Tag Archives: fencing

Rust and Introspection

armour

Well, this blog had gathered some dust, hasn’t it?

There are several reasons for that, chief among them my growing lack of motivation to do, well, anything. I haven’t exactly been lazy – I still spend at least four hours a week in the boxing gym and I’m still being as careful as I can afford to be about what I eat – yet my heart is not really in it any more.

Also, I have mostly been spending my time boxing and, while it is one of the most challenging combat sports out there, there really isn’t much to say about the training. I work out really hard, my hooks and upper cuts still need work and I often screw up the timing when I’m trying to slip straight shots. Apart from that, I basically do the same fashion of drills I used to do when I was fencing, except I’m learning how to use my fists. It’s fairly routine – just a constant ironing out of my techniques and a slow climb towards better form.

As for writing; I haven’t penned more than a handful of pages in four months. I simply haven’t had any ideas for any kind of story since the end of the summer. This week marks the first time I actually had an idea pop into my head that made me immediately start scribbling notes.

However, let’s deal with the martial arts side of things for now.

I used to love martial arts for its own sake. I loved training and I loved sparring and I loved learning new things just because I thought it was the coolest cat in the pet shop. I don’t seem to have much of  that enthusiasm left these days. Basically, I can’t really answer to myself WHY I’ve been doing it all these years, and why I’m still spending all my free time sweating.

The problem, I’ve decided, is that I have no real goal to strive towards. When I was younger, simply getting better was a good enough reason to keep me coming back. Yet as it is, I am getting dangerously close to thirty years of age and I want some actual final product to be working towards. The training I have been doing for the last six years has not included any kind of rank examinations, so I don’t have any kind of physical tests to prepare for. In, say, karate, I could always be working towards that next belt or what have you, but were no belts in Scatha and there are no real rankings in western boxing.

The only current challenge I have at the moment is to get good enough at boxing to feel confident enough to actually enter the ring for some amateur fights, but I know that it is still months away from happening and is a rather vague notion in and of itself. Not to mention I don’t intent to make a career out of boxing, since A) I like my face in one piece and B) I’m a bit old to start now.

I’m tempted to try and find some way to go back to Duello and train for the next rank there. Somebody must have surpassed the rank of red cord since my day, mustn’t they? I can’t remember that the next level was after red – when I was training there, nobody except the head instructors were rated any higher. I wonder who’s at the top of the pile now… Anyway, I don’t think I have the time or the money to pursue that right now.

This also brings me to the next hiccup – I often feel a sense of weariness when I think of western martial arts. Basically, I’m tired of talking about it and hearing people talk about it. I simply can’t muster the energy to be enthusiastic about this-and-that-fencing-hullabaloo any more. I’ve been thinking, writing and trying out new training techniques for the better part of eight years, and I’ve been talking about WMA for nearly ten – and I feel totally exhausted by the whole thing at the moment.

All I want to do is keep my head down, work hard and get the job done. I’ve lost the eccentric desire to create something new in favour of simply trying to concentrate on bettering my own skills and fitness in whichever ways seem the most appropriate at the time.

As I think I’ve mentioned before, I no longer have any desire to take a leadership role in martial arts. If, for whatever bizarre reason, someone asked me to teach rapier or sabre I might consider it. But in regards to my skills as a whole, I have come to accept that I simply don’t have the experience to be an instructor, neither in my over-all martial ability nor in my social practices. My nature, at this moment, is to be a good soldier, not a charismatic leader. That may change some day, or maybe it won’t. Maybe I will always be best suited to be a tool rather than a craftsman.

That is a depressing notion, really…

Anyhow, I am constantly nagged by the question of ‘WHY?’ This had been compounded by the fact that I have essentially scrapped all my dreams and ambitions of the last few years out of a sense of pragmatism. I’m not young any more, and I have never earned a decent wage in my life. I’m still trapped by a job I’m bored to death of because I can’t afford to start over at another job that offers less money and I don’t have the skills to apply for a job that makes noticeably more.

I used to hold myself together with fantasies of being a writer who ran a martial arts school. I’d eventually retire to a country house and bash out novels. I’d sit there contently smoking my pipe and feeling like I created something worthwhile. I was riding the crest of what I thought was a decent sized wave of progress.

Today I couldn’t tell you how I ever believed I was capable of that.

When Scatha shut its doors it was the second time I had to start over, only this time I was totally on my own. It took me a long time to accept it, but I simply don’t have it in me to do that again right now. Not for two or three years at any rate. I’ve run out of schemes and ingenious plans and have to face up to the fact that I’m just going to have to work hard with nobody around to see it.

