing over and over I knew that my overall game would improve greatly.

So basically what this made me think of was how we go through a lot of the same things in kung fu. We get comfortable doing the movements a certain way, and then at some point maybe realize that the form isn't exactly correct, or the physics are a little different, or something. But it's hard to stop doing what we've become so used to to try to implement the new thing. Especially when it feels like we already are getting enough power/pop/looks good from what we're doing.

Some moves I can think of off the top of my head where I've had to do this are:

- bian tui and cechuatui -- the whole using the hip and not your leg to kick thing, especially because when you first start to use your hip more it feels like you don't have any power.
- tornado -- I noticed from a picture taken recently that I'm not tucking my leg at all, despite my tornado apparently looking purty; need to fix this.

- gongbu -- keeping your body straight forward, especially in forms like xiaohongquan.

- strumming both up and down instead of just down while playing Guitar Hero (for when it gets really fast).
- pubu chuanzhang -- using hips to power it instead of arms.
- Actually in basically every movement using your hips for power instead of whatever else.

I guess this whole thing can be extended to life in general too; to change and improve ourselves we have to step outside our comfort zones and be willing to try something new. Hmmm....and who says video games aren't good for you!

"Why do we come here?"

I want to post something insightful and/or inspirational about coming back from illness and training hard and so on and so forth. But in my head I just see Sifu telling me to ceshoufan faster, or myself trying vainly to wrench my leg around in mopan saotui. I am starting to feel desperate about ever regaining the head flip; I'm regressing to fear of bawang zakui. Every time I jump I feel like I'm half as high as people who are half my height. I'm not worried about testing. It will come and go and I'll do my best. I'm more concerned that my best has ceased to impress me. I haven't been training two years and already I have learned so much, but then the other half of me says, I've been training almost two years and I still go at a snail's pace in ceshoufan...

I'm not trying to get all gloomy; testing time is always a moment for self-assessment and I feel like I have never trained as hard as I claimed or intended. I mean, if I wanted a better ceshoufan I would have gotten it by now. It's not an aerial. The head flip I had, so there's no excuse for wallowing around in self pity over it. I've spent a lot of my blogging indulging in complaints about this or that soreness, or the alleged difficulty of something. EZ says in class "Not just hard, Hard-ER!" And while this makes myself, Sifu, and everyone else laugh good naturedly, it's true. I'm not saying I don't train hard, but I can definitely train harder.

Expiration Date

Thursday night was my first night back at temple after almost 3 weeks. And I'm still recovering. I am sore all over and it leads me to wonder why my muscles have lost their chi so quickly. Is there an expiration date in all of us? Is there a number of days we have to use our muscles and train or we start losing the flexibility and strength? Is there a time limit or can we prolong it by adding quarters cross training? What about stamina? To keep the chi up throughout basics is a must. But what goes first? Stamina? Flexibility? Strength? Maybe I'm just getting old, and my body is no longer able to keep up its stamina and strength without constant training.

I am thinking of this only because I foresee a future where I am working on TV/Film sets or the stage all the time and all over the world and have much less time to come train at temple. It's very hard to train while working 12 hour days being emotionally available. It's a different kind of training. More like chi kung. Energy based. An internal style.

Well, it sounds like I need to stop whining and writing and actually get my sorry sore butt to temple. How else am I going to get that CHI back?!!

This and That on a Tuesday Night

Tonight was my first L1 class in a over a week, and my first L1 night class in two weeks. It's not that I'm feeling too proud for L1, just a combination of engagements (and well, ok, laziness) kept me away this week. And you have to have SOME time off... Yeah, my protesting is really just a sign of guilt...

Anyway, it was really nice to come back and be in a big old class of 31 and work on polishing some basics for testing. Boy do they need it; there were definitely some places I felt myself being sloppy. What really threw me off, though, were my forms. What with teaching and learning xiao hong quan and worrying about L2 basics, there is definitely less polish on my L1 forms. I know that Sifu is going to call me on erluquan for testing, and I haven't done it all the way through more than once in the last month. My balance off in places, missing little details; I am starting to get nervous. I might even be more worried about erluquan this time around that in October! I keep going into a L2 basic, gongbu shuangtuizhang housaotui gongbu lianzhang, after the sweep. BAD! I need to get refocused, and quick.

Even so, it was a good reminder that I have to be responsible for my own training. I have to make sure that I work on those things that need it, even if it means taking time outside of class. Naturally the more you learn, the less time you can devote in class to each individual thing. So, instead of attempting headflips before class, I am going to start making sure my forms are on point. I would hate for Sifu to ask for my certificates back! :P

Leader of the Pack

Everyone remembers their first time...the first time you lead the line, the first time you don't get sent back to KFK, the first time you learn a form, the first time you teach... :D Yesterday was the second time I ever did a double (1.5 since L2 was only an hour because of movie night) and it was the first time I led the line in both classes. I've led the line in L2 before, I actually don't remember the first time it happened. There's less shifting around in L2 and classes are smaller so I guess it didn't make that big of an impression on me. But today, not only did I lead the line in the Level 1 class the entire time both before and after stretching and was the only one there teaching during forms, in L2 I was at the front the entire time except for a few moves when Randy was in front of me when the lines merged. But when he had to step to the side during jumping, I was in the front the rest of the class.

