Exercise

This is a blog detailing my thoughts about Aikido… one would think that talking about exercise wouldn’t be necessary. After, it is a martial art, is it not? You’re supposed to be spending your time running, jumping, throwing, falling, punching, kicking, right? That should keep you in pretty good shape!

Well, it does and it doesn’t.

Some time ago, I noticed something about my aikido practice. I noticed that, for some reason, I wasn’t getting the workout I used to get. What was going on? I wondered. It didn’t take me long to realize the answer was quite simple: as I was improving my technique, I was staying calmer, more relaxed. My movements were becoming more efficient. The number of people I could count on to be my “peers” was growing less and less, so I was often training with folks who were junior than me and counting on me to help them learn. In short, I got better, to the point that the challenge of aikido was not necessary a question of physical fitness, but a question of developing a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me.

This transition, if I can call it that, would not have bothered me so much were it not for two things happening:

1. When I attended camps and seminars, in which there were a lot more people my level or higher, the amount of physical energy I had to exert increased dramatically. I didn’t like the fact that I was getting tired faster.
2. When I started teaching, the time previously allotted to training and working out was consumed by the time required to either teach class or prepare to teach class. To be sure, I did occasionally try to sneak in a workout while I was teaching, but I have some problems with that in an aikido setting–especially one in which there are few students with any experience on the mat. (The short version: I worry that the time I spend trying to get my heart rate up is time I’m not spending either helping my students or ensuring they are practicing safely. I would rather ensure they are practicing safely. Perhaps that is a result of my inexperience as an aikido instructor…)

To be sure, there are other factors that come into play here: I am older now–early 30s as opposed to my early 20s. I am now a father–taking care of my wife and daughter consumes a great deal of my time and attention. My knees and ankles, which have been described as “poorly designed for martial arts” by my physical therapist, can ache quite a bit–in fact, I can’t jog any more because of them. But I was, and am, dissatisfied. I don’t expect to be an olympic-caliber athlete, but I do expect a certain level of physical ability.

So, two months ago, I started to exercise. I’ve progressed to a solid six-day-a-week program. The bulk of my workout is several variations of a cardio workout on my elliptical trainer. Mixed in is a series of exercises employing the use of weights and an exercise ball. The results? Still up in the air. But I’m certainly trimmer than I was two months ago, and I certainly am sore a lot more often as well. But most importantly, I realized something: the physical workout in aikido practice is a side benefit. Of course, most of realize this. The strategies behind aikido focus on positioning and manipulation of our opponent’s posture, not our necessarily our physical prowess. Yet I took this side benefit for granted until I got to the point where it was nearly completely absent.

Perhaps–though I cannot say for sure–this is one of the advantages offered by an art such as Karate or Tae Kwon Do. I cannot imagine participating in those arts without each and every practice session becoming a serious workout. Then again, I have also met several people who study these arts who show little understanding of, or interest in, the calm and relaxed mindset that I think makes aikido such a potent martial art.

It would be interesting, I think, to see how often other martial artists feel that they no longer get the same workout from their practice as they previously did, and what they did to adjust. For my part, I am glad that I am getting into better shape, as it seems to free my mind to look more at my technique and my mindset when I am on the mat.

Of course, no amount of conditioning can match getting thrown across the room; but that’s another post.

Why -am- I doing this, exactly?

A good friend of mine sent me this link, in which the author describes why he trains in the martial arts. One of his key points: there are many who assume that, because we attempt to follow samuari traditions, we want to be samurai ourselves. He counters that we follow these traditions because they help us get closer to whatever objectives we might have.

I found this article to be a very interesting read. It made me realize that one of the driving forces behind my training is not to become a “martial artist” or a “warrior.” It is simply to become the person I want to be. For whatever reason, I have found that I am closest to what I want to be when I am practicing Aikido. It no longer matters why Aikido over other activities; one might as well ask a jazz musician why he chose the saxaphone over the piano.

In one sense, I am rather fortunate: Kokikai Aikido has always struck me as being rather relaxed in its patterns of etiquette. Certainly, there are many martial arts (Japanese or otherwise in origin) that adhere to much stricter patterns of behavior. I find that this relaxed environment has given me the opportunity to explore and understand my own definitions of correct and incorrect behavior, while simultaneously requiring that I learn to adapt to a myriad of other definitions of behavior as established by my sensei, my students, and my colleagues.

This article also helped me, I think, reach a greater understanding of my own teacher. I respect Sensei Bannister greatly, yet I have always realized that his pursuit of budo far outstrips my own aspirations. I admit (for this blog is intended to be a place in which I communicate honestly) that I always felt a bit out of place in his presence. In fact, I often felt frustrated because I knew (and still know) that I could not meet his expectations without alienating my friends and family, let alone risking becoming someone I am not. The road of the samurai is a hard one to travel, and it is not yet one that I am ready to follow.

Now, however, I at least undestand a portion of why Sensei adheres to this code. (I cannot, and will not, claim to know fully. It is not my place.) By following these codes, he becomes the person whom he most wants to be. It is grateful to know that, should the view from the path I am on become insufficient, there are more paths available to me.

As Sensei Maruyama says, “The goal of Kokikai is to maximize your potential.” There are probably many ways in which to accomplish this. I train with this goal in mind; with luck, I teach with this goal in mind as well.