"Good," I told my students, after calling a pause in their repetitions. "That's good enough," I tell them.

"But is 'good enough' really all that good?"

When you have the cable guy come out to hook up your TV and he shows up 2 hours late and takes another hour for what you were told would take 10 minutes, you may call this “good enough”, as he did eventually get you hooked up. When you get to your hotel room and notice that it does have a bed, bathroom, etc., but doesn't look anywhere near as good as the photo you were shown, you may call it “good enough”. But there are times when “good enough” may not or should not be considered “good enough”.

Your kick may be good enough to score a point at a local tournament. But would that same kick (granted it is controlled for safety in the tournament) be effective in a real self-defense encounter? Is it really “good enough” for you?

Your punch seems faster than it was when you first started your training years ago. But the woman next to you seems faster. You may be “good enough” to pass the minimal required criteria on your next kyu or dan exam. But is this good enough for you?

Each person has his or her own priorities and levels of acceptance for different things. If I am in a class and the instructor says “good”, I usually think of that as meaning 'good enough', and then try even harder. My standards are higher than most. And I know when I am doing just enough to do better than the person next to me in line at my dojo. At times like this I sometimes imagine that I am back in Tokyo, next to people training at a level beyond what I am letting myself settle for.

Is traveling to Japan to train the answer? Will that make us good enough to be really "good enough"? It depends on what you want to get out of your training. For some people, putting the extra effort into traveling to a different location to focus on training might really help. For others, just focusing more on training at the home dojo might be the better answer. (For more on this, please see articles on Training in Japan and Gung-ho Training)

This is not to say that we should never be happy with our performance. If we are not happy during training, we are not doing it right! Karate should be, overall, an enjoyable activity. No need to get frustrated during every exercise. But are our standards as high as they should be? Are we sometimes letting 'good enough' be our goal?

As also explained in my Challenge article, we must push ourselves. It should not always be up to the instructor/coach to push us. This self-challenging can involve pushing ourselves to go a little faster or train a little harder or more often. But it can also involve taking a hard look at ourselves to assess our technical performance (see articles on Video Training and Look & Feel in Kihon for more on this subject).

Let's strive to be good. But when we can, let's try to be better than just "good". Let's try to be outstanding!


Copyright © 2005, Jon Keeling

Who in your dojo/area/organization gives you inspiration in your training?  Is it the person who has won the most trophies?  The person who leads your organization or region?  Or is it someone that most people do not even notice?

During more than two decades of karate training, I have come in contact with some truly inspirational individuals as well as some who seemed at first to be worthy of great admiration, but were later found to be severely lacking as people.

Sure, Nakayama Sensei was inspirational.  Anyone who met the man would agree with that.  But many other famous karateka in Japan turned out not to be all that inspirational.  I have trained under and next to many of the past JKA All-Japan and World Champions.  But many of them did not really impress me as particularly worthy of the admiration given them by their followers around the world.  There are very many people outside of Japan who automatically assume that an instructor is better just because he has a Japanese name.  There are some great Japanese karate instructors.  But there are many who are not Japanese who are great as well.

So, who has been inspirational to me?  Some of them almost nobody reading this article would have ever heard of.

In the first dojo where I trained, the main instructor was not the best technician, nor instructor, for that matter.  But she has a passion for karate nonetheless.  She has worked hard to keep her dojo going when it was losing money, when there were very few students, and when she was going through some turmoil in her personal life.  I admire her dedication to the art and commitment to her students.  

One of my sempai (seniors) from that dojo told me several years ago that I was one of his idols.  I told him that he was actually one of mine.  He idolized me for having moved to Japan for karate right after graduating from high school.  I idolized him for training despite severe arthritis.

I presently have a student who does not look particularly impressive, although he has been doing karate off-and-on for over 30 years.  This student has had so many injuries, operations and other set-backs, yet is back and training to the best of his ability.  I would rather have a dojo full of people like this student, than of people who are physically skilled but lack a good attitude.  It is so much more rewarding teaching people who show a real interest in wanting to learn and improve, even if their improvement is slow.

I remember watching a dan exam in the early 1980's in which one gentleman was testing for sandan.  He did not look all that impressive at first.  In fact, it looked like something was definitely lacking in his performance.  It turned out that he had had a stroke not long before and was basically still paralyzed on one side of his body.  Considering this, he did an outstanding job and was truly impressive.  

Another time, I was at a kyu exam.  A man taking the exam that night was completely blind.  Every time he turned during basics or kata, he did it with more precision than anyone else there.  The only accommodation provided to him was that we all tried to be quiet when he was doing kumite, so he could better hear his opponent's movements.

I have known some very nice people in my life.  I do not think it is purely coincidental that many of them are karate instructors and students.  The way some people share with others can be very inspirational.

There are some people who have trained for decades without testing for higher rank, yet have continued to advance their skills and understanding at such a rate that they are of greater ability than most of those who are several ranks higher.  If you only look at tournament achievements, rank and position in an organization, you may overlook some really talented karateka.  And if you look around at your dojo/organization and get to know these people, you may find that there are quite a few inspirational people out there.

Who impresses you in your karate world?


Copyright © 2004, Jon Keeling

Is it “cool” to use Japanese terms in the dojo?  Does it make our practice seem more authentic?  As with the bowing practices I mentioned in my article on that subject, there are some people who believe in discarding this part of our training traditions completely and others who feel that tradition must be maintained, even if it is impractical.

Most ballet instructors still use the French terminology for all the techniques and a few of the explanations.  In music, Italian is used often to describe the flow and intensity of the music.  Certain languages are used often in the field of medicine, no matter where it is being discussed.  And in Japan, terminology in baseball and other sports that made their way from the West are largely English.  So that karate uses Japanese for so many terms used in the dojo may not be so strange.

When “karate” made its way from China to Okinawa, before it was really known as “karate” at all, the Okinawans used some of the Chinese names for techniques and kata and then gradually changed these to local Okinawan terms.  The same thing happened after karate made its way from Okinawa to mainland Japan.  So why is it taking those in the West so long to adapt and rename techniques and other training terms to their own native languages?

While it is interesting to some people to study the history of their art, especially for those who do not understand the Japanese language, why do they hold onto the past in this manner? 

I can speak and read Japanese.  So, for me, the Japanese terminology is quite understandable.  But even I do not say the Dojo Kun in Japanese at my dojo.  Apart from a few of my students who have lived in Japan as well, nobody would understand.  I do use some Japanese terminology for technique names.  But I almost always include a description of the technique in English as well.  Memorizing all the technique names in Japanese would be useful at my dojo, but it is certainly not a requirement.

I do not have a major issue with the idea that some people use the Japanese terms even though they do not often understand the actual meanings.  But I do see a problem with mispronunciation and, much more so, misinterpretation.  I know of many Japanese instructors who have listened to some Westerner rattle off “Japanese” that was completely incomprehensible.  I have heard Japanese people laugh when they heard Westerners reciting the Dojo Kun in so-called "Japanese".  But, even worse, I have seen the shivers go up their spines as they heard people use completely incorrect terminology.

Recently, for example, I heard someone describe a stance as “fudodachi” that was actually a relatively high sparring stance.  If this person knew what the term meant, he would never have considered using it, even if he had heard others say it mistakenly for that stance.

The Japanese terminology can be very difficult to follow even for Japanese people.  So non-Japanese karate practitioners should not feel like lesser people for not knowing the language.  I remember a class that Nakayama Sensei was teaching at the JKA Honbu Dojo in Tokyo in early 1986. When Sensei rattled off a string of techniques that were unfamiliar to them, most of the Instructor Trainees and even some who had been training for 20+ years had to look for guidance to the foreigners who had been training regularly at Nakayama Sensei's private Hoitsugan Dojo.  How many times have you heard the term oigeri?  It is a valid term and makes sense.  But it is simply not in common usage, at least among most Shotokan instructors.

Another term that is used incorrectly all over the West is sempai.  Sempai means “senior” but is strictly a relative term.  That means that a senior instructor should not be calling a very junior dojo member sempai unless it is obvious that the instructor is implying in an explanation to more junior students that this senior student is their senior.  This can be confusing.   And because it can be so confusing, I would suggest not using such terms if you do not understand the implications thoroughly.  There is nothing wrong, for example, with referring to someone as “Mr. Takahashi”, “Mrs. Miller” or “Ms. Chen” (unless those are not their names! ).  For more on the subject of sensei/sempai/kohai/seito relationships, please see my July 2001 article.

If you do not understand the Japanese terminology completely and are not confident that you are pronouncing and applying it correctly, my recommendation is that you do not use it.  And if the others in the dojo that you are speaking with do not understand either, then it is certainly inappropriate.  I think there are good reasons to keep Japanese words and terms in the dojo.  But what is said should be understood.  If you are the instructor, and that means getting help with pronunciation and explaining the Japanese words in your native tongue, then I suggest you do that, in order to help everyone better understand.


Copyright © 2004, Jon Keeling

I often tell my students that their training should be a challenge and they should challenge others in the class.  By this, I do not mean that they should put undue stress on themselves to perform beyond their abilities and definitely not to push others in a potentially harmful way.  What I mean is that the training should not be too easy, but not overly difficult, either.  I usually clarify for my students that a challenge means “it shouldn’t be easy but it shouldn’t be impossible either”.

As I suggested in my January 2004 article, we should set goals that we can achieve.  Nobody should expect the impossible of himself or of others.  But we should not be taking it too easy, either.  This goes for life in general, in addition to our experience in the dojo.

Some common examples of how we can challenge ourselves during our training, making things neither too easy nor impossible:
• Try to have the lowest stance you can manage.  It does not need to be lower than the person who is naturally much more flexible than you.  But it should not be practically standing up, either.
• Wait until the last possible moment to move when defending in kumite/sparring.  Don’t move as soon as you see a chance and do not wait until you get hit.
• When the instructor says “full speed” do the techniques as quickly as you can manage, without letting form suffer.  Don’t do it so fast that it becomes sloppy (that’s not a real challenge) and don’t do it so slowly that it is obviously not “full speed”.
• Challenge yourself to do techniques with more speed, power, accuracy or commitment than you did during the previous workout.
• Do extra training outside of class, including aerobic and strengthening exercises.  Don’t overdo it and make yourself so tired that you cannot come to the dojo.  But don’t just sit around watching TV all day long.  When doing exercises, try to do one or two repetitions more than you did the previous week or month, to keep things challenging.

As for how we might help challenge someone else in class, here are some examples:
• Be as good an example of technique, speed, power and attitude as you can, challenging the other person (non-verbally) to be as good.
• Attack quickly and powerfully, but with control so that you do not cause damage if the other person is not up to this challenge.
• Encourage others to show as much commitment and enthusiasm toward their training as you do, by challenging them to attend as many classes and try as hard in each one as you do.

We must be careful not to push anyone else too hard.  Remember that in addition to potential for physical damage, some people may suffer emotional harm when excessively challenged.  It is always best to ask your partner if he/she would like to be challenged and, if so, how much.  As an instructor, I try to do this quite often.  It is usually better to concentrate on being the best we ourselves can be, rather than being overly concerned with other people, particularly if you are not an instructor.  We should all try to lead by example.  Challenging ourselves will hopefully encourage others to challenge themselves as well. 

Challenge is something that should be welcomed.  It is a valuable tool for our development and the development of those around us.

Copyright © 2004, Jon Keeling

I have often been accused of teaching some of the most “cerebral” karate classes.  I admit that I like to have my students think about what they are doing, or at least what they are supposed to be doing.  But that does not mean that we use our brains instead of the rest of our bodies.  I like to say that in my dojo “we train hard but we also train smart.”

Thinking about your training can help you get more out of it.  It should accelerate your learning path.  You still have to put in the time at the dojo, repeating movements and techniques to work the ideas into your body movements.  But if you analyze your movements, you can make them better, and do that more quickly than by just repeating the movements without applying any thought to them.  In fact, repeating incorrect movements over and over could make things even worse than if you had never done them at all.  Repetition can create a negative muscle-memory (bad habit) which can take longer to “unlearn” than someone without any knowledge of the movement or technique could pick it up.

