The fine line between Hard and Stupid…

One would think that after many years of military training and life experiences, I would have a decent grasp of the fine line between hard and stupid? I paused the other day to think about this after my second day of training. Saturday was day #2 and Sunday was day #3. In total, I spent 12 hours at the Dojo over the weekend. So, did I choose Hard or Stupid? Allow me to set the scene.

Before the start of my training, I visited a couple of Kendo stores and saw among all the equipment available were comfort items such as knee pads and cushioned feet padding, specifically for Iaido. I thought to myself, “ahh, the items no true warrior would get caught with.” I wrote about the seiza (kneeling) position in a previous post which I experienced right from the get-go during day #1. While it was extremely uncomfortable, I felt it was something my body would get used to.

The six hours I spent each on Saturday and Sunday were split between Kendo and Iaido. Iaido is the Japanese martial art that trains a person, both body and mind, how to use the katana. I felt it would help with my kendo training, along with the fact that I recently came into possession of an antique katana from the 1590s. Why not learn how to use it properly? I also felt Iaido would provide another venue to apply mental skills training for me to exercise the different tools I have studied during my Graduate program in Performance Psychology.

So, the fine line between hard and stupid? The majority of time in Iaido is spent in the seiza position. Not only is the position ultra-uncomfortable, but the bone (knees and instep of the feet) to hard floor contact also made life enjoyable. Oh, as we were getting dressed for Iaido following Kendo training, one of the Sensei asked if I had brought knee pads? He said they all used them, and it was a “must-have” for training. Still, the rebel in me internally told myself that “old-school” mindset was the way to go, and I would be okay. That was a B-I-G negative.

Saturday night, after making my way back to the apartment, I took a steaming shower and made a direct trip to a sporting goods store. At that point, I didn’t care if the knee pads would cost $100 for a pair, I wasn’t going to choose “stupid” for the following day of training. The thought process I applied in not choosing equipment to aide my practice, in this case, comfort equipment was indicative of a common approach of mine to training in general.

I journaled about it as I think there is some work needed in that area personally. I believe many of the “hard” methods have worked for me in developing character, discipline, and a healthy mental approach, especially in my prior profession. I also recognize at times, it has communicated an expectation to those I led. Sure, there have been positive examples, but I have seen cases where I inadvertently messaged an expectation that didn’t need to be. It would have been better in those instances had I been able to address “why” the hard approach was essential where it applied. I think this incident and capturing it in writing was vital for me in going forward.

As a consultant, coach, dad, or husband, I need to have a balanced approach weighing the pros and cons of things. Am I being hard, stupid, applying grace, or challenging them? In this case, having knee, ankle, and back issues because I was refusing to embrace a training aid or equipment could possibly hamper my personal development and performance. And, yes, the Sunday session was much better having a 1/4 to 1/2 padding between my knees and the hard floor. I was able to focus more on developing balance and strength in muscle groups that were not accustomed to specific movements versus trying to block out pain as if I was being tortured.

Oh, and the last word on the seiza position (for today) was that I had been performing it incorrectly. Go figure? While the position is painful enough, the manner in how I was executing it was “cheating” as I was favoring a method to alleviate some discomfort. Of course, I was corrected and, from that point, expected to execute correctly. Does positioning really matter? I reflected back to military free-fall training and doing table drills. It is a critical component to flying through the air, and poor posture could hamper the individual’s performance and even cause harm to themself or those around them. So, with that approach, I seiza on.

The Kendo portion incorporated working strikes with the shinai. The first session had me executing attacks with and without an opponent. The weekend sessions involved performing them with an opponent prepared to strike back. Learning commands and visual cues that signaled an opening for an attack was also practiced repeatedly. I immediately gained equipment appreciation as I got cracked in the head, wrist, and body area many times. This was part of a drill, and while it wasn’t full speed, I was able to get an appreciation of an effective technique versus muscling the shinai towards an opponent’s area. When a 170-pound practitioner utilizing sound technique cracks you with a bamboo shinai, you know it!

I was very pleased that the Sensei allowed me to record some of the drills and techniques after the training session. I wanted to document what “right” looked so that I could review video on the days we weren’t training. I am aware of the similarities between Kendo techniques and other performance-related acts such as shooting, swinging a bat in baseball, or driving a golf ball. Many skills are coming into play during those acts. Focusing on certain parts will allow me to enhance performance by building fluidity and speed, body awareness, energy use, and decision making among other things

The weekend was absolutely incredible. By mid-day on Sunday (session #3), I felt accepted in the Dojo and more of a regular than the “new-guy.” I had an incredible invitation presented to me after Sunday’s training, which I will write about in a post tomorrow. It was incredible for the “white-belt” in me to experience. It provided me an example of leadership in action extended to me by the Kancho, the Head of the Dojo.

Pat