Objectively speaking I am a twenty-eight year old male who’s accomplishments include general good fitness, a certain adeptness at violence, and an ability to describe events with decent prose. My shortcomings are that I have no plans for the future that I can put my finger on, I have no career to speak of and I have a social circle the size of a dime.

It’s not exactly being a superhero, is it?

So all I can do it keep looking for a new job and keep trying to find a new way to motivate myself in my training while I ride out the rest of this rather bleak winter of introspection.

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In The End…

I don’t think there is any single reason why the Combat Guild idea failed, nor do I think it was the fault of any one person. I think all four of us came up short in at least one task, myself possibly more than anyone. There were plenty of little errors or shortcomings that popped up here and there.

Before I mention why we fell apart, I will mention some of the things we did right; a) We almost always managed to get a 50/50 ratio of male and female students, which is rare in any combat art.

b) We saw a great deal of improvement in all our students’ body awareness and agility and,

c) We were doing something nobody had done before.

However, that wasn’t quite enough to keep things going forever.  The key ingredients in our collapse were thus;

We never wrote a final business plan because we never really finalized what our business actually was. The ideas kept evolving regularly enough that we never nailed down exactly what we were proposing to be in therms of a company. This meant that we never applied to get any kind of financial aid to secure a better location, and we never had a distinctive ‘product’ to advertise. That said, some of our advertising ideas were great, in my opinion. I still really love the mini-business cards we made that featured nothing except a small picture of us doing something awesome on one side and a sage piece of stoic advice on the other, accompanied by our logo and our website address.

Secondly, we began to drift off in terms of our own goals, and we often found ourselves to not be on the same page as each other. Randy began really developing his gymnastic fitness program, which I was only partially involved in. As such I often felt like I was in the dark about what was going to happen next, and wished I knew more about his plans. Also, while I liked the gymnastic conditioning, I wanted to spend a little more time teaching specific martial arts techniques as well. Some days we would spend nearly the entire three hours of a class doing agility exercises and only a few minutes of actually hitting stuff. Now, while this was a great workout, it was often leaving me feeling unfulfilled since I don’t actually like working out all the time as much as I like fighting and drilling techniques.

There were also several projects that were started and not completed, notably the steampunk self-defence manual (which may yet see the light of day). There was also a morning class in Vancouver which, while it did happen, usually resulted in grumpiness and no actual students. Holly hated showing up for it, which became plain, and while I tried to always attend it did start to seem pointless when we had nobody to teach.

In the end, I felt like there wasn’t much point of me being around in general. Randy was a more experienced instructor, and I wasn’t arguing that, but I felt like I was becoming superfluous to the whole scheme. I rarely really taught anything anymore and, not that it matters on a philosophical scale, but I could tell that the few students we had didn’t really have that much respect for me. I would sometimes offer a piece of advice, see them totally ignore it, and then see Randy offer the same advice to which they would immediately adhere. Now, I won’t kid myself that most of this is my fault for not stepping up as a leader, but it was still an uncomfortable place to be.

It was frustrating; I wanted to trust Randy since I had watched him come up with new and effective idea for the last six and a half years, but I also felt like I had no idea what was going on and didn’t really need to be present. I tried to get opportunities to teach more, but that would mean shifting back to the skills I felt confident teaching – which had started to be phased out of the curriculum.

I started trying to get a second night of the week where I taught totally separate arts, mostly sabre. This was held in the same location as the morning classes, but at a more accessible hour. It was in Coopers Park, which has the advantage of a large, covered area for rainy days. I kept this practice going for a few months, working with Holly either on Hutton sabre or the 5×5’s. I tried to drum up at least two students to participate with Facebook groups and the like, but in the end it had the same result as the morning class and nobody ever showed up more than once.

Coopers Park

Then Randy surprised me.

He offered to give me solo control over the Tuesday night class, to which he would not even attend anymore. The regular class would be mine, and he would work on his own thing in a location nearer his home.

I didn’t really know what to say to this. My initial response was guilt, since I felt like he at least had a plan in his head and I wasn’t sure I did, and therefore it seemed like I should have been the one to leave. This outcome was not at all what I wanted, really. I wanted us to work together and come up with something we both felt comfortable with, not to take over on my own. So as such, I largely blamed myself for this turn of events and counted the dispersal of our group as my failure.

But I said yes anyway. I’m honestly not sure why anymore. I believe I still had enough faith in myself to pull everything thing together and piece it back into what I had originally imagined. I felt bad that we had shattered as a team, but I was determined to write up a full curriculum that did justice to both our teaching methods anyhow. There had been a few days prior to my would-be inaugural take over where I felt that I had run good classes, so I started to feel like I was up to the challenge.