I usually encourage students to ask questions.  But I also sometimes remind them that when there is a question, the first person to ask is oneself.  Next, it would probably be a good idea to ask another student for his or her opinion; perhaps all that was needed was another viewpoint to make things clear.  If these do not provide a sufficient answer, then ask an instructor.  Of course if it is a question concerning how to do a certain exercise we are doing at that particular moment in the class, the question should be asked of the instructor right away.

This being said, there is a time for quiet contemplation and/or simply training for the sake of training, without any questions or explanations.

Once we sufficiently understand a given technique, we should practice it with increasing speed and tension, making sure to build the muscle-memory gradually and with enough control to maintain the proper form that we have already analyzed and proven to be correct.  Even a very basic movement or technique, such as a stationary gyakuzuki (reverse-punch) can actually be quite complex when analyzed in detail.  However, after we have a good understanding of the way it is to be done, repeating that movement (correctly) becomes essential if we are to really get our bodies to be able to execute it naturally and immediately when needed.  There comes a time when we should repeat such a movement without thinking much about it. 

There are not more than about a dozen classes each year at my dojo where I do not try to teach anything, maybe fewer than 5 some years.  But, sometimes, usually when there are just advanced members for an evening or on certain special occasions, I may just line up with everyone else (not in front, in my usual position as instructor) and train for the sake of training.   I go through repetition after repetition with everyone else in an effort to get my body to make sure it knows how to go into auto-pilot.  The only reason I may need to use my brain actively is to push my body when it says it has had enough.

“Shut up and train” is something that is apparently still heard on a regular basis at many traditional dojo.  There is a time to think and there is a time to train.  Personally, I think the best is almost always a combination of the two; think about training while training.  But, just as you are at this moment thinking about what you are reading, sometimes we need to just train without thinking about anything except perhaps the count (how many have been done and/or reaction to the sound of the count).  We may need to convince the body to keep going after it complains about muscle soreness, for example by thinking about how good training makes us feel (or at least how good we will feel after it is over!).

Train hard.  But train smart.  But most importantly…keep training.


Copyright © 2003, Jon Keeling

How should we act toward an instructor visiting from Japan?  How should we treat the main instructor of our dojo?  How should we treat fellow students who are senior?  Or those who are junior?  What if someone else is senior in years but junior in rank?  

Sometimes, in the most formal situations, knowing exactly what the best thing to do is may be difficult.  But in terms of showing respect itself, I think it is fairly straightforward.

Webster defines “courteous” as well-mannered, and “polite” as having or showing good manners.  “Courtesy” is a polite, helpful or considerate act or remark.  “Respect”, on the other hand, is to feel or show honor or esteem for, to hold in high regard. You can communicate or display your respect (or lack thereof) through your posture, words, speaking manner and overall attitude.

How to treat other people seems to me to be common sense.  Without trying to sound religious, I think it worth noting the quote “Do unto others as you would like others to do unto you.”  Treat other people with respect if you would like them to treat you with respect.  Simple as that.

Sure, the world does not always work that way.  But it is worth trying, anyway.  

Another quote I like is from a movie about a military high school (I forgot the name of the movie), in which the headmaster, a combat-hardened and heavily decorated retired general, begins the school term with a speech to the students that includes something to the effect of “You don’t have to earn my respect.  You already have my respect for being here.  Let’s hope you don’t lose it.”  The idea here is that people deserve to be treated with respect, at least until they do something that should cause others to lose some degree of respect for them.  I am not trying to make a case that everyone deserves the same amount of respect.  But I suggest giving each person the benefit of the doubt, at least until he or she proves to be unworthy.

In dealing with the gradation between ranks in karate, I think the overriding theme should be that mentioned above.  We should treat everyone with the respect he or she deserves.  And when someone does not seem to deserve such a high level of respect, at least show courtesy.  

There are, however, certain situations that may require extra consideration.   For example, older, more traditional instructors may be used to longer, slower bows than many of us are used to at the beginning and end of class.  The key point to bear in mind is that the students should wait until the instructor is finished bowing first.  For those on the junior end of the line, it is usually best to follow the lead of the senior members in the line, waiting for them to begin their rise from the bowing position as well.

Here are some pointers to keep in mind when training with a high-ranking Japanese instructor:
•  Be at the dojo on time and ready to begin class as soon as he gives the signal.
• Do not make any assumptions about how long each part of the class will take or if/when any water breaks might occur.
• Do not ask questions unless he offers to take questions, at least not during the class, and limit the questions to the subject matter of the class (unless the instructor has indicated that all types of questions are welcome).
•  Remember that “actions speak louder than words.”  Bow deeply and try hard to follow directions and show good technique and spirit.

Now that I reread the above, I realize that what I wrote should apply to any instructor.  Please reread with this thought in mind and try to see if you are treating your regular instructor(s) the way he/she/they should be treated.

Outside the dojo setting, the instructor may expect the same level of formality as in the dojo, that students should bow down to them (at least figuratively) as if they were in class.  For a visiting instructor who rarely visits, it is probably worth putting the extra effort forward to accommodate.  As stated above, I believe that people should be treated with the respect they deserve.  For an older, very experienced individual, he most likely deserves some extra attention and courtesy regardless of his abilities as a martial artist.  Also bear in mind that many older people in general have been brought up with more formality and courtesy in their daily lives than many of us are used to today.

I have a friend who has been teaching karate at a very high level for quite some time, regarded internationally as a top-rate instructor.  He once made a point of telling me that he had such great respect for the students in his small dojo, since all of them were such specialists in their respective fields that he felt that he was at best their equal, all things considered.  It was quite humbling to hear this.

Many instructors of children's classes make a point of teaching their students to be courteous and polite.  Respect is a word used often by some teachers.  I think that this can be one of the most important things a young student learns in so-called karate classes.  They may not really understand the finer technical points (if any are even taught, understanding that many "karate classes" for kids have very little to do with authentic karate) and most likely will forget most of what they learned soon after they quit their class (hopefully, of course, they will stick with it for the long term, but that is rare).  The emphasis on respect and courtesy, however, tend to result in longer term character improvements.  Perhaps there is a lesson for the adults in this, too.

The main idea is that we should try to show people the respect they deserve.  When in doubt, assume they deserve a high level of respect and downgrade accordingly only after they have proven themselves deserving of such.


Copyright © 2003, Jon Keeling

Someone requested that I write an article on the subject of 'motivation'.  When I asked for clarification, he said that he wondered how I managed to motivate myself to come to the dojo so much, to have trained for so many years and to have taken so little time off for breaks.

I was hesitant.  As with several other subjects that people have requested I write about, I felt that I was not well qualified to write such an article since I do not really have to work at motivating myself to train.  I have never had to work at motivating myself to keep going with Karate.  Hence, only half of this article is on this subject.

What I have had and continue to have to struggle with is finding the time to devote to Karate, as well as the devotion required to maintain a dojo that barely earns me minimum wage.  It would be much easier to stay at home and train by myself than to come to the dojo several times each week to teach.  With so many other things happening in my life, it is sometimes a struggle to get to the dojo several times each week, every week.

Motivating yourself

Considering self-motivation, I would like to offer the following suggestions:
• Set aside a certain minimum amount of time each day (or at least every other day) to do some basic technique practice.  For some people there may be time to self-train for 2 hours every day in addition to going to the dojo (like I did back in high school).  For others, it may be only 10 minutes (as for me at times when my work schedule has been harsh).  Even a little is better than nothing.
• Even if you do not have the ability to do physical training, at least try to think about Karate at some point each day.  Even when away on a hectic business trip, there is always the time to at least spend a few minutes pondering what alternative applications might be possible for a series of kata moves that you practiced the week before at the dojo or rehearse in your mind some series of techniques you intend to practice at the next opportunity.
• Keep a training journal.  It can be easier to motivate yourself when you (a) see how much effort you have put into your training and therefore shouldn’t stop now or (b) see how much you really have developed through the course of time.  You could include goals and record when you meet these goals, for additional self-motivation.
• Don’t make excuses.   There may be many valid reasons why you cannot train every day.  But do not go out of your way to think up reasons not to go to the dojo.
• Work on "self-competition".  Sometimes it is good to see if you can kick faster, punch stronger or have better technique than the person next to you while training.  This is especially valuable if that person is senior, more athletic or more experienced that you.  But it is also good to simply work at being better that you were the previous session or repetition.


Motivating others

What I think I, personally, have struggled with more than motivating myself is motivating others.  I suspect that this is at least in part due to that I do not have to work at motivating myself.  I must feel, at some level of (sub)consciousness, that others should also feel naturally motivated and not need my help in this regard. 

I do not generally “push” the people in my class very hard.  I only teach adults and I think that as such they should be capable of pushing themselves.   Perhaps that is expecting too much, at least sometimes.  Motivating others is something I try to do primarily through leading by example.  I train along with them much of most classes and they can see that I am often trying at least as hard as everyone else.  I also sometimes mention to more senior members of the dojo that they have a responsibility to help motivate others, as the primary duty of the instructor should be to teach. 

Some instructors find that having frequent kyu exams is a good way to motivate people to train more and train harder.  This is probably more true for children and why many semi-traditional dojo have instituted a separate belt color scheme for children.  This belt scheme may include stripes or additional colored belts to create more gradation in the ranks and therefore give them more frequent goal-steps (smaller goals) during their progress toward the higher ranks.

Some instructors find that frequent tournament competition is a good motivator.  Training for the pressure of a tournament can drive students to train harder than usual.

While both of the above can be useful motivational tools, they can also both be detrimental to the students’ actual advancement in traditional Karate-Do.  These tools must be used carefully, with goals and intentions clarified such that students do not misunderstand the meaning of such peripheral activities.   To place preparation for rank exams and tournament competition as top priority during training is, in reality, straying from the true purpose of Karate-Do.  But these things can help sometimes for motivation.

To motivate students to train for the sake of training is often a very difficult challenge for instructors and the apparent lack of motivation by instructors is sometimes a sign that the instructor is, ultimately, meaning for the student to further understand the deeper meaning of Karate-Do through his/her own struggle to self-motivate.

As usual, the opinions expressed in these articles are my own, unless otherwise noted.  If you have any comments, including motivational stories or quotes, please feel free to send them to me.  I may append this article with supplemental comments from others, if it seems like it might be useful to readers.

Copyright © 2003, Jon Keeling

Gung-ho: adj.  {Slang} Extremely enthusiastic and dedicated (American Heritage Dictionary)

While there is nothing wrong with being enthusiastic about and dedicated to the art of Karate-do, extremely hard training may be counter-productive to skill development.

Most people I know (including me, recently) do not train nearly as often or as hard as would be ideal.  That being said, some people over-train and this can be just as bad or sometimes even worse.

Occasionally, it is good to do a few hundred, or even a couple thousand repetitions of a technique in a single day, or stay in a stance for 10-15 minutes straight.  Sometimes it is good to push your body a little further than what you thought it could do.  But it is dangerous if we go too far.  We could do damage to our joints or muscles, become dehydrated, cause injuries to ourselves and/or others during sparring if the hard training makes us careless…

Hard training is not without merit.  Under the right circumstances, it may be a very exhilarating, invigorating experience, especially in a group setting.

At the JKA Honbu (headquarters) dojo in Tokyo each year, at the last evening class of the year, students perform “senbonzuki”.  Most readers are familiar with “sanbonzuki,” which is “triple-punch”.  “Sen” is 1000.  Everyone forms a circle and each student counts 10 repetitions of gyakuzuki until everyone has counted.  Then, they switch sides and do it again.  This continues until 1000 repetitions are completed.  Sometimes, this is followed by maegeri or more gyakuzuki. 

