Sunday, December 2, 2012

Beyond the Block: The Language of Fighting

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Beyond the Block:  The Language of Fighting
by Corey Padnos

“Use you’re words, not your fists.”  -Your misinformed elementary school teachers on the playground.

“Make sure it’s an honest punch.”-Martin Wheeler

Months ago, an honest punch seemed like an analogy for “give em’ a good one” so that you can practice for a more real world application for fighting.

That’s only part of the equation.

As humans as a whole, we communicate both verbally and physically.  In our daily jobs we’re oftentimes only stuck with the verbal side of things.  Some even troll on the Internet with ever-devolving and harsh language because there isn’t a physical outlet.  (In my opinion, some physical altercations—as brutal as it can be—are more honest that some anonymous jerk blogging with vulgarity against somebody on a web forum.)  There is a physical communication that needs to take place.  Martial Art or any sort of physical training with intent helps educate how to place yourself physically near somebody and to be comfortable. In a way, when you train your physicality, you train your comfort level on intimacy.  I want to make a distinction:  Not sexual intimacy, but physical intimacy.  Every punch you throw, every time you wrap your forearms around an opponent’s neck, every time you dig your feet into somebody’s knee caps—you are trying to use physical contact to elicit a reaction to better understand who they are and how they understand touch.  The entire premise of a fight is that it is—at its core—a conversation.  I strive to understand this statement every time I train Systema. 

Author’s note:  I think fighting is a less than optimal form of communication.  Please don’t judge me for not yet understanding it.  This lack of knowledge on my part is why I train martial art—the language of fighting—in order to better communicate with others who speak it so well.

What I learned was that I need to understand somebody’s physical motives better.  When I’m attacked, I need to go beyond the block psychology.   A block is a shield that stops momentum.  This is one reason why Systema emphasizes flow and constant movement instead of countering force with more force.  If I were having a conversation with you—verbal or physical—why would I want to put my arms up and stop it?

Having flow and constant movement requires compassion for your opponent. When he or she starts a fight, you have to let them attack you and use your movements to let them speak their piece.  Once you understand the heart of the issue—their tension, structural faults, missteps, etc.—only then can you effectively communicate with your body.  Only finally when your opponent yields onto the ground, he or she understand your point of view.

I write this article as a promise, to you, my training partners or future training partners, that I look forward to starting a dialogue and striving to be honest with you.  My intent now is give my practice partners and opponents fully committed attacks so that we both can learn how to better communicate.  I strive for:  No more stopping half way through a strike, performing speeds that don’t match my partner, or even being afraid during training so that my strikes have anger.

Thank you for reading my words.  I look forward to “having a chat.”

Monday, October 1, 2012

What is Tension?

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What is Tension?

It’s a simple yet complicated answer:  Tension is ignorance in its physical manifestation.

Why we tense up:
It’s our body’s natural response to protect us from some external influence that’s deemed a “threat”—or something the body doesn’t yet understand.  You ever wonder why your shoulders slouch forward, neck veins start flaring up and you end up tensing some other part of your body that has nothing to do with an exercise?  That’s because your body is scared of:

1.     a movement it’s not familiar with
2.     a food it can’t stomach
3.     a life stress it can’t take

When you’re tense, you use up more energy than you need in order to accomplish a movement.  The plus side of this is hypertrophy training for muscle gain, but I’m pretty sure any article on T-Nation can explain that better than I can.  I want to tell you about the implications to your body about constantly moving in an inefficient movement pattern.

Tension requires concentrated neuromuscular activation.  The more tension you use, the more you trigger a metabolic effect in your body.  In other words, you will use more energy at a cellular level to accomplish even the simplest of tasks.  The lesson is to think about the movement you are performing with intent and ask yourself:  Do I really need to use this much energy?

If your answer is yes, the goal is to think about how to perform that movement with less tension.  Some ways to do that:
1.     Breath more efficiently.  If you don’t know how to properly take in or expel air, you will gas yourself out at the worst possible moment
2.     Unload the movement.  Even if it’s just by a little bit, you can perform a movement more efficiently with less load.
3.     Load the movement.  Perhaps your body needs that extra stimulus from touch or more weight to gain more flexibility.
4.     Relax other parts of the body that aren’t pertinent to your prime movers

Think about it like this:  You’ve done the heaviest deadlift you’ve ever done.  It wasn’t perfect form, but it was a PR.  So, no harm, no foul, right?  Eh…Well, if you’re power lifting for competition or doing a 1 rep max day, I’ll give you a high five.  However, if you’re training such high tension to the point where you aren’t walking like you’re on a cloud—you just might want to reevaluate what you’re doing. 

Let’s take it a step back from the barbell:  What if your calf tenses up with every step when you’re going on your morning run?  What if you can’t flip a burger at your famous summer BBQ because you did too many farmer’s walks?  What if you can’t catch a ball during the game because you’re thinking too much about your new baby on the way?   In fact, what if you can’t just go to the bathroom because you just had a stressful call at work and you’ve lost your breath? 