I can’t remember how far I got in revamping my whole plan, since it effectively never saw the light of day. I did a full blog on the first class I was to teach at the time, which can be found here; https://scienceofdefence.wordpress.com/2011/07/08/snap/

The short version is that my insecurities were confirmed, and not a single one of our regular students (few of them though there were) showed up for my first class. After working out essentially by myself for half an hour, Holly and I informed the woman who ran the location that we would not be coming back in the foreseeable future, and we made plans to pick up all the gear we had stored there. That gear is still sitting in my basement storage locker.

There were some other attempts to restart things, or to shift to something else, but they came not to fruition. Holly and I tried to at least work out together a few times a week to keep everything going in our minds, but she eventually grew frustrated with only working with me. It soon became apparent that she had no interest in training unless she had another partner closer to her own skill level, so it was only a matter of time before we stopped working together.

This was a particularly dark time, since this left me with no outlet for my martial arts passions. Eventually I stopped trying and just developed my previous workout routine, focusing somewhat begrudgingly on just getting fit without  beating people up at all. I suppose a better part of a year passed in this way; solitary exercise with none of the camaraderie or focus that I had grown used to over the previous eight years.

I started attending the fight nights at Academie Duello to get a little practice in and to make sure to didn’t atrophy completely, which was the beginning of a rebound. Still, my ego was remained pretty squashed and I had no confidence in ever stepping into a leadership role again.

I also decided to get back in to fencing shape and participate in a mini-tournament Duello was hosting, which was educational. Back in the earlier days of my fencing career, I had always had a problem with my tournament mindset. I would often do terribly in competition because it took me too long to actually warm up and feel competitive. However, this time I shifted gears perfectly. Since then I have noticed that, whenever I decide I want to win, my fight brain clicks in immediately and I fence exceptionally well.

However, it also proved another point to me; I really don’t enjoy winning for the same of winning. I love victory, but I want to feel like I have worked for it, like I have earned it. My first match in the tournament lasted about four or five seconds. It was a two-out-of-three match, and I decided to be sporting and only fight with a single sword since my opponent held no dagger. I landed my first shot with my favourite off-hand slap to the tip followed by a falso dritto cut to the left temple. My second touch was a simple lunge, cavare, counter-cavare ending in  thrust to the shoulder.

And that was that, the first bout was done in less that ten seconds and I was on to the next round. It did nothing for me.

Unlike the rest of the people fighting, I spent the time before my next bout constantly moving and bouncing, making sure I didn’t cool down.

In my next match I felt somewhat guilty about how rapidly I had won the previous one. (Yes, I can manage to feel guilty for winning.) Because of this I was careful to call back any shot I didn’t feel I landed perfectly, and fought s little less aggressively. In the end I lost in a close exchange of hits. I won’t say that I lost on purpose, but I feel like I could have won the second bout as well if I had not been so self-conscious of ploughing through the last fighter. I also thought I would have a third bout to balance it out, but it turned out that was it for me in the tournament.

I would also like to add that I am not belittling the skill of both fighters. They both fought very well, though I daresay they were not used to fighting against someone with my style of fencing, which is quite different than what they usually dealt with.

I had fun and enjoyed the night, but it did prove that rapier tournaments were never going to be my thing, even if I won them. I love rapier, and I love fighting and sparring with good people – but the all fuss and muss of tournaments just doesn’t gratify me when the actually fights often come down to a few scant seconds.

Then, this summer, I decided ask my mother to make my only birthday present a membership at the boxing gym. It was a toss up between boxing or Capoeira, since both arts contained aspects I wanted to work on. In the end boxing was the more logical choice since a) it was more direct and practical, b) the facilities were open to me as often as I wanted and I didn’t have to worry about attending regular classes at set times during the week and c) it cost a fraction of what Capoeira training would.

So what is my plan now?

I’m trying to keep up with my gymnastic routine from SCG at least once a week, and I’m boxing at least three hours a week, sometimes five. I’d like to up that number to six and a half, but I’m still juggling the rest of my life at the moment. (Plus summer tends to distract one with all those fun, outdoor activities.) I’m actually in better shape than I was before, having dropped nearly 20 lbs over this year of exile and increased my endurance considerably.

I would like to spend the next year boxing more and more, and my plan is to try and have thee or four actual fights at some point. I don’t necessarily want to try and make a career our of boxing, since I like my face the way it is, but I’d like to see if I have in in my to step into the ring for a little while. If nothing else, getting good at pugilism with help to rebuild my confidence. After a year or so I will start to really feel like I might be qualified to give people advice again in something besides rapier (Which I do still remain pretty secure about in regards to my abilities.)