In my club, for the past few years, we have done the number of the upcoming year.  So, this past December 30th, we did 2003 reverse-punches.  We followed this with a couple hundred front kicks and some free-sparring.  Performing this many repetitions, one must relax and use only the necessary muscles.  Following this type of training with free-sparring, while it seems like it may be dangerous, if done slowly, lightly and carefully, it is a good way to drive home the idea of using the relaxation that the body just learned during the repetitions.

Occasionally training in this manner may be good for reaching beyond psychological or physical plateaus.  But doing this on a regular basis can be counter-productive.

When I first arrived in Japan for training in 1985, I trained 3 hours every day.  On days I missed one class, I made up for it by doing 4 hours the next day.  After I started working, I could no longer keep up this pace, but still managed to get in over 10 hours of training per week most of those initial 3 years I was there for training.  When I returned to Japan for 5 more years, this time primarily for my job, my work schedule would not allow for more than a few hours of training per week.  When I look back on my development, I realize that although my physical advancement was fastest during the time I trained the most hours, I advanced more per-hour with less hours of training time.

What is the optimal amount and intensity of training?  It depends on the person and situation, as well as the goals of the individual.  Personally, I wish I had the time to train 2+ hours of karate each day and supplement this with another 2+ hours of cross-training, 5 or 6 days each week.  But I do not have the time nor financial freedom and even if I did, my body could no longer support that kind of physical rigor.  I think that most people do not get as much exercise as they should, even many of those enrolled in karate classes and even many of those who are instructors.  Some people try to make up for missing training for a few months by training intensively for a couple hours per day for several days at a stretch.  Training consistently and in a productive environment is imperative, whether done in a dojo with others or independently.  Supplementing this with occasional "gung-ho" training, under the right circumstances, can further enhance your skills.

Train hard, but not too hard.  Train smart, but don’t neglect the physical side of training and just theorize.  Above all, enjoy it!

Copyright © 2003, Jon Keeling

I have been asked many times if it is worth the effort and money to make a trip to Japan to further one’s training. Having spent a total of 8 years in Japan, much of that training in Karate-do, I suppose I could help provide some insight into the relative value of this. Ultimately, however, this decision should be a very personal one and the answer for one person may be different from the next.

Some positive points worth consideration:
• There are more high-quality instructors of the traditional Japanese martial arts in Japan than anywhere else in the world.
• There are more high-quality karateka training seriously in Japan than anywhere else.
• With so many people training and so many people teaching, the available number and variety of types of classes is extremely high.  You could train several times each day with some great instructors, even specializing in a particular part of training such as kata or kumite.
• Training itself is relatively inexpensive.
• Many people would be impressed to hear that you trained in Japan.
• There can be some wonderful experiences, both during and outside of training.

Some negative points worth consideration:
• If you do not understand the language, your ability to understand the training points may be limited.
• It may take a while to find the best instructors, dojo or schedule for you, personally, since information is not always readily available.
• Japan is a “closed society.”  Even if you live there for many years, there are certain circles into which you would never be completely welcome.
• Japan is a very expensive place, in general.
• If you do not travel with anyone else or do not know anyone already there, Japan can be a lonely place to live.
• You could have some bad experiences there, both during and outside of training.

The quality of your training depends on many factors, no matter where you train.  Some important ones are:
• The instructor – Does he/she teach in a way that you can learn?
• The people training there – intensity, population (cultural, age, gender, occupational and experience breakdown), size of class, and atmosphere
• Type of training – Some people prefer hard physical training, some prefer to focus on technical aspects, etc.
• Schedule – Having lots of classes is meaningless if you can’t attend them.
• Location – Is the dojo conveniently located?

One of the most important things to consider is what you want to get out of the trip.  If you are going simply for the experience—because you want to see what it’s like for yourself—maybe you should just go.  If you want to have some intensive training, you may want to treat it as a summer camp (actually, about the same price for most people, when you factor everything in), and make the trip.  But if you hope to learn the “secrets of Karate-do,” you may want to save yourself the time, effort and money.  It may take you longer to achieve the same level of understanding in Japan than it would somewhere closer to your present home (providing you have a very good instructor in the area you are presently).

If you are looking for a great instructor, there are many points to consider.  If you simply want someone to yell at you to go faster, train harder, etc., you could find this type of “instructor” almost anywhere.  If you are looking for someone to actually teach you something, perhaps you should do some research on what each particular potential instructor might have to offer in a particular area.  Much can be gained from hearing/reading the thoughts of others. But sometimes you really do need to have the experience yourself in order to appreciate the quality of instruction of a particular teacher or the appropriateness of his teaching style for you.

One resource for this is the Instructor Profiles’ Database that I am administering:

There is also some limited information about the JKA and Hoitsugan Dojo on the JKASV and Hoitsugan websites.

Other resources for information about training in Japan:
Karate the Japanese Way
24 Fighting Chickens

Good luck!

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

Do you find yourself making excuses?  I know I sometimes do.  Do you blame your lack of rank advancement on your instructor(s) or examiner(s)?  Do you feel like you would get more out of your training if your sparring partners didn’t come in so fast with their attacks?  Do you spend time thinking up excuses for not training more?

While there may be legitimate reasons, we all, at some time, fail to take responsibility for our own behavior.  Whether or not we are at fault for our shortcomings, transferring blame to someone else should not become a habit.

Other commitments in your life may be a higher priority than training sometimes, as is the case with me these days, now that I have a baby at home.  But while this may be a valid excuse for not going to the dojo as often as I used to (or would like), it is not an excuse for me to give up training altogether.  I can still work out at home in between other things.  And I can train while I teach at the dojo (for at least part of the class).  I feel that I am responsible for my students’ continuing progress, and therefore also feel responsible for what other teachers at my dojo do who lead classes in my absence.

If I find myself partnered in kumite with someone who is slow, I do not blame my partner for my lessened training.  Instead, I change my focus to something other than working on speed.  If someone lacks control, I use this to test myself in “expecting the unexpected,” as long as things do not get out of hand such that safety becomes a major concern.

As an instructor, I have a responsibility to my students to provide a high level of teaching.  If I feel that someone’s learning or training desires do not fit with the subject or methods that I teach, I gladly point them to another location/instructor that I think might be more suitable.  I think of this as my responsibility, too.

Competitors at a tournament may blame the judges for not calling the scores better.  Judges may assume that a technique scored a point because another judge scored it.  We are all human, thus capable and prone to make mistakes.  We must acknowledge our shortcomings and learn from them.  We can also learn from observing the shortcomings of others.  In fact, I think it is our responsibility to learn from the mistakes we make as well as the mistakes others make.

Students sometimes feel as though they are spending too much time practicing the basics, when they would rather be introduced to advanced kata or free-sparring.  I suggest that students who feel that way try to realize the value of these basic repetitions, that their advanced kata and free-sparring will be improved, eventually, as a result of this seemingly mundane practice.

Classes cost too much?  If you do a little comparison-shopping, you would probably find that karate classes are an incredible bargain, compared to, for example, ballet or college classes.  If you still think that your dues are too high, consider discussing this with your instructor.  Often, the instructor would consider a lesser payment if a student cannot make it to the majority of classes due to a hectic schedule or long commute.  Or perhaps the instructor could offer referral fees for helping to bring in new students or some other “soft-dollar” arrangement.

I have heard the excuse many times that “I am not in good shape now, so I can’t make it to class.”  Isn’t one of the reasons to come to class “to get (or keep) in shape”? 

The bottom line is that we should not make excuses.  There are some legitimate reasons why we may not be perfect.  But let’s take responsibility for our actions (or inaction, as the case may be). 

Some quotes worth considering:

"Life is tough, but when you’re tough on yourself, life is infinitely more rewarding" (Zig Zigler)

"If you keep on doing what you have been doing, you are going to keep on getting what you have been getting." (Alcoholics Anonymous)

"We must ask where we are and whither we are going."  (Abraham Lincoln)

"Whether you think you can or think you can’t, you are probably right." (Henry Ford)

"A goal is nothing more than a dream with a time limit." (Joe L. Griffith)



Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

How much are karate classes really worth?

In economics terminology, something is worth "what the market will bear." This definition may be further classified to include one or both of the following: 1) what seems reasonable based on costs and profit levels (supply side) and 2) perceived value (demand side).

From the supply side: If an instructor enjoys teaching karate classes and has a day-job that pays well, he may not require much money from the students to be satisfied. If an instructor is relying on the income of the dojo and has many expenses to cover, he may require higher payments.

From the demand side: Some people may shop around for various martial arts programs and simply choose the one that costs the least. The classes that cost the least may or may not actually be the "cheapest." Some instructors are very undervalued and some are overvalued. This is at least partially a reflection of perception, both of the public in general and the individual consumer. It is often, however, the perceived value that determines what the market will bear.

Let's make a few comparisons, in terms of relative value:

1. Movie - Lasts longer, more entertaining
Yes, a movie can be more entertaining. But if you are attending karate classes for entertainment purposes, what you are doing is probably not "real" karate. Karate can be entertaining. But there is a lot more to it than that. Unless you are watching an educational documentary (not so entertaining), you are probably not going to learn much from the movie that would help you become more fit, learn self-defense skills, or understand any of the other ideas explored in most karate classes.

2. Visit to the gym or community center - Can involve different activities
You can get a great workout in many different ways. Karate is only one of many choices you have if all you want to do is get in shape. But it is worth noting that unless you are fortunate enough to be working out with a friend who is helping you, or paying a hefty fee for a personal trainer, you are probably not going to learn as much as in a karate class. Also, it is sometimes more difficult to stay motivated and disciplined under such conditions. People are generally not as committed to their workouts and you may see completely different people every time you go.

3. Ballet - More "sophisticated" and "cultured" an activity
When comparing ballet and karate, it seems that perceived value becomes very evident. It is generally accepted that classes in traditional ballet cost a lot. Ballet teachers work diligently for many years to become the best that they can at their art and go on to study in more depth as they migrate to the teaching role. Although ballet may result in body flexibility, muscularity and motion control, it is probably not a very helpful tool for a self-defense encounter. This factor may make karate the more practical or "valuable" of the two, all else being equal. When compared to aerobics, including "cardio-kickboxing" and similar misnomers, both ballet and (authentic) martial arts really stand out as sophisticated, both taking many years to do well and years more to teach well. But for some reason, ballet is often perceived as having a higher value for classes than karate.

What is the value of karate classes in actual monetary terms? It obviously depends on what the individual student thinks they are worth. For some students, $10/hour may seem like a bargain. For others, that may seem a bit expensive.

In very general terms, I would say that the value of a 60- to 90-minute group karate class, at least in California's Silicon Valley (relatively expensive for almost everything), may be something like this:
• Good workout, with no real instruction: $5-10
• A few pointers, but nothing special; instructor as "coach": $10-15
• Something(s) pointed out that will make a difference in the long-term; a real teacher: $15-25
• Very eye-opening experience, including many points or at least one very major one: $25-50

The event should be pleasant, educational and fulfilling. For example, if attending a one-hour class that consists of a hard workout, but no instruction, where one is injured partially due to lack of supervision/instruction, $5 might be more than enough.

Of course we must also take into consideration that a special seminar may occur with an instructor who does not visit the area frequently. For this, one may pay an extra $5-10, knowing that this opportunity may never to come again, even though it may not be much better than a regular class. The host(s) of such an event often have to pay considerable fees to hire the guest instructor, often involving travel expenses, accommodations, hourly fees and perhaps rental charges for the facilities used. As a regular member of a dojo, attending many classes, you should be expected to get a discount over the hourly fees suggested above, by paying monthly/quarterly dues, etc.

The value of the class is probably at least somewhat determined by the size of the class. If there are hundreds of participants, comments by the instructor(s) to students are probably only of the most general type. If there are only a handful of people training, the instructor can probably give much more specific comments and tailor the training more to suit the individual. For private lessons, therefore, the value of the class could easily be 5 times the value of a group class, if the instructor is very good. A one-hour class that costs in excess of $200 may be worth every penny and more, if the instructor does a fantastic job. What is learned in this one hour may be enough to keep you thinking and training for months of regular classes without any additional comments needed.