It was really interesting to compare the different sensations of being in the front in the two classes. Where you are in line in L2 is really no indicator of your speed/skill/experience to those behind you; I was in front of Han which I think fairly proves my point. Whereas, in L1 generally, the leaders are at least the fastest, if not the most advanced. At the very least they're the ones with the chi/fear of Sifu's scowl to jump to the front of the line. And when you're in the front you feel the responsibility for setting the example, and keeping up the chi, and training as hard as possible. It was an interesting contrast. But more interesting that it took until after L2 was over before I realized that I had led twice in one day and how bizarre that was in the evolution of my KF training. None of it really means anything; you have to keep training harder. But it was fun to spend yesterday in a place I never would have imagined myself a year ago. Can't begin to imagine where I'll be next year!

Fatigue Training

During cleaning meditation after class, Chris came up to me and said, "You have awesome chi." At first, I was like, "Huh? What did you just say?" (I was vacuuming so it was loud) And he said it again, "You have awesome chi." All I could stammer out was, "Uh...yeah! You too man!" What I wanted to say was, "You have way more chi than I do. Dude, you got 'pop' in your caijiao, while mine is more of a fizzle." In case you don't know Chris, he is the dancer dude that flies through the air with mega-extensions and mega-pop on every move.

I was really surprised he said that to me because I felt my chi was relatively low throughout class. I wasn't about to pass out but I wasn't about to run a marathon afterwards either. During class, I kept trying to get my chi up by chanting "More chi!" Maybe he overheard me. Maybe he felt me trying to psych myself up. Maybe he was giving me words of encouragement. Whatever the reason, it made me think. Other than a great saying, does "More Chi! Train Harder!" have a scientific psychological response? I got out my handy internet search machine, and presto! I have a neat little answer.

After reading the article, I can't wait to push myself harder. More Chi! Train Harder!

Winter Training

Is training at temple affected by the weather? Or is the reason people show up to train as arbitrary and random as a falling snowflake? Today was my first time back in over 3 weeks and being a Thursday night, I was expecting to see at least 30 people. What I saw when I walked in surprised me. There were only about 12 people at 6:45pm and by the time classes started, there were 16 total. At dinner afterwards, I posed the same question to Richu, Sucheela, and Rob. Richu said because it was cold, people stay home. Can this be true? Wouldn't it be easier to train when the temple is not over heated like it is in the summertime when each gasp of humid air is like punch in the face with a sweaty sock?

Maybe it's all a matter of preference. I love winter training. Actually, I love summer training too. I wish we could train outside where we can experience the randomness of mother nature. It would remind us that life is not always the same. It is sometimes bitter (苦), sometimes spicy (辣), sometimes sour (酸), sometimes sweet (甜). It is up to us to experience all that life has to offer and not shy away at the first sign of difficulty or change. Easier said than done of course, when it would be so wonderful to be nice and toasty in bed underneath a warm blanket. Ahhhh!!! No! No! No sleepy style! Must train harder!! :D

Singles Night-Shaolin Style

I will admit I went to training last night with low expectations. I knew a lot of people would be taking the night off for Valentine's Day and I already had a list of folks I knew wouldn't be there. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to enjoying a low-key class with the few and strong who showed up. Funny how things never work out as you expect....

Class was outstanding. At 14 people it wasn't huge but it wasn't the anticipated ghost town either. Randy was there providing his characteristic inspirational chi, and that set the ball rolling for me. First he helped me work on kip ups for half an hour before class (inspired by Mo's success I am soooooooo close), then Huan arrived and we messed around with tornado kicks till class started. Class itself was great, everyone was in a fun mood and it filled the room with energy. At stretching I was able to sink my straddle lower than ever, and even allowed them to give me a little push....

Maybe it was the Valentine's sugar I indulged in, but I felt so peppy the entire class and it went with me all the way home. I missed not having the usual posse there, but it was great to find the chi with other people and celebrate the holiday doing what we love. Hope those of you who didn't make it had a great Valentine's!

Family Victory

Thanks to the pre-class kip-up training initiated (and encouraged) by Heng Ji, followed by the targeted corrections made by Heng De during class, I finally landed Liyu Dating tonight, not once, but twice, and not just the first kip-ups but also the head-flips.

I credit all of us with the victory. I was really surprised when I landed solidly again and again. And though I'm sure it's not the most graceful looking thing-- one must walk before one can run after all-- I know refinement will come.

For now, I'm just going to enjoy the happy feeling I have about moving forward, taking a risk, using momentum, pushing a bit harder, not over-thinking, and landing on my feet. I can't wait to try it again on Friday. Thanks for all the cheering! Amituofo!

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

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.

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!