Yet I often get nostalgic for the whole Scatha thing, and I wish there was some way to bring it back. However, I still think I am too young, despite the fact that I often feel ancient. I would love to try and start up another martial arts school from scratch, but probably not for a few years at least.

I still think we had some brilliant ideas, but I’m not going to act on them again until I’m positive I can do it right.

In the Beginning…

In the beginning, I was a mediocre academic student who’s only real success was a few short stories. About the same time I began studying at Langagra I also started learning Dragon-Style Kung-Fu at the Kerrisdale community centre. I suppose I must have been about twenty years old at the time. It was a class that only ran once a week, and was about ninety minutes in length. My decision was probably as influenced by the popularity of the Matrix films and my love of Bruce Lee as much as anything else.

I did well in my creative writing and literature classes and average-to-poor in just about every other course I took at college. My first year at post-secondary school was fairly enthusiastic. I liked the freedom and the anonymity, I liked meeting (very few) new people, I liked being able to choose the subjects I was interested in. However, by the second year I had exhausted all the courses I actually enjoyed and reached the point where I had to choose things that fit into a program.

Suddenly, I needed direction.

I found that direction in the second part of a Medieval History class when I met Roland Cooper. For better or worse, however, it had nothing to do with what I was doing at Langara.

Roland was one of the very first members of Academie Duello, which at the time consisted of two instructors (Devon Boorman and Randy Packer), I believe two students, and a weekly practice in the leaky covered area of Robson square. (This was many years before they renovated the square back into a functional ice rink, at the time it was uneven cement with a ceiling that didn’t keep out the rain very well.)

He told me about Duello, and I eventually decided to check it out. when I was younger I had a TINY bit of experience training in modern sport fencing, and like most people I was surprised at the realities of using a heavy rapier. The second I was handed a sword to practice with I loved it, which was about five minutes after I showed up. If I remember correctly, I was the third registered student at Duello.

The class grew slowly as we shared the space with the break dancers who used to hang out on the opposite corner of the square. Another friend of mine, Simon Ranier, joined at the same time I did. This effectively doubled the number of students. I can’t remember exactly when Jonathan Whiteley and Chris Moone became regular students. I believe one on them was already there before me and one came shortly after. I do remember that they both had some experience fighting in the SCA so they seemed like super-sword-wizard-masters to me at the time.

Fencing and Kung-Fu didn’t conflict with each other, so I continued to do both, even after Duello started running a second night of classes at Capri Hall on Fraser St. In fact, I cannot distinctly recall when I decided to abandon Asian martial arts and focus entirely on Western ones, but it did happen eventually.

The early Academie Duello crowd posing with Mandy Patinkin (aka Princess Bride’s Inigo Montoya) at Robson Square

I loved what I was doing. I started putting one foot in the SCA in order to compete in a few open tournaments (which introduced me to a whole bunch of people who fought in a completely different way than I was used to), and it wasn’t long before my fencing friends were pretty much my only friends. Swords became my life, and I thought I was the coolest guy in the world for knowing how to use them.I liked being able to say that I was an aspiring swordsman, even though that usually received the reply ‘so, you mean like a pirate?’ or, ‘but weren’t the samurai the best?’.

It was gradual, but Duello kept growing and kept garnering more media attention. After a few years the school started looking into a plan for a permanent location somewhere in the downtown area. There was a period of hunting and planning, but eventually it happened – we acquired the second floor of a old building on Richards St.

There were a lot of renovations that needed to be done before the space was really presentable, and I am ashamed to say I took part in none of them. Nevertheless, we started holding our practices around the rusty railings and holes in the ground as the location became more and more polished.

That room would become the centrepiece of my life for the next three years.

At this point I had utterly abandoned school in favour of swordplay. I still wonder sometimes how differently my life would have turned out if I hadn’t made that reckless decision. Would I have finished a degree, would I have secured a better job? Probably not, to be honest. Schooling had always been an endless, upward struggle for me.

Most people don’t know that I am a little on the learning disabled side, since I primarily come off as eccentric. Yet it is true, I have a good old dose of the ADD, coupled with an almost crippling inability to do anything directly mathematical. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mother utterly exhausted herself to force her children though school, I probably wouldn’t have even managed to get to college. As such, the first seventeen years of my life were a constantly stressful period where I usually felt as if I was beating my head against a wall. The English Language was the only thing I excelled at and, apparently, martial arts for some reason.

Thus, experiencing the fairly foreign sensation of being potentially really good at something, I latched on to that ego-boost completely. It wasn’t long before I was spending four or five days a week at Duello, often barely working enough in my off time to keep myself alive. I was consistently short on rent and I ate a great deal of Kraft Dinner, but I had a sword in my hand every moment I could.