In the modern age of the internet, microwaves and other things that have made our lives, generally, so much easier than those of previous generations, many people seem to have become lazy. Some people cannot imagine traveling for more than 20 minutes to a martial arts class, considering that there are 3 or 4 places within that amount of travel time from which they can choose. They often do not realize that their time would be better spent traveling the extra 20-30 minutes to a better dojo, perhaps in another city entirely. Some people do realize the value of traveling for their training. I have numerous students, for example, who spend almost an hour each way to train at my dojo. For special events, such as the Instructors' Classes, black belts come from as far as 2 ½ hours away to better themselves. I used to travel 90-minutes each way to train in New York City every Friday night with Mori Sensei, happy to pay the added costs of visitor fees. I did this for a couple years because I felt it was worth it. Although I do not expect everyone to jump on a plane and go to Japan as I have done so many times for my training, it seems to me as though many people could benefit by going the literal "extra mile" for their training.

I always aim to make students feel that they are getting a bargain in my classes. I charge a little more than a few other dojo in the area. But a lot less than many others. My private lessons cost more than just about anywhere else in northern California. But I think they are worth it. When I have potential new students or those visiting from other areas who are hesitant about paying a guest fee, I tell them to just pay me after class whatever they think it was worth. I try to be fair. One instructor from another area, upon hearing me tell him to "just pay me whatever you think is fair" for teaching a seminar, replied: "I don't think we can pay that much!"

Ultimately, while some martial arts' classes overpriced, most are generally undervalued. If you are looking for a (new) dojo and have any doubts about the prospective instructor, or classes in general, I would always suggest checking out many dojo in the area. Talk with both the instructor(s) and students to get a better idea if it is what you want to do, how you want to do it and what it might be worth for you.

For additional reference, please see information about my Shotokan Karate Instructors' Profile Database.

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

Why do we train barefoot? In many martial arts, especially those of Japanese tradition, training is conducted without footwear. Is it to develop the muscles of the ankle in a more refined way than is possible while training with shoes on? Is it something spiritual? Or is it a totally useless tradition? We are more likely to have to use our techniques in a self-defense situation while wearing footwear, are we not?

There may actually be several reasons for taking off the shoes for training. To start with, let us examine the tradition of taking off the shoes when entering a home in Japan.

Reasons for taking off the shoes at home are prioritized in the minds of most Japanese:
1. Cleanliness
2. Separation of "outside" vs. "inside"
3. Comfort

In other cultures where shoes are traditionally removed upon entry into the home, such as China, the priorities may be different. It is my opinion that many Chinese treat cleanliness with less importance on this issue than they do comfort. This is based on my experiences in China and Taiwan, as well as with many homes of Chinese and Chinese-Americans in the USA. The difference in priorities is not necessarily "wrong" or "right" as much as it is simply "different." This difference may play a part in explaining why many Chinese martial arts are practiced in footwear. It may also have something to do with why the clothing of many Chinese martial artists appears to be so much more comfortable than their Japanese counterparts.

In the Japanese tradition, as I believe it should be other places as well, it is considered quite rude to attempt to enter someone's house without first removing the shoes, even if told that it is OK to do so. On the other hand, it is considered rude for someone to ask visitors to remove their shoes when the floor is dirty. Even here in the US, if I enter someone's home and it looks clean, I will assume that I should remove my shoes at the door.

Although training with no shoes on may be more comfortable to some people, it seems that comfort must not be a major reason for taking the shoes off for training, even if it is the main reason to remove the shoes at home. A symbolic expression of "outside" vs. "inside" may play a part in this tradition; the student puts aside the garments of the outside world and dons the simple white uniform of his fellow students. But, to me, it is the idea of cleanliness, as well as the related safety factor, is by far the most important reason to train barefoot.

The floor must be as clean as possible during training. I think this idea is generally understood by everyone. Whether wearing something on the feet or not, a small particle of debris on the foot could fly into someone's eye as a result of a kick. If anything is worn on the feet, it must be cleaned thoroughly before each training session. Would that really be worth the extra time? There may be some people who, due to some condition or injury, must wear footwear. Those people must take extra effort to clean their footwear for safety reasons. Of course the training surface must be kept clean regardless of the type of footwear, or lack thereof. But removing footwear upon entering the dojo should help make the cleaning of the floor that much less work. Please see my article on Dojo Etiquette for related points.

The ideas of distance to the target and making contact are also something worth considering. The distance is more difficult to control when the foot is encased in a shoe or even with foam padding. This also relates to the safety aspect, as a lack of control could cause unintended injury. Additionally, the feeling one gets when making contact with the bare foot during training is better for providing physical feedback to the performer of the kick. On a related note, we use some different muscles of the foot and ankle when wearing nothing on the feet. These small muscles help control minor adjustments in balance when standing on the floor. To appreciate the role of these small muscles, try standing on one foot for several minutes. You should notice that you make very minor adjustments with your foot/ankle to keep your balance. This is similar to the way a cat uses its tail for balance when walking across a thin wall or tree branch.

"Sticking" to the floor may sometimes be a problem when training barefoot on mats. But this is often much more of a problem with shoes on. While the shoe may offer some additional support for the ankle, the added sensitivity in the nerves of the foot while training barefoot may further reduce risk of injury from slipping or sticking.

Those who simply accept the idea of training without shoes on as "tradition" may miss the point. An example of this is when students take off their shoes at the dojo door, then step outside to stretch our or use the restroom, still not wearing anything on their feet. They may then track in dirt, debris or unwanted bacteria to the dojo on their return. This almost completely defeats the purpose of removing shoes when entering the dojo. If someone is coming into the dojo after having been on a dirty floor surface, the feet should be properly cleaned (or at least brushed off), before stepping onto the dojo floor.

So, when training outside on dirt or grass, should we wear anything on our feet? In terms of kicking up debris, this may be inevitable; there will be some loose sand, etc., on the ground no matter how well you clean the area. In terms of protection for your feet, though, it is in our best interest to wear something on the feet while training outside. That being said, when training with footwear, contact should be limited, or even completely deleted from the training. Furthermore, we should be careful when training outside not to kick up any dirt or debris into others. So kicking should be done away from others when possible.

In summary, training barefoot is a good idea for those willing to properly maintain a clean training area, for several reasons. Cleanliness, safety and possibly heightened awareness of body positioning may all be worth considering as reasons to maintain a shoe-free dojo environment. If training for self-defense only, however, perhaps one should practice in a variety of footwear situations, in a variety of training environments. In general, something should be worn on the feet when outside and nothing should be worn on the feet when inside, according to Japanese tradition. A better understanding of this tradition should help us all to benefit more from it.

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

Humility is a virtue. While it is understandable that we would like to show as few flaws as possible, those who accept their shortcomings and try to improve them are generally better off than those who do not. I am not the most humble person there is. But I do know that in order to become better at something, I must sometimes make an effort to open myself to criticism from others.

I often criticize myself. I set high goals and often cannot reach them. But criticism from yourself and criticism from someone else can be vastly different. To criticize yourself, you already realize that there is something wrong. When someone else criticizes you, you may not have realized that there was a problem. In fact, even after hearing the critical remarks, it may still be difficult to see that they apply to you. While some people may mistakenly note something that is not necessarily wrong, most criticism in the dojo is based on actual shortcomings and should be recognized as such.

There are times when someone will be critical of another, not as a catalyst for improvement, but out of spite or jealousy. This is not the type of criticism that I am considering here. I am focusing on the type of criticism that an instructor may offer a student or another instructor, or a student may give to a fellow student, in an effort to help the other to improve. Granted, there are some people who do not give criticism well, as there are those that do not accept criticism well. However, if done correctly, critical feedback can help us develop and is something that we should all welcome.

Recently, I had the members of my class examine each other's stance when performing techniques. As there was an odd number of students, I joined one of the lines, intentionally pairing up with one of the newest members. I did not do this hoping for him to be in awe of my superior technique. I lined up with him because I have too often lined up with my more senior students, who were unwilling to admit that they saw flaws in my technique. I was happy when this beginner told me that my front knee was moving slightly during some of my movements. This gave me something (more) to work on. I am grateful for that criticism. I think it is better to see that you have a mistake than to not see it. We all make mistakes. Acting as though one is perfect is a sure sign of imperfection.

When an instructor or senior informs a student of a mistake or a way to do things better, what is the proper response? Should the junior student counter the feedback with "You're not perfect either!" Or should the junior student accept everything said with a deep bow and an "Osu!," even if it is relatively insignificant?

I think the response to criticism should generally match the amount and tone of the criticism, while of course showing respect that is deserved. If the instructor or senior student is earnestly trying to help the junior student, the junior student should respond similarly, indicating in words and/or action that he understands and will try to improve that point. If the instructor ridicules the student and jokingly laughs at him, the student is probably not out of line joining in on the laughter and not necessarily thanking the instructor for noting the mistake. The former example is much healthier for both parties involved. The well-meaning instructor will often feel much better seeing a student trying hard to correct something just pointed out to him, than hearing a loud "Osu!" when it is obvious that the student was not listening at all.

One of my instructors in Japan told me that I should not train with my students. That is easy for him to say, as he is a member of the Instructors' Class in Tokyo, where he gets to train with other senior instructors 6 days/week. I do not have the luxury of being surrounded by other instructors at my dojo. Nor do I have the luxury of time. I have a busy day-job and another night-job besides my karate teaching, as well as a young child at home and lots of work to do fixing up the house and tending the garden. In order to train, I must do it by myself, with my students, or train with instructors at other dojo. Needless to say, I cannot do that much of any of these with my schedule as it is, so I do it wherever and whenever I can. Considering how seldom I get to train, I want to make the most out of it, realizing that my skill level may slip without training, even more so if I do not get any feedback. While analyzing my movements in the mirror and on videotape has its benefits, receiving criticism from someone else can add much value.

While some people can be overly critical, to the point that it can become counter-productive, it is something that, when done correctly, can really help us to improve. I suggest that everyone, including instructors, take the opportunity to listen to comments and suggestions by others. Sometimes it takes more humility than we thought. But it is usually worth the extra effort.

A final note on giving criticism. When critiquing someone else's performance, it is usually a good idea to mix the negative and positive feedback such that the tone is encouraging, not degrading. For example, when I have one person in class perform a kata in front of the rest of the group to receive feedback, I tell the others to give two comments; one negative (something to work on) and one positive (one area to feel proud of).

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

Most new students do not give it a second thought when their instructor or senior tells them that passing exams is necessary to advance in rank in karate. As the months and years roll by, however, some may wonder if the tests are really testing what they should, or if there should be exams at all.

As with many other facets of karate and the way its related activities are administered, there are positives and negatives that may be worth considering.

Positives:
• Gives the student feedback on his/her performance
• Gives other students an idea of relative ability
• Gives everyone (student, teacher and others) an opportunity to see how well the performer does under pressure
• Provides a goal for the student to aim for in training
• Provides teachers with primary curriculum for different level students

Negatives:
• Does not always reflect accurately the true ability of the performer, simply the performance at the time of the exam
• Favors athleticism
• Only tests a limited number of techniques and scenarios
• Some people do not like to take tests, either for fear of pressure or lack of interest

The process of kyu testing (pre-black belt) has the benefit of determining if the student has a sufficient grasp of the most basic techniques before advancing to the more complex techniques and combinations. At different levels, there are certain general points being looked at, in addition to the specific techniques of the exam. For the dan ranks, it is often more of a personal achievement, although more advanced technical skills are generally required for higher levels. For the higher ranks (usually over yondan), contributions to an organization are often a prerequisite in addition to "technical maturity" (an obviously ambiguous, subjective and perhaps arbitrary term).

To get around some of the exam shortcomings, whether real or perceived, examiners may want to consider that the ranking exams are often limited in their scope and that not everyone should be expected to be able to fit into the same mold in terms of physical technique and performance. This thought should also probably be explained to many students who may wonder why they failed when other passed an exam, or vise-versa. One way that I augment the traditional physical exams is by providing a written exam as well.