An attempt to run a morning class two days a week eventually led to the formation of the trinity that would define the coming years. The people who regularly showed up at seven in the morning dwindled down to myself, Courtney Rice, and the co-founding instructor of the school, Randy (David) Packer. There were a few other people, notably Clinton Fernandes, who showed up some of the time, but it was the three of us who were there almost without fail.

I cannot really believe that I loved what I was doing so much that I woke up at 6 AM to go down to the fencing salle. I have never been an early riser, and it is a testament to the times that I got up that early twice a week when I didn’t really have to.

At this point I was a ‘red cord’ at the school. This was the highest rank that any of the students had achieved at the time (and I think still). The camaraderie between Randy and myself had developed into a actual friendship, and I gradually came to be regarded as his assistant instructor. After the morning classes the school ostensibly stayed open until 10 PM, and on Monday’s and Wednesdays we were there pretty much that whole time. Courtney would sometimes have to leave for work, returning in the evenings. Between those times, Randy and I spent an about seven hours in the salle, often remaining for another few hours to take part or instruct the evening classes.

Those were long days.

We ran small afternoon classes, reviewed curriculum for things Randy wanted to teach, brainstormed new drills, experimented with techniques, or just fought amongst ourselves.

As I mentioned in a previous post, my personal life was a wreck at this time. I was broke, hungry and even more socially unsure of myself than I am now. Yet despite all that, there were these little pockets of time on those long, quiet days that were perfect.

Fighting in the morning and then sharing a sip of good rum and smoking a pipe of smooth tobacco on a warm, summer afternoon… Tiny little minutes where things just seemed so good. (“All those moments will be lost in time…like tears in rain.” Sorry, I love that scene in Blade Runner.)

I think one of the most valuable things to come out of this period was the Palestra classes. (Palestra was the name of the gymnasium for martial artists and athletes in ancient Greece. Randy has since coined the phrase Palestrics to mean any athletic or martial activity done with a partner.)

These were hour-long conditioning classes that occurred just before the regular evening classes on Monday and Wednesday. The idea behind them was to create a long, intense workout that would help to condition students for any kind of martial art they might wish to train in. While we had limited equipment to work with, Randy never failed to come up with something exhausting and challenging for the few of us who submitted to this hour.

Though my approach to training has changed quite a bit over the years, I still thank those early days on Palestra for my general work ethic. It taught me that ‘pain don’t hurt’, to quote Roadhouse. It was probably the first time in my life that I really started to work out as well as practising martial arts techniques, and it set the bar for the rest of my career in that area.

Now, a slight aside; Despite this generally bad-ass work ethic, I have never once in my life enjoyed working out. I LOVE fighting, sparring, slow work, combat drills, even hitting the punching bag – but I very much do not, and have not ever, liked working out. I sometimes like the social atmosphere that comes from exercising with friends, but I was the kid who only attended enough gym classes to pass and then skipped the rest to go read somewhere. While it’s true I love the sense of satisfaction that comes at the end of the routine, working out is all about the destination and not the journey for me. I push myself to do the best I can because I want the benefits that come from it.

There are some I dislike less than others, but even the gymnastic, cartwheel, acrobatic stuff is not really all that fun for me. Like anything else in life you love doing, working out is the side of martial arts that I do because I must, not because I want to.

Enough digression, back to the reminiscing;

There we were, the Kings and Queens of cool. We had an intense conditioning workout, long days in the salle, and as much swordplay as anyone could ever want. Things were good. I felt that we all had a a plan and life was looking up.

That plan didn’t work out quite the way we had thought…

TO BE CONTINUED

Boxing: Day One/Two

On Wednesday I signed up for  a year’s membership at Sugarray’s boxing club in downtown Vancouver. The school, run like a good old-fashioned boxing club,  held several attractions for me: First of all, it was a short bike ride away from my apartment. Second of all all, considering most martial arts institutions charge about $100 a month for training, $300 for a year’s worth of unlimited access was a really good deal. Third, I can use the gym portion of the facilities 24/7, and I got a nifty little fob key to let myself in. They also have coaches there from 7AM to 11PM, and there are no classes. I can show up any time I want and pretty much get private lessons, as often as I can manage. And finally; because it’s boxing, and what’s not to love about that?

Friday I finally had the time to go in and work out, and I plan on going at least two more times this week.

This first experience was pretty much what I expected – I sucked.

Fortunately, I have spent enough time trying different martial arts that I knew the first day was pretty much going to amount to me embarrassing myself no matter what I did, so I was ready for that. It’s all part of the game; you do one thing, you get comfortable, you get cocky, you try something else, you realize you don’t know anything. Rinse and repeat.

As far as I’m concerned, that is the hardest part of starting a martial art. Sure there are the hours of sweat and frustration and pain that come after – but that’s nothing compared to walking in that first day and knowing you are going to look like a idiot. (Luckily the club atmosphere meant I had as little an audience as possible.) So, the hard part is over; it’s all a slightly less steep uphill from here.

However, I actually take this as encouragement.

Even in the awkward 90 minutes I was there tonight, I saw myself get a little better. In many ways it reminds me of those early days at Duello, and not just because  of the brick and rafter downtown location. For a while, several years ago, I was training with my swords for nearly five days a week. Even though my personal life was a shambles, those long days when Randy and I worked on different fencing styles for hours on end were probably one of the high points of my existence. It was the only period in my life when I got up early and felt a sense of purpose at what I was planning to do. True, I was was nearly starving (often surviving on multivitamins and single slices of pizza) and rarely paid rent on time, but I thought I had  a plan.

So I will start again at something new. For the first few months I will try to spend all my spare time there, until I feel like I have the basics of modern boxing down. Then I will get better. It will take a while, but my other experiences fighting have at least made me a fairly fast learner so it won’t be TOO long. Eventually it will come naturally. Eventually the staff will only offer small corrections. Eventually I’ll feel like I’m pretty good at it. Until then it will be the same hard work that martial arts has always been, and the same drive to push myself harder.

I also anticipate a lovely side effect of increased confidence, which I could very much use. Many the night has wiled away with me feeling lazy because I’m not doing any serious martial arts training anymore. The training I have done has always been an allegory for the rest of my life. working hard to succeed in something visceral becomes a template for working hard to succeed in other areas of your life.

Oh yeah, and I may actually talk to people and possibly acquire – what are those things called again? Oh right, ‘friends‘. Let’s not set the bar TOO high, though.

So, here we go again…

DAY TWO;

Today I went back in to the gym for my second time. There were a few people training upstairs, and I was feeling a little anti-social, so I decided I would just work out on my own in the basement. I may be flattering myself, but after spending the last two days thinking about the results of my first lesson, I think I have at least wrapped my head around the subtle shift in body mechanics. Though I still have to think about what I am doing, and will for at least a few weeks, I know what I am supposed to be doing at any rate.

I spent four rounds hitting the bag (12 minutes), a little while jabbing the speed bag, and a couple more minutes using the weights. All in all I was only there for about thirty-five minutes, but after a year away from this kind of training, that seemed sufficient for a start.

My conclusion after this half an hour is that my jab sucks. While my right arm is still very speedy from all the fencing and knife fighting, my left lacks the kind of quick snap needed for a modern jab. So there is something to work on first and foremost.

I will be back in the gym tomorrow, and this time I plan to work with an instructor again. I am determined to have all the basics of modern boxing down in the next couple months, and then I can really work on getting better.

Progress is fun.

Still Here

Yup, still here.

I have been meaning to use this blog again for quite some time. However, I find it really uninteresting to write about the kind of day-to-day things that I can’t imagine anyone being interested in reading. I starting this site to talk about things pertaining to my interests and projects, and I’m still fighting against ever making it too personal or mundane.

I do however have several projects on the go right now, so I shall explain those;

First of all the Steampunk self-defence manual is not dead. As per its final wishes, it was rushed to our privatized cryogenics facility to be put on ice until the time comes for it to be revived and resuscitated by future technology. Well, that time has (almost) arrived.

I was talking to a few of the folks over at Academie Duello and the subject of the steampunk manual came up. I had somewhat forgotten about  the idea, locked away as it was in its icy tomb, but the chats prompted me to think about it again.  Hearing some of the ideas, suggestions and encouragements I received when I showed them some of the work I had already done, I began to rethink the concept a little. I now have what I believe to be an improved plan for the book, and a much more accessible scheme for completing it.

So why, you may ask, have I not started work on the photo shoots needed to publish the book? Laziness! Pure, undiluted laziness. Photo shoots require people-planing and group organizing, and I will opt for solo writing work every time. I am going to begin gathering people for the photo though, just not quite yet. For one, I’m waiting for the weather to level out enough to make the picture taking easier to plan.

The second project I have going is a screenplay. This is more straightforward, as I am just doing the age-old traditional lack of creativity and adapting a samurai movie into a western. I will not say which Japanese film I’m adapting because IT’S MINE, GET YOUR OWN! I will say that writing western dialogue is really, really fun. I think my bad-ass lady gun/knife fighter protagonist is one of the most fun characters I’ve come up with in terms of enjoying writing about them.