With the combination of physical and written exams, an examiner can get a better idea of the student's understanding of techniques and ideas for consideration when it may not be clear by simply watching his or her performance. For added reference, the physical exam may be videotaped. All of this is good for the examiner. But for the benefit of the student being tested, feedback on the physical and written exams, as well as a copy of the videotape, really should be provided after the exam for clarification as to what advancement in rank (if any) was decided upon. The examiner may also want to explain what the decision process involved.

Once a rank is achieved, others may sometimes question its validity. While some dojo may accept the rank of new members gained elsewhere, some do not. Usually, within a given organization, ranks are accepted between different dojo. But even this is sometimes not the case.

There are many different styles of karate and organizations that supply rank certification. It should be understood, however, that these ranks are not always accepted outside of those organizations, sometimes not even outside a particular dojo. Kyu rank is usually considered "dojo rank" in that it is up to the instructor of a new dojo if he will accept the kyu rank awarded elsewhere. Dan rank is usually a more official rank that is generally accepted at any dojo affiliated with the organization with which that rank is certified. That being said, it is still up to the instructor to decide who is to wear what color belt or where to stand/sit in the lineup when it concerns functions/hierarchy within the dojo. This should be because there may be a difference in standards or points of focus specific to a particular dojo, not just because the instructor wants to demean the new student.

For example, in my dojo I usually require new students to take a test with me, no matter where they may have received their previous rank, unless it is clear that they are up to the standards of my dojo. Most are not. I have a reputation of having higher technical standards than just about anyone else in the area teaching Shotokan. Some students may have been required to do more complicated combinations or some self-defense at their previous dojo. At my dojo, however, I require a higher level of understanding of the most basic techniques, as opposed to a shallow understanding of many so-called "advanced" techniques or tactics. Often, students who have transferred from another dojo, where they claim to have been a 4th kyu or 2nd kyu, or even a black belt, may have to wear a white belt for a while, or at least a belt level/color that they have more clearly earned. Some of my prospective students, hearing of this concept, decide to train elsewhere. Those who decide that the color of their belt is not as important as the level of training/teaching they receive usually do well and advance quickly. The ability to accept a "beginner's mind" is truly an asset to the learning process.

Rank exams and different colored belts have their purpose. They can be good tools for instructors, students and others to gauge relative abilities. If one has any doubts as to what is required at a given rank, where one stands in relation to others or how one is doing in training in general, I cannot emphasize enough that a student should consult with the instructor(s) for clarification and guidance.

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

My dojo has recently moved its location from a room with a wooden floor to a room with a hard mat. There are some advantages and some disadvantages to practicing karate on this new floor material. Below, I will review various floor types and some of their relative pros and cons.

Wood
Wood is the traditional floor material for karate practice. While some wood floors are quite hard and provide little cushioning, they are better for supporting stable stances. Also, turning on wood is usually easier than the alternatives, as the support foot can more smoothly pivot during the turn. Some things to consider regarding wood floors include the lack of cushioning and whether the floor becomes slippery when too damp or too wet. Also a floor may warp or crack over time if not properly constructed or taken care of.

Tatami
Tatami is the traditional floor material for martial arts such as aikido and judo, but is rarely used outside of Japan and, recently, even within Japan. Tatami is basically tightly-woven rice straw. Tatami mats have about the same amount of cushioning as a hard mat. This cushioning is especially important when doing falls, which are so prevalent in aikido and judo. Authentic tatmi is quite expensive to purchase and maintain, so synthetic substitutes (look like real tatami, but made of a rubbery plastic material) are now used in many dojo where the use of tatmi is desired but not financially practical.

Mat (single, stationary mat)
There are many types of mats. But most stable mat floors (single sheet pulled over a mat or mats, tied at the edges) are somewhat hard. While the feet may sometimes "stick" on a mat (unlike on a wood floor), which can cause unexpected damage to the joints, the added cushion can provide for a safer environment in which to practice falls in training, especially true with a softer mat. One must be careful when training on mats-even the single covering type-as small spaces between the mats (underneath the covering) can cause the support foot to move slightly or a toe could get stuck. Muscles in the legs may compensate for these small movements (or lack of movement) to avoid a fall. This situation, however, can lead to problems with the joints over time.

Mats (multiple, portable mats)
As with single mat floors, multiple mat surfaces can involve different amounts of cushioning. One of the potential problems with moveable mats is the chance that one or more of them could slip and cause unexpected movement of the supporting limb(s). Another common complaint with this type of surface is that the toes sometimes stick in the cracks between mats, which can cause mis-steps and even toe dislocation, ankle sprains or worse. Mats kept folded may be a good breeding ground for mold if left in a moist, warm location for a long time. Some airing out of the mats is recommended if not used often.

Grass
Training on grass outside can feel good emotionally, if the weather is nice. One thing that must be considered, however, is the very high risk of getting dirty. Sitting down on the grass or dirt in a white uniform can be very frustrating. Also, practitioners must be very careful to check the entire surface area for stray rocks, sticks and garbage before and during training. There is nothing inherently wrong with training with shoes on, except perhaps that the added weight can put additional stress on the knee during kicks. Another point to keep in mind is that dew sometimes forms on the grass more quickly and potently than might be expected. Dew can cause unwanted slipping when stepping or shifting. I remember one of Mori Sensei's summer camps in about 1984, when we were having our morning training out in the grass in bare feet. He had Sakurai Sensei (Canada) demonstrate the kata Empi, while we all watched through the intermittent fog. Landing from the jump at the end of the kata, Sakurai Sensei slipped a noticeable distance on the dew-covered grass. What impressed me about this was that despite sliding about two feet backwards, he kept his stance intact and only leaned slightly to compensate for the near fall. His good balance of leg tensions is, I am sure, what saved him from falling. Stance stability is something we need to keep in mind even more when training on wet grass.

Carpet
Carpet is one of the worst surfaces for regular training. Of course training on all types of surfaces has its benefits from a self-defense perspective, as we do not know what type of surface we might be attacked on until it happens. However, carpet is less than ideal for regular shoeless training, with the risk of rug-burns being one of the drawbacks. There is usually only minimal cushioning provided with carpeting, as concrete is usually less than an inch or so below the feet.

Concrete
Concrete is probably the worst surface presented here for barefoot training. There is no cushioning, so joints are in jeopardy. Being difficult to keep clean, stray pieces of garbage and uneven surfaces may cause abrasions on the bottom of the feet. With shoes on, concrete becomes a better training surface than carpet in terms of the latter's tendency for the feet to "stick" while turning.

Summary
There are various types of surfaces on which one can train that are not mentioned above. My view on training surfaces is that wood is the best for daily karate training. Some type of mat should be used when practicing falls. Training on surfaces other than wood is good for supplementary self-defense-oriented practice and, if wood is not available, usually better than no training at all!

Copyright © 2002, Jon Keeling

These days, there are several organizers promoting NHB ("No-Holds-Barred") competitions. These competitions go by names such as "Ultimate Fighting Championship" and "K-1." Competitors are usually very good at fighting and sometimes utilize some interesting techniques to overcome their opponents.

While I will not say that these competitions are completely without merit, I will say that I believe they do not always prove what is claimed. Most of the proponents of these events claim that all are welcome to participate and that the best fighters always win. While it is true that their competitors have come from various backgrounds, the qualification process is not entirely clear. There seems to be a bias towards those who are popular, or appear to the organizers to have the ability to become so. Most of them are unusually large, many in excess of 300lbs. That is not to say that some of the competitors are not good fighters. Many of the champions would probably be able to do a lot of damage to just about anyone, including me. What I am saying is that everyone is probably not actually given an equal chance to qualify for competition.

Regardless of the qualification process, of which I do not have any personal knowledge, there are other flaws in these competitions. Some of these flaws may be more obvious than others.

What are these competitions out to prove? Proponents claim that they prove who is the best fighter and/or what is the best fighting style. Often, the fighting style is not as important as the fighter. For example, a 3-foot tall man weighing 50 pounds could probably not overpower a 7-foot man weighing 400 pounds in hand-to-hand combat, even with extremely superior skill and advanced training in the most sophisticated style of martial arts. That is not to say that size is the only criteria either. Skill may be important, but there are more factors involved.

Let us presume that we have two equally experienced fighters from different styles, both with roughly the same physical abilities and attributes. They could even be identical twins in this theoretical experiment. With this type of scenario, the participant from the better style should win out, right?

Not necessarily. There are certain rules involved. This is not really a "no holds barred" competition to the extent that any method of fighting is allowed. Competitors cannot bite, eye-gouge, kick the groin, etc., which may be very common in some self-defense systems. Some martial arts may fair poorly in the type of competition that does not allow some of their techniques or tactics.

Furthermore, the setting of the fight may give one fighter an advantage over another. In some of the NHB competitions, the floors are heavily padded. This type of flooring gives an advantage to grappling martial arts over kicking/punching/striking arts. To most effectively execute a kick, punch or strike requires a base from which to project the striking weapon (foot, fist, etc.). The effectiveness of these techniques is diminished as a result of the absorption of pressure at this non-rigid surface. More specifically, grapplers that rely on twisting, turning and tumbling may have an advantage in this type of atmosphere, compared to competitors from "striking" arts that rely more on projecting their techniques from a stable stance that is pushing with the foot/feet into a solid surface/floor.

While NHB competition may prove, to some extent, which martial art is better in combat against which other martial art, I must question how valuable these results really are, even if true. What does it matter if a jujutsu stylist can beat a kickboxer, a karate stylist can overcome a judo practitioner and a wrestler can best an aikidoka? Do we really do martial arts in order to defend against other martial artists? If we are practicing our martial arts with self-defense in mind, we must think about a range of possible adversaries, as well as what different ways there may be to deal with those adversaries in various situations. Being able to withstand a kick to the head as you tackle your opponent and quickly put him into a headlock from which he cannot escape may have its value. But if someone grabs your wrist on the street corner and you try to execute the same technique on him, you may find yourself in trouble; especially if it turns out it was an innocent bystander trying to pull you out of the way of an oncoming car. In this type of situation, the aikido practitioner might do better than those of any of the other martial arts. Yet, aikido practitioners have probably done worse in NHB than anyone else. This should make one think: What are all these people really training for?

What these NHB competitions really provide is entertainment value. I do not have a problem with them as such, anymore than I have a problem with watching "professional wrestling" as an occasional deviation from the rigors of an overly-serious life. I just hope that people understand the limited value of these competitions, particularly concerning what they may actually prove.

Regardless of which martial art (or no martial art) representative wins these matches, does this mean that everyone should start studying that particular fighting method? First of all, different people have different goals, body types and abilities. What works for a short, stocky person may not work for someone tall and thin. What works for someone young and agile may not work for someone old and stiff. Also, some martial arts take longer to become proficient than others, particularly for some people who are not used to that type of activity. Furthermore, even if one decides he wants to practice a given martial art, that does not mean that he will be good at it. Much depends upon the instructor's ability to pass on skill and understanding. As stated in my article on teaching, having a good teacher who is not a superior performer may be more important than having a naturally gifted athlete who is not particularly skilled as an instructor.

Finally, the value of a given martial art as an effective form of fighting with other martial artists, or even self-defense against attackers on the street, is not the only criteria on which the merits of a martial art should be judged. In particular, when we consider the "-Do" arts (Aikido, Karatedo, etc.), where the Do really stands for something (simple translation: "path" or "way." implication: includes non-physical development), sometimes there is much more to gain from training than physical skill alone.

Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling

Tournaments can hold different value for different people. For some competitors, they are a chance to test how good one's kata or kumite looks compared to others of similar rank. For some spectators, they are opportunities to get a better idea of what is possible in karate. For some instructors, they are a motivational tool to try to get students to train harder. There are various reasons to consider getting involved in tournaments. While there are some who believe tournaments have no value and avoid them completely, there are others who seem to focus on competition to the detriment of training itself.