There is a second screenplay in the works as well. Many a year ago, Randy Packer and I penned a script for a period drama about old English martial arts. The concept was great, but the story itself never really came out as well as we had hoped. Now, more than half a decade later, we started thinking about it again. We begun the preliminary planning for writing the idea totally from scratch again, though we both seem to have gone off on our individual ideas for the time being. Once I’m finished with my western script, however, I will definitely push to renew our collaboration on the fencing story.

But what about martial arts?

That subject has been causing me much grief lately. I never do manage to be satisfied by working in just one field. If I’m writing a lot, even if I’m working out on my own all the time, I still feel like I’m wasting away as a martial artist.

And that thought does kill me a little.

As far as I know, the whole Scatha Combat Guild plan is still dead. I would like to make the argument that it is also in cryogenic suspension until the world is ready for it, but I’m not sure that would be true. There is no space, and no attempt to run classes or practices. That, as far as martial arts schools go, is pretty succinctly dead.

Not that I wouldn’t love to do that again, I miss it just about every day. However, as I stand right now I have no faith in myself to try and start from nothing for what would essentially be the third time.

I have come to accept the fact that I simply do not inspire people to want to follow me. It’s hard to define, but no matter how hard I try I never achieve the kind of charisma that makes people want to learn what I know. Over the years the only way I seem to be able to earn people’s respect is by being a hard-ass, but then I just end up making students dislike me.

Maybe in another ten years I’ll figure it out, but for now I just have to come to terms with the fact that I’m not head-instructor material.

Another little insecurity I have as to my qualifications is the fact that I never really trained in a art with a recognized ranking system. Now, personally I don’t think the standard ‘belt’ system of most arts is actually a good way to rank students. Nonetheless, whenever I mention that I used to teach martial arts one of the first questions I get is something along the lines of “Do you have a black belt”. This of course, gets the rather awkward answer of trying to explain how a progressive style works and how I have no real title to explain my experience level.

That can be a little annoying.

In the meantime I will probably look into getting back into boxing training or some such in order to make sure I stay in practice. I was sparring at Duello on the odd Friday (though I took a month off from that), but I do often miss the visceral satisfaction of just punching things.

Speaking of fencing though, there is another tournament at Duello coming up that I think I can register to fight in. The question is; do I want to? I competed in a small one at the end of April, and I found it rather anti-climactic how little time I actually spent fighting. Even when I won, I felt it happened so quickly that I didn’t really enjoy it. I like to feel like I’ve really worked for my victories, which is why I usually chose to fight at least ten passes with someone if I can. However, my first fight probably totaled about fifteen seconds worth of actual engagement and my second fight wasn’t all that much longer.

Rapier tournaments were never really something I liked. I love fighting for the love of fighting, and I love fighting to win against another opponent – but I like it to be more of a true test of skill and training, and a few seconds at a time doesn’t seem to qualify for that.  I think bear-pit style tournaments were the only ones I really enjoyed.

So, in conclusion;

I’m getting back into writing, I’m staying in very good shape and I really would like to be able to teach the 5×5 system again because I thought it was absolute genius on our part and I loved watching students learn that way.

End transmission.

A Winter in Review

Well, hullo then.

I haven’t used this blog in some time – a few months in fact. There are several reasons for that, though most of them are feeble as excuses. The first and most poignant was NANOWRIMO. For those who are not aware, the acronym in question is a national novel writing competition. The goal is to write a fifty thousand word book within the month of November. Such a task required the majority of my attention. Afterwords, well, followed much less productivity than I would have liked.

And so, a winter in review;

As I mentioned, November began with my second attempt at a thirty day novel. I managed to pull a basic story idea involving a historical/fantasy plot that was based around the court intrigues of Elizabethan England. (Why I am consistently foolish enough to start deadline projects with ridiculously complicated stories I shall never know.) On the whole, the novel writing frenzy began with the wind at my back and my sails propelling me forward with great haste. Contrarily, it ended with a slow sinking into the black waters of northern seas after being viciously and suddenly attacked by Nordic pirates.

I barely made it halfway, though I did churn out some decent chapters here and there. (At the end of my last attempt, two years ago, I at least managed to make it to forty-thousand words) Sadly, I allowed three very long shifts at work exhaust me. Never managing to catch up on those sad, couple-hundred-word-count days, my novel petered out and was no more.

At first, I was all afire to start another writing project – one that was less hurried. Unfortunately, I am one of those people who works best under a little pressure. So my daily writing habits slowly declined into, well, no writing habits. In fact, I have fallen into a horrific tendency of doing absolutely nothing with the first three hours of my day. For this I feel no end of shame.