I have had my share of tournament experience. I have competed in various Shotokan and multi-style tournaments in Japan and the US, including several All-Japans representing Tokyo (which requires placing in the top 8 in the Tokyo tournament). I have additionally watched numerous national and international competitions and have dozens of them on videotape. I have acted as a coach. I have been a corner referee and a center judge. I have helped with tournament organization and promotion. All of this, and I do not consider tournament competition to be so important relative to many other aspects of Karate. That being said, I still think it has its benefits.

Some people are just not interested in competing. Some older practitioners consider tournaments an activity for young people. While it may be true that many attributes of athleticism deteriorate after one reaches his/her thirties, some qualities can continue to be improved for decades after that. Some people in their 60's look better doing their kata than some of the best of those in their 20's and 30's now placing in tournaments. While athleticism plays a part in many competitions, some look beyond this. One should realize that the old saying is true: "It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game."

Some people feel that they simply are not qualified to compete, as they know many others who are competing are more likely to win. Competition should not be against others as much as against oneself. By this, I mean than one should push oneself to reach new heights previously thought unattainable. While tournaments may not be necessary as inspiration, they can be a good judge of progress.

Some instructors and senior practitioners feel embarrassed to be beaten by younger black belts, perhaps even a student. I have lost kumite rounds to people of lesser experience and ability than myself. In many cases, we both knew that outside of a tournament situation, there would be no doubt as to who was better. That being said, some big, strong participants often lose tournaments to small, weak opponents who, realistically, might not stand a chance in an all-out actual encounter. We must realize that tournaments are about points; they are a game. While this game may at times be realistic, it is not reality. For this reason, winning or losing should not be considered of the highest importance.

What, then, is the advantage to winning in a tournament? One of the biggest advantages I see to winning multiple-round kumite competition is the chance to gain more experience with various people. With more unknowns, this additional experience could be quite valuable. For this reason, I would be just as happy placing in the final rounds, regardless of which color the medal was (or winning no medal at all). Alternatively, I would rather just spend the time doing non-tournament practice with various people outside of a competitive environment than sit around waiting for my turn to compete. For kata competition, one of the main advantages of tournament performance over regular dojo performance is facing the added anxiety involved being publicly scrutinized. Who is a better kata performer is usually relatively clear. This is a why the same person may be seen winning the kata portion of a competition year after year, while kumite winners change (the best man does not always win, due to varying circumstances, including luck).

What might make a tournament more valuable than regular training? I think regular training is, generally, more valuable for overall improvement. If taking part in activities outside of regular dojo classes, I would also place training at outside seminars at higher priority than tournaments. But there is still value to tournaments and other extra-dojo activities. Sometimes these extra-curricular activities help as motivational tools and often help to bring family and friends closer to what you enjoy doing.

I see several potential negative parts related to tournament competition:
• For some competitors, tournaments are the reason for training. Competition is the means and the end. All their training is competition-oriented, if they train at all.
• Some competitors like to show off and are only there to win. Some competitors like to show off before the judge, their peers and the spectators, even if they do not win.
• Some promoters exaggerate the value of their tournaments in order to make unreasonable profit (profit is not bad, per se, but trying to convince competitors that the tournament is extremely important is).
• Some promoters put on tournaments in an effort to gain promotion within their organization, as tournaments are a way to get money and popularity for the organization.

I see these potentially positive facets to tournament involvement:
• As unrealistic as it might be, the experience can be valuable.
• Tournament training is better than no training at all.
• It helps spread understanding and appreciation (although sometimes not entirely accurate) of karate to those who otherwise might not have opportunity to see it.
• Watching and/or competing in a tournament, as well as meeting others there, can be fun.
• It can be an inspirational experience.
• Watching high-quality performance can be a good training aid.
• Observing mistakes in the performance of others can be a resource for self-evaluation.
• Concentration required in the face of anxiety can be valuable emotional training that may help in an actual self-defense situation.

To summarize, I think tournaments have many potential positive and negative facets. As with so many other aspects of karate, it generally true that much of what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.

Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling

The procedure of lining up and bowing in or out at the beginning or end of a training session may have seemed completely foreign to some of us when we first saw or experienced it. While its practice is usually understood, or at least accepted, by almost all karateka, many westerners may become somewhat uncomfortable when faced with an unfamiliar situation. There are many rules associated with these procedures; some more important or rigid than others.

There are various opinions in the west as to why and how we line up or bow. Training in some dojo begins and ends without any line-up or bow at all. Some places only have an informal, standing bow, sometimes without lining up. I have heard about one place which has a circular "line-up," the idea being that everyone is learning from the others. Some places I have visited included separate bows to the sempai or coach, in addition to the main instructor. Where people sit is sometimes a source of confusion, as is how close to each other people should sit, the timing of the bows and more. There are so many ways these things can be done, it is no wonder that there are people who have been doing it for years and still are not sure of all the unwritten rules. As I have been unable to locate any written rules, I will try to give at least an introductory explanation/description here in hopes that it may help provide some clarification.

While there are various points of view on this subject around the world, I would like to present here the method presently followed by the JKA in Japan, at least according to what I have learned of the subject through my own experiences and discussions with others. Even in Japan, the procedures sometimes differ between dojo. But the rules are generally the same and simply interpreted slightly differently.

First, some terminology:
Sensei = Instructor. Literally, the term means "life before," which refers to the idea that the instructor has a generation's worth of experience ahead of the student. In some cases, this may be true. Sometimes, students are actually senior to the official instructor of the class, in terms of who started training when. Generally, the instructor is the sensei, whether actually very senior or not.
Seito = Student.
Sempai = Senior. As with all these terms, this is a relational term. A particular student might be a very senior member of the dojo and therefore referred to as sempai by other students. But instructors would never call him "sempai," unless they were referring to his position in relation to the more junior students.
Kohai = Junior. Again, a relative term.

A person can be more than one of the above, even all of the above, in relation to another in the dojo. For example, I could have a student (seito) at a university dojo who started his training after me (kohai) while we were both students, even though he was a graduate student (sempai) while I was an undergraduate and he is my teacher (sensei) of kendo. How we address each other would depend on the situation. In the karate class, he would call me sensei. In the locker room, he may call me sempai when discussing our early years of training while we were both students under the previous instructor. I may call him sempai when recalling our student lives outside of karate and sensei when talking about kendo with him.

Placement of the shomen (front)

For most dojo outside of Japan, the shomen is simply the direction that makes the most sense when taking into consideration the size and shape of the room, in addition to the placement of the door(s) and windows.

In Japan, sometimes other factors are taken into consideration and the traditional rules are more strictly followed. According to one of the JKA Honbu (headquarters) Dojo instructors: "Karate Dojos in Japan are, logically, linked to Japanese culture and religion. According to Shinto rules, I have been told, the altar (shinzen) in the dojo should be oriented preferably to the East, and people should line up facing it in descending order from right to left. If this is not possible, then it (the shinzen) should be oriented to the South or West (in that order). North should be avoided by all means. Before a lesson, students should salute (rei) the shinzen, and then the instructor."

The basics of the line-up/bowing procedure (according to general JKA practice):
The senior student usually shouts "Seiretsu!" or "line-up" to begin the class. Usually, the instructor is already present. But sometimes the class will line up and await the instructor's entrance onto the dojo floor. After everyone is in the proper place, the instructor sits in seiza and the senior student then shouts "Seiza!" The students all sit down in unison. Sometimes, there is a moment of silence, often with the eyes closed (not typical in a JKA dojo in Japan). Then, the senior student shouts "Shomen-ni rei!" (bow to the front) and all students and instructor bow the front. Next, the instructor turns to face the students and the senior student shouts "Sensei-ni rei!" (bow to the instructor) and everyone bows. Occasionally, there is an additional bow to the kantoku (coach or, literally, "director") or dai-sempai (one so far senior as to be effectively another instructor) at this point; in Japan, this often happens at university dojo. Following these bows, everyone stands and class begins. The procedure is almost the same at the end, with the addition of mokuso (moment of silence) and the dojo-kun's recital before the bows. If there is no instructor present, the senior will sometimes announce Otagai-ni rei!" (bow to each other), instead of "sensei-ni rei."



Key: 
I = Instructor/Sensei
C = Coach/Dai-sempai or Kantoku
P = Pupil/Seito
Numbers represent seniority, 1 being the most senior

If there are many instructors in the dojo, the main/chief instructor is usually the only one that would sit in the center. All other instructors, in order of rank, sit further back and to the side, the most junior instructor sitting just in front of the senior students. Here is one place things start to get fuzzy. What happens if there is a more senior instructor who teaches at the dojo, but is not currently in class? Should the senior instructor present take the frontal position? In the JKA Honbu Dojo, as well as many others I have visited in Japan, nobody but the senior instructor is to take the position in the center, reserved for him, even if that instructor is nowhere nearby. What if the senior instructor retires or moves away? In cases such as this, the new senior instructor takes the place of the old one and sits in the center.

It can get even fuzzier. If the instructor always sits in the front and is referred to as sensei, what happens when the instructor is away and a senior student leads the class? Is that person to sit in the front and be addressed as sensei? What about when an instructor of the dojo wants some extra training and joins in with the students while another instructor is teaching? There are different, correct theories on this subject. Some traditionalists will say that the order must be maintained, that the instructors have earned their places, and everything should be in order of rank no matter what function people are playing. Others, also following the same rules, interpreted differently, will say that people are to sit/stand according to the roles that they are filling during that particular class.

I tend to agree more with the second interpretation, above, and sometimes change my position in the line-up depending on my function for that class. When there is a visiting instructor at my dojo and I am training along with my students, I will assume the senior student role. I sometimes take this spot as well when I decide to train during a class of repetition, where I am not really "teaching," per se. My way is not the only correct way. But it does follow the rules of line-up/bowing etiquette.

For more on bowing, please see my April 1998 article.

For more on changing roles between teacher and student, please see my June 2001 article.

If you have any questions, please feel free to write to me directly.

Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling

Supplementary Training in Other Martial Arts and Karate Styles

Many martial artists are familiar with the old story of the sword master who visited another warrior to learn a new martial art. If my memory is correct, the story involves the sword master sitting down for tea while boasting about his experience and abilities. The warrior poured his visitor a cup of tea while listening. He continued filling the cup until it overflowed. The sword master was alarmed at this and demanded an explanation. The warrior pouring tea told the sword master that he must "empty his cup" before he should expect to be able to fill it again (=learn something new).

When studying a new martial art, as with just about any subject that is related to, but different from, the original martial art/style, one must be able to assume a "beginner's mind" (shoshin, in Japanese). The person who begins a new art thinking that his prior abilities will mean faster advancement may end up learning more slowly than someone with no prior experience or someone who is able to let go of prior assumptions.

I have had some exposure to various martial arts, including several styles of Karate. I do not claim to be able to perform anything but Shotokan Karate with any degree of expertise. But I have taken part in enough of several activities, in addition to having read and discussed enough about them, to know the main concepts of each and how their practice can be blended for supplemental training.

Karate is primarily a punching/kicking/striking art form. Shotokan in particular generally focuses on low stances and proper body mechanics; form taking precedence over function. Other styles of Karate may emphasize more of technique application, sparring strategy, etc. Obviously, even the same style could look or feel much different depending on the school, instructor or location; even from class-to-class with the same instructor.

As Karate is a punch/kick/strike art, the practice of another punch/kick/strike art, such as Tae-Kwon-Do or weaponless styles of Kung-fu, may be of limited use as a supplement to Karate; possibly only causing confusion. That being said, some have found the study of kata from Goju-ryu, for example, to be a nice change of pace from the kata of Shotokan.

While Shotokan does include grappling maneuvers as possible interpretations for many of its techniques, these applications are usually not emphasized in training. For those who wish to do more of this, Aikido or Judo may be good complementary training. (Note that Aikijutsu and Jujutsu are more practical-oriented versions of the "softer" Aikido and Judo, which include non-physical aspects that the -jutsu versions may not. Similar relationships exist between Karatedo and Karatejutsu, Kendo and Kenjutsu, etc.)