On the plus side, I did spend that uncreative time altering my diet and exercise routines. Rather I should say; maintaining the alterations I made at the end of the summer. Currently I weigh less than I ever have in my adult life, and have kept a sufficient amount of my muscle mass in doing so. In fact, I am very nearly able to say that I have actually achieved the more vain aspects of my fitness goals. That is, however, all I shall say about that. After all, there is nothing more boring than listening to someone talk about their own weight loss. I suppose, as un-stoic as it is, personal improvement seems more relevant when it is made known to others.

How insecure we all are.

As to the subject of martial arts, that tale runs along similar lines. While I find the time every few weeks to visit the open fight nights at Academie Duello, I have no practice of my own anymore. The Friday fencing bouts keep me adept and satisfy my cravings to stab at people, but I do miss both instructing and learning the material to which I am most inclined. Bartitsu, in particular, is something I would love to be able to work on again. And sabre.

(Incidentally, there was also that whole Steampunk Self-Defence Manual plan. That book, by the way, was actually completed as far as the text is concerned, and still sits waiting on my computer. However, the disbandment of SCG’s regular classes left me without anyone to help demonstrate the techniques in the photos. And so…)

Perhaps, once the weather becomes more clement, I will try and re-start an outdoor practice of one of these things. If I really put effort in I might be able to secure one student. Maybe two. The real issue is figuring out what I actually want to do with martial arts. What focus do I want to take? I have no clue really. It’s been nearly a decade since I first started training, and all my plans to make a living out of it have become somewhat prone to failure.

Yet I refuse to be maudlin. I still have almost ten years of experience, some of which is in branches of fighting very few people are familiar with. That is certainly nothing to sneeze at. I just need a plan. I’ve always been able to concoct schemes within a set of parameters, but when it comes to plotting out the rest of my own life… That, I must admit, has me at a loss more often than not.

The threat of my thirtieth birthday looms ahead like an ominous sunrise of full adulthood. I’d be lying if I said that fact didn’t terrify me almost as much as the notion of… dancing. OK, that was a bit maudlin.

And on that note, I need to go and try and find a new job now.

“My mind rebels at stagnation…”

September has been a very quiet time for me. I don’t much care for it.

All regular classes related to Scatha Martial Arts have been put on hold for the foreseeable future, which will probably extend at least until the end of September. There is still the pending demonstration at the Victoria Steam Exhibition, though I am feeling a little nervous about that as well. I still feel like I should day-trip out there to do the demo that day, but I’m dubious as to how presentational I can be be with only two people. It is possible, of course, but I would have preferred to have actual students accompanying me.

The truth is (as far as I am officially aware) Scatha Martial Arts is just me – all by my lonesome.  There are no students, there are no regular classes, practices or workshops. Just little old me and the stuff I have in my head. I’m not saying that this is the end of everything, but it does mean that I am starting all over again. If I want to pursue this business further I need to go back to beginning and try and get an online presence again, as well as printing off advertisements and posting them up on every street corner. All very possible, but all things I haven’t done yet.

The summer is dwindling away, so the idea of trying to milk the last of the decent weather to try and resume outdoor classes seems more that a little late.  As far as SCG is concerned, the summer was pretty much wasted, and any opportunity I had has long since past. At the end of September I will decide what direction I want to take things, but for now I’m just… Living.

It is a strange feeling. Tuesday, once the constant hub of energetic practices, seems very empty now. I get up whenever I want, I make breakfast leisurely, then I just have the rest of the day open. I still take the time to work out  in one form or another for at least a few hours, but it feels so solitary and directionless. Holly and I still work through techniques sometimes, but the combination of a recent (and somewhat confusing) leg injury and a general decline in interest has left her somewhat dispassionate about martial arts.

The whole ronin, wandering martial artist thing sounds a lot more romantic that it actually is. When you don’t have a picturesque countryside to trek across whilst saving the innocent you pretty much just feel unemployed.

I solved some of my restlessness by making a nostalgic re-appearance to the open fight nights at Academie Duello. The reception I received when I showed up felt positive enough to encourage me to keep stopping by on Fridays. Doing so allows me to get my fencing fix at least, even though I do miss being able to fight with the unarmed Scatha system we came came up with. (Oh, the good old days of the 5x5s…) So at least this way I have an outlet for my pressing desire to fight people that doesn’t cost me anything and doesn’t involve throwing beer bottles at people in crowded bars.

I also did take some time off work to go camping for three days, which was very enjoyable. Alternately relaxing and hiking was a nice way to spend some time. I like making a fire every night, and I miss having a fireplace in which to do it at home. The trip also furthered my wild, crazy dream to someday retire to a self-sufficient farm where I can run long-term martial arts retreats and the like. That would be the life.

Someday….