Early in Shotokan's history, many practiced with traditional weapons such as bo (staff), sai and tonfa. Most Shotokan dojo do not include weapons' training in their curriculum. For those who would like to travel that route, training in weapon arts such as Kendo, Naginatado and Iaido may be good complementary training.
Regardless of what other martial art or style of Karate practiced, it is a good idea to keep in mind the practice of "emptying your cup." There is no need to *completely* empty your cup. Some concepts carry over from one martial art to another, such as the idea of keeping a stable center, conscience of proper posture and understanding that martial arts should only be used for defense. Some concepts, however, do not carry over.

I have seen big, strong people try to use their size and strength to show their superiority vs the smaller, lighter Aikidoka, only to have them fall to the floor in pain as a result. If they had been able to "flow" as is done in Aikido more than in Karate, they could have learned something painlessly. Just because you can do one thing well does not mean that you need to be the best at everything. To think that your students or fellow classmates would think less of you if you admit that you do not know a different martial art is immature. Sometimes it is faster to get to the top of a hill by starting at the bottom and going straight up, rather than pretending you are qualified to lead and trying to begin closer to the top than is productive.

At a special training session at my dojo in January, there were high-ranking instructors from different weapons' arts demonstrating their arts. During the Shotokan portion of the event, these instructors had no problem taking part as "students" while they tried something new. They did not perform their techniques any better than the Karate students who had just started class a few weeks prior. But they were fine with this. They could "empty their cups" so they could learn something. They did. And it felt good to see this.

There is no need to fill more than one cup. But if you desire to learn more than one martial art or style of Karate, keep your intentions in mind and know what is worth keeping and what is worth discarding, "emptying your cup" as appropriate.


Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling

One of the most widely recognized characteristics of karate practice is the use of shouting. Although most people realize that Bruce Lee’s unnatural, drawn-out, high-pitched noises were meant more as movie spectacle than anything else, it is true that shouts are an integral part of regular karate practice.

But is this shout simply a shout? Or is there some deeper meaning? Does it symbolize something? Or is it just a display of machismo?

Let us begin by analyzing the kanji (Japanese/Chinese characters) used to write the term.



Ki means "energy."*

Ai means "meet" or "join" or "come together."

The term therefore means "joining energy" or something to that effect. It is the channeling or focusing of energy, bringing together all the energy one can muster. Usually, this concentration of energy is combined with an audible expulsion of breath. The actual shout is not necessary in kiai, but it is a usual bi-product of it. There is such a thing as a "silent kiai." But for most I would suggest making a sound if the instructor asks for a kiai, to be sure not to be unintentionally offensive.

The kiai has several possible uses. I will review its four main uses below:

To scare or startle the opponent/attacker
Both in a dojo/tournament situation and in self-defense, it is fairly obvious that it is usually to one’s advantage to be able to startle someone. In this use of the kiai, the audible portion might not occur simultaneously with the kiai, or even with a technique, for that matter.

To get attention (in a self-defense situation)
Whether or not an attacker is scared off or startled by the defender’s shout, in a self-defense situation, others may hear the sound and come to see what is happening. Many would-be attackers are afraid of getting caught and if they think someone is going to find out about what they are doing, they may stop the attack. Of course self-defense scenarios can be complicated and I am not implying that the shouting will help in every situation. However, getting attention with your voice is a possible outcome.

To provide spirit
Whether or not one ends up startling the opponent/attacker, shouting can give the defender (the person emitting the kiai) spirit. When combined with a startled attacker, the defender’s spirit may rise even more.

To coordinate breathing and muscular contraction
Breathing out as you shout (try shouting while breathing in for an interesting exercise) is more condusive to contraction of the muscles of the torso. This contraction of the torso muscles is a desired state when delivering many attacks, as it can help ‘connect’ various body parts for increased overall momentum transfer. It can also aid in making a more resilient target for any potential counterattacks from the opponent/attacker. For more on breathing, please see my March 2000 article.


Some beginners misunderstand and think that the kiai is supposed to be the sound "kiai." Any sound can be used as the audible representation of the kiai. Usually, the best sounds are monosyllabic. Depending on what you want to accomplish with the shout, it could be longer or shorter, end in a vowel or consonant. For a sharp, abruptly-stopping technique, a short sound, ending with a consonant, might be ideal. For a motion that is intended to pass through a target, it may be better to let the sound trail off with a vowel ending. The way you emit sound has a relationship with your breathing, which should be considered when trying to match a sound to a technique. During your own private practice, I would suggest experimenting with several different sounds for a variety of techniques to hear and feel the differences in breathing, muscular tension and spirit.

As with many other subjects covered in my articles, I would suggest asking your instructor for feedback regarding your kiai. There is only so much one can learn about a subject such as this through the written word alone.


Copyright © 2001, Jon Keeling

There are many reasons that people decide to do Karate. Some practice, some train, some workout, some just "do" Karate. It is fine if the reason you do it differs from the reason someone else does. Below are some of the main reasons given, as well as some of my thoughts concerning those reasons.

Self-Defense
This is probably the most often quoted reason to do Karate and usually one of the first an instructor will mention to a prospective student. Probably, most people join Karate classes with the desire to better defend themselves being at least one of the goals. After a while, it may become apparent that there are better ways to prepare for a self-defense encounter than marching up and down the dojo floor doing basic combinations and tournament drills. Nonetheless, there is little doubt that, over the years, self-defense ability usually increases considerably for those who do Karate. More than simply learning physical skills, Karate can enable us to better understand that a threatening situation may be around the corner and allow us to avoid it. Training can also give us strength and confidence that can better ward off potential thugs from a distance, as they usually prey on those who appear weak.

As with any other goal, if self-defense is one of the reasons you do Karate, I would suggest keeping that in mind as you train. Do not think that winning a tournament or doing basic technique correctly will, in itself, prepare you effectively for an encounter on the street. It might. But it can help a lot if you train with that goal in mind.

Health/Exercise
There is no doubt that Karate is one of the best forms of exercise that exist. There may be some that are more aerobic, others that are more strenuous. But, overall, Karate ranks very high. Fortunately, one does not have to be in perfect shape to do it. That really couldn't be said honestly about many sports that have similar status as a form of exercise.

To gain the most out of the health/exercise potential of training, again the goal should be considered often while training. Do you sufficiently warm up before stretching? Do you stretch out enough before training? Did you build up the muscular activity gradually (not just starting with jumping kicks)? Is your heart rate in its proper range? Are you going for aerobic, or anaerobic exercise? Are you drinking enough fluids? Are your body parts aligned properly to best use your muscles and protect your joints? Just mindlessly following the count may still provide you with a workout. But, just as with self-defense, keeping your mind on your goal can help you attain it.

Self-improvement
There are many facets to self-improvement. Many of them are included here in this article. There is no doubt that there is a chance at improving oneself through Karate. How and how much differ widely.

What is probably most important to realize with this concept, and something that is not often revealed by instructors to potential students, is that self-improvement is ultimately up to the individual. That is why it is called self-improvement. Karate can help to facilitate this. Ultimately, however, it is really up to you.

Character Development
This one is debatable. Some instructors will tell prospective students that their classes, especially the kids classes, aim toward developing the character of the students. While improving students' level of politeness and helping them learn analytical and other skills besides the obvious physical skills, character may or may not be developed as a direct result of training. It may, however, be easier for those students to develop their character in the right ways, indirectly related to training. By acting more polite and analyzing situations more than their peers, the Karate students may be more receptive to enriching their characters. Kids doing Karate may listen more to their parents and other adults, having become used to listening to their Karate instructor(s), and therefore be more apt to learn good character traits from them. This is not a proven fact. But I would suspect it may be true.

As with self-improvement, character-development is really up to the individual.

Discipline
See above. Discipline to do what one is told is not necessarily a great trait to have, at least not to do things without thinking for oneself. Disciplining oneself to get to the dojo on a regular basis for class is a good trait. Discipline can be improved through, or perhaps for Karate. Disciplining yourself to keep up with a class full of younger students, to push yourself harder, to think more about reality as you train-these are ways in which Karate can facilitate discipline. But it is something that should be done individually. Instructors should encourage, not discipline. Karate is not the military, nor should it be.

"A Way of Life"
Some people try to live the "Bushido Way." You may want to live every day like a samurai. Although this may seem noble to some, it is not all that practical in the modern world. To be ready for a self-defense encounter all the time is good. To act as though you're ready, though, may give people the impression that you are a freak. Keep that "Samurai" inside. There is nothing wrong with devoting a large chunk of your life to Karate (I hope not; I have!). But there are other aspects of life which need to be kept in balance.

Training to Train
Some people just train to train. They need no particular reason. They like doing it. That's all there is to it. Sometimes this is good. Sometimes one just needs to sweat it out, to forget about all the things that happened at work or school that day. While training without a specific goal is good sometimes, though, if that is the way it is every day, chances are that development is being hampered. Training without thinking may impede progression. Sometimes this is fine. Sometimes, however, we need to focus our minds on the task at hand and think about our training, not just repeating moves mindlessly.

Bad Reasons to Train
Some people train or instruct Karate to dominate or hurt others. This can be a serious problem. It may be a good idea to seek professional psychiatric help if this is why you do Karate.

Some train or teach to show off. These people usually like to explain things to everyone who will listen. Some of these people have nothing worth listening to. Not to say that everyone who displays ability or explains how they perceive Karate is bad. But if this appears to be the reason that one goes to the dojo, there may be a problem.
Some instructors teach to make money. Although I have no problem with charging for classes and even living off this money, many instructors who have money-making as the main goal of their teaching lose their love of the art and stop trying to learn more themselves. Making money through teaching Karate is fine. But that should not be the all-encompassing reason for teaching.

Why Not?
A very good friend of mine had a philosophy final exam that consisted of one question: "Why?" His answer was simply: "Why not?" Somehow, he passed. Don't worry if you don't have the perfect answer when people ask you why you do Karate. You don't always need a reason to do something, especially when it's something as good as Karate!


Copyright © 2000, Jon Keeling

More interested in subjects such as biomechanics, I was hesitant to write an article on etiquette. But this subject was requested by two different people in July. So here goes…

General Etiquette
I do not wish this article to be overly detailed, as etiquette does differ greatly from place to place. What is considered acceptable in one country may be considered rude in another. Etiquette followed in a children's class may differ from what goes on in a college class, which may also differ from how things are done in a class filled with older practitioners. If what I write here does not make sense to you, please feel free to question it. My experience is mostly limited to life and training in the US and Japan, and the situation may be different for you for reasons of culture or lifestyle. My feeling, though, is that at least some basic rules of good etiquette should be followed while training.

Bowing
"When in doubt, bow" is an idea I adopted when I first arrived in Japan. This, I believe, helped me greatly to gain acceptance in the dojo. Humility is generally considered a virtue in almost every culture. But perhaps this is especially true in Japan.

Bows are required at most dojo when entering the training area, when greeting the instructor, before and after kumite sets, before and after kata sets, and various other times. There is of course a chance that one could bow too much. But better too much than too little, I think.

For more on bowing, please see my 4/98 article.

Osu
This term is often used in traditional Karate dojo. It is not, however, used by ALL martial artists. It is not even used by all Karate practitioners. If nobody else you know says it, maybe you should not either. If your entire dojo says it, maybe you should as well. It should be noted, however, that the term is really limited in its usage to greetings and accepting criticism. "Osu?" as a question, for example, makes no sense whatsoever.

Coming to training late, missing class, visiting another dojo
The rules for all of these may differ greatly from one dojo to another, even within the same organization and even within a 10-mile area. Some instructors demand students call in advance if they plan on being late to class or missing class. Some students are required to sit in seiza for several minutes before being allowed to join a class already in progress. Some instructors do not allow visitors to train without watching at least one class first and asking permission formally. I do not require so much formal etiquette in my dojo. I do, however, demand that students at my dojo train seriously while in class, even if they can't make it to every class and work keeps them from making it on time sometimes.

Asking questions
Some instructors do not like students to ask questions. In my experience, it seems that most of these instructors are afraid of not knowing the answers. Some questions are better left unasked and/or unanswered, such as if a beginner asks a question about an advanced kata or sparring combination he saw a black belt performing. Personally, I enjoy answering questions from students; it is usually a sign that they are thinking, which is generally a good thing.

Anarchy isn't so great and discussion time in class should be limited in an effort to maximize physical training time. But occasional questions on the subject being studied in that particular class can sometimes help not only the questioning student but also other students (and sometimes even the instructors). This provides the opportunity for all involved to rethink what they are doing such that they might improve faster than simply repeating the physical movements over and over.

Sensei/Seito
Sensei is the title of the instructor. I may go into more detail in a future article on the exact meaning of this and other Japanese terms. But for now, suffice it to say that the Sensei is the instructor and the seito is the student. In Japanese, the title comes after the name. In most western countries, the title (such as Mr.) comes before the name. In the west, therefore, it is acceptable most places to call an instructor "X Sensei" or "Sensei X."

Personally, I don't really care if my students call me "Sensei" or "Jon." But I would not like to be called "Sempai" or "Keeling." "Sempai" is an incorrect term for a student to use when addressing an instructor. And calling someone by family name (without a title, that is) is also generally considered rude even in the US, at least according to my upbringing; and this is especially true in Japan.

Please note: Titles such as Sensei used by someone referring to him/herself is usually a sign that that person is not worthy of that title, or at least lacks humility. The only real acceptable exception to this might be when addressing children who do not yet understand social etiquette, as a way of enforcing a degree of order and discipline, such as when a teacher in grade school tells her class that she is "Mrs. Smith."

Sempai/Kohai
Just as there is a hierarchical difference between sensei and seito, there is a difference between sempai (senior) and kohai (junior). In some places, such as Japan, this difference is very important. In Japan, it is not unusual to see someone of far superior abilities call an older person "Sempai," simply because the older person began training earlier.

One thing strange I have noticed recently, particularly in the US, is some individuals seem to try to "claim" their sempai status. As an example of this, there are some who will make a point of pushing toward the senior end of the lineup whenever possible. It seems to me that many of the people doing this may be undeserving of their rank. Ability should be clear enough that the junior practitioners provide space for their seniors at the senior end of the lineup. Of course this is a two-way street. Many of the lower ranks simply do not realize the ability of their seniors. When in doubt, though, it is usually considered a sign of good etiquette and humility to only line up ahead of those who offer you a position on their senior side.

Souji (cleaning)
It is a custom of most traditional dojo to clean at least the floor of the training area before and/or after class. In my dojo, it is done before class, as we train in a fitness club and the room is used by other groups during the day. Some dojo use damp rags, others use dry rags. Still others use mops or brooms.

Some claim that the cleaning process is symbolic of a cleansing of the soul or a polishing of the spirit or some such thing. Whatever…cleaning is cleaning. If you want to think deeply about it, feel free. But just make sure you don't miss a spot; that's far more important.

In most dojo, the Sensei do/does not clean the floor with the students. The main idea with this seems to be that the instructor has put in many years cleaning the floor and deserves a break. Another idea is that the students are the ones training on the dojo floor and thus should want to have a clean surface on which to train. When there are only a few students in the room when my dojo floor is cleaned, I usually join in. I may not clean as much as some of the students do, but I do bring the bucket of rags home each night and rinse them through. This takes far longer than cleaning the floor. So I don't feel guilty about letting students clean a little more than me sometimes.

In the JKA Honbu dojo in Tokyo, instructors do not take part in the regular class cleaning of the floor. But the instructors have a separate, more thorough cleaning of other areas of the dojo on a regular basis. This is true of many other dojo as well. So although many instructors may appear to be slacking, they often are simply reallocating their cleaning time.

Summary
No matter what your particular dojo may require in terms of etiquette, remember that actions speak louder than words. Bow deeply and show respect where it is deserved. But don't spend too much time thinking about proper procedure at the expense of actually showing proper etiquette. Do what you feel is right. If you mean to show respect and good etiquette, but end up saying the wrong word by accident, this will not really matter all that much. Your true intentions usually show through. People usually see others for who they really are.

For more on dojo etiquette, please see the Yale dojo site. (I found this site just after I finished writing this. Coincidentally, it includes many of the same points.)


Copyright © 1999, Jon Keeling

*(Makiwara means, literally, "rolled straw." Nowadays, the straw is usually replaced with a cotton pad and is normally placed on a flexible post. Sometimes, instead of placing the pad on a post, it is attached to a spring mechanism mounted directly on a wall.)

Many traditional karate practitioners realize the value of using a makiwara. Some modern karate practitioners opt for a heavy bag instead. Regardless of what is being hit, having feedback from devices such as these can be of great value. This feedback can help you figure out how powerful your punch really is and what it feels like to make contact with something.

Some mistakenly believe that the prime objective of striking a makiwara is to build up the calluses of the punching knuckles. Do you think a violinist does conditioning practice to create the calluses on his/her fingers? A professional violinist develops "pads" on the fingers of the left hand, as a result of constantly pressing against the strings. From repetitious practice, calluses often develop. But these do little to help the practitioner. They are merely a side effect of practice. The idea of using the makiwara to strengthen the fist is not totally wrong. But it is not the knuckles that are being conditioned; it is the wrist and the rest of the arm that are being conditioned to make a more effective technique.



When punching a makiwara (or anything else), several things should be considered that you should always consider while punching the air as well. Check your distance from the target and your stance. Check that you are properly channeling the power of your legs (see March 1998 article for more on the subject). Check that the alignment of your arm during the punch is correct, that you are properly using the hips and that you are properly coordinating the tensing of various muscles involved (see February 1998 article for more on this).

When punching a makiwara (or heavy bag, for that matter), a few things should be considered that may make the punch slightly different than that of air-punching. First of all, if you try to rotate your wrist at the very last moment into impact, you may be jeopardizing the health of your wrist and/or hand. You may need to change the timing of the rotation slightly (not much though) or leave out the wrist rotation altogether.

There is a tendency while punching an object for the practitioner to "push" the punch. If you want to develop pushing power, do push-ups or weight-lifting. Pushing with brute strength is of little use while punching. Pushing is not the same as power. Keep in mind that power is created through a combination of speed and transfer of mass (Force = Mass x Acceleration). As you learn when punching an object such as a makiwara or bag, speed is not in itself sufficient. But neither is just pushing power. You must reach your target quickly and powerfully. Also, one should realize while practicing with a light punching bag that a would-be attacker would most likely be harder to "push" than that bag. This is one reason why the makiwara may be a more realistic training tool; it doesn't move much (but should move enough to absorb some of the shock so as not to ruin the user's joints).

For more information on makiwara use and construction, please see the following:
Makiwara


Copyright © 1998, Jon Keeling

Most Karate practitioners bow many times each time they visit the dojo. Some bow every time they enter the dojo, at the beginning and end of class, at the beginning and end of every kata (form) repetition and every time they face a new partner in kumite (sparring) practice. Most take it for granted that this ritual is a necessary part of their Karate experience, whether it holds some cultural significance (since Karate is, after all, Japanese) or as a way of expressing humility and/or respect for partners/instructors. Some have their doubts about the value of bowing and a few people even refuse to bow in class due to religious conflicts. I am not going to argue the validity of such complaints. I would like to just review the most general bowing ideas here.



Looking at the kanji (pictogram) for "rei," we can imagine the origin of this character being a representation of someone kneeling in prayer. Japanese kanji can have many meanings, and this one is no exception. "Rei," when combined with other kanji, can signify prayer, courtesy, thanking, or bowing, among others. Although a bow can be considered an integral part of prayer, the bow of Karate is seldom confused with a religious rite. Japanese are generally not very religious. In Japan, the bow is used much more often in business or social situations than bearing any religious significance. It is most often used much the same way as a handshake in the western world; as a greeting (as when entering a business meeting), symbolic of some sort of combined accomplishment or mutual understanding (such when signing a contract) or as a display of gratitude (when receiving an award).

Some western Karate practitioners have given up the use of bowing in their classes altogether. This is their choice, but I would not like to be a part of such a group if at least some form of respect/courtesy were not used in its place (such as a handshake, which takes even more time and effort, so what is the point?).

I have spent a total of eight years living in Japan, beginning in 1985. In Japan, I became accustomed to bowing subconsciously as I greeted shopkeepers on my street and thanked delivery people when they brought my pizza. Back in the U.S., I notice that a lot of karateka don't seem to understand proper bowing procedure. I understand that it is something new to most of us and I don't expect everyone to just "get it." But if you're going to do it, shouldn't you do it right?

First, I would like to review the concept of bowing as a way of opening and closing. Whether it be a ceremony or a business meeting, it's basically the same; much like the symbolic handshake. For this bowing application, they occur in sets of two. I recently attended a tournament in which both participants and judges seemed unsure of when they should bow, and how many times. When in doubt, check to see if your bows "match-up" in pairs.

One way to think about bowing is like parentheses in mathematics. You can have a formula: a = (b + c(d)/(e+f(g)/h) - i) But a formula such as: a = (b +c(d/(e+f(g/h - i) doesn't make any sense, because the parentheses don't match up. Bow when you meet a new partner. Bow again when you finish. Bow when you start a new kata. Bow again when you finish. Every bow should be matched up with another to make the formula work. (There are, of course, additional bows sometimes to accept criticism from an instructor or to show extra thanks at the end of class. But the ceremonial and display-of-mutual-respect bows should match up, anyway.) A very short class, therefore, might look something like this (bows represented by parentheses):

(( (taiso/warm-up) (kihon/basics) turn around and fix your karategi (more basics) stretch (kata) (another kata) stretch (kumite/sparring practice with one partner)(sparring with another partner)(warm-down) ))

In kumite, bow when you start and bow when you finish. You can add another bow if you are accepting criticism or congratulating your partner/opponent for a point. But, in general, only the opening and closing bows are required. This may, of course, be slightly different in other styles/organizations, but this is the general idea.

Next, I would like to review the basic types of bows. Bows range from the very informal nod of the head that most of us would use to agree with someone's casual comments, to the very formal seated bow. Japanese learn the subtle differences through the entire spectrum of bowing types. Westerners should not be expected to become perfect at these bowing subtleties, but a brief review might prove interesting for some.

Although good enough for most of your friends, a simple nod of the head is considered somewhat rude in the Japanese culture. Even for the slightest bows, the neck usually does not bend. The entire torso leans forward, with the neck straight. For the more formal bows, simply bring the entire torso--back & neck straight--further forward.

For standing bows, the hands should remain lightly touching the sides of the legs, without moving them, for men. Women sometimes slide their hands inward and downward in formal situations, but this is rarely seen in Karate dojo. With seated bows, hands should slide directly forward to in front of the knees. Women sometimes bring their hands closer together, as with the formal standing bow.

As far as the position of the eyes goes, there seem to be different opinions on the subject. Some think that it is rude to look an instructor in the eyes when bowing. Some say that you should keep looking into your partner's eyes as you bow. Are these different types of bows, or are they the same? For realistic budo/self-defense practicality reasons, remaining conscious of your partner/opponent's position is a good idea. But should you make extra effort to maintain eye contact specifically? I think that you should continue to watch his/her body, but there is not much advantage to looking at the eyes in particular (actual sparring is another story, which I will not get into here). Lowering the eyes is a sign of modesty, and is used in formal bowing in Japan often. But showing gratitude for receiving correction from an instructor is not necessarily worthy of such a deep, downward-looking bow. Apologizing for hitting your partner too hard, maybe.

I don't want to get any further into the different gradations of the bowing ritual here. Someday, I will be adding graphics here to illustrate the different types. If you have any specific questions, please consult a native Japanese person, as any more detail would require a proper physical example.

Copyright © 1998, Jon Keeling