Tension has neural carryover into every movement we perform.  The more relaxed the movement, the less tension we carry.  The less tension we carry, the more efficiently we move.

When you train, play, and move, strive to move as efficiently as you can in all different planes of movement.   Explore movement to educate your body on how to best maximize its potential in both performance and the sport of life.

What’s your favorite tension-free movement that is your body’s personal reset button?

Thursday, September 20, 2012

The Science of Getting Pissed Off

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The Science of Getting Pissed Off

I had a bad day yesterday.  When I have bad days, I get stressed.  When I get stressed, I smash.  However, I don’t smash with intent like I normally do.

I want to make a huge distinction between being angry and frustrated to the point of being stressed.  Anger has been proven to jack up testosterone levels and lower cortisol.[1]  That’s why you’ll see a lot of Power Lifters listening to “angry” music:  It’s great for testosterone levels!   I’ll be the first to admit that when I train for shorter sets, I’m blasting rap or loud rock music.

My premise for this post:  I view anger as a feeling, a state of mind:  Stress is a hormonal trip.

From neurological and holistic standpoint, being angry for long periods causes stress.   Think about it:  Would you really like to be in the exact same mindset that you use for a 5 X 5 deadlift set while you’re at work crunching numbers or trying to meditate?  Didn’t think so.

When you’re stressed, your body reacts by releasing a hormone called cortisol.  (I know I mentioned it above, so you know it’s important.)  Cortisol numbs out pain for a bit, but when the pain finally sets in, you’re not only fighting a terrible feeling but also a hormonal imbalance.  Yet another reason to train for zen.  (End shameless blog plug.)

Personally, when I get stressed out, I can’t see.  Last night I was training Systema and couldn’t see the demos that my teacher was performing because I was mentally distracted and, hence, hormonally out of wack.  Imagine learning counter leg sweeps and you have no clue what is going on.  I got thrown around a lot last night...Last night hurt. 

I know, I know…starting my training in a compromised mood was a noob move.  I’m not perfect but I saved the night.

What did I do?  I slowed down my work with my training partners to ensure that my movements were more accurate so that I could try a higher speed later on.  Vision is the skill of seeing and processing data and then making a decision.[2]  If my visual intake isn’t sharp, there’s no way I’m going to be fast enough to learn or perform combat moves.   So, I slowed it down until I finally got a taste of the basics.   Was it optimal?  No.   Did I try my best to salvage it?  Yes. 

If you--like me--need to calm yourself down to achieve better training results, practice breath work, slow down your training speeds, train vision and balance, and use dynamic joint mobility to loosen up.  A body that is more calm is more efficient. 

Bottom line:  Emotions are what they are during training:  Controlling or letting them go is a personal choice.   However, stress has some major detrimental implications to your body’s endocrinology and as a result seriously messes with your training.

I know other people that can handle stress better—even while training—but I’m still working on it.  I definitely know that no matter what come November Kettlebell nationals, I can’t let stress mess with my performance and to uphold my training philosophy to practice relaxation.

At the end of every Systema class, we sit down and share our takeaways from the training session.  I concluded:  “There’s a difference between wanting something and being pissed off.  I guess that when I have to defend myself, I don’t have the luxury to be pissed off.”

Well, we know my stress manifests itself visually.  How does stress mess with your training and what do you do about it?

Sources:
1.     Neus Herrero, Marien Gadea, Gabriel Rodríguez-Alarcón, Raúl Espert, Alicia Salvador. “What happens when we get angry? Hormonal, cardiovascular and asymmetrical brain responses”. Hormones and Behavior 57: 276-283, marzo de 2010. http://phys.org/news194528309.html#jCp
2.     Wilson, Thomas A., and Jeffrey E. Falkel. SportsVision: Training for Better Performance. Champaign, IL: Human Kinetics, 2004


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

How do You Define Fighting?

How do You Define Fighting?

I have two months until Nationals.  On top of the usual Kettlebell training, I’ve amped up my conditioning and breath work by cross-training Systema about four to six hours a week.  I plan on competing next to guys far taller and heavier (read stronger) than myself so my relaxation training is imperative. 

In training for this competition, I can't help but explore the contradiction in my training: I use weights but can’t use only muscle and I must rely on a perfect breathing cycle to maintain a high work capacity.  The irony isn’t lost on me.  I wonder:  Am I fighting during my training?

I don’t define a fight as a bout between people.  When I mean fight, I mean struggle, power through with grace, and attempt to overcome.  (NOTE:  This is my take of the concept of fighting:  I welcome constructive disagreement and other interpretations.)  If I lose my cool during competition, that means I’m fighting.  Competition is a lot different than training:  If you lose your cool, you lose reps.  When I have a clock on me I don’t have the luxury to cry, drop my bells, or even tense up.  That’s why I love training so much.  I can cut loose, try whatever I want, and handle my emotions accordingly—no judges.  I get to fight and I get to be reckless in a controlled setting.

In my last competition, my belt caught on my skin and led to a cut under my belly.  If I were training, I would have dropped the bells and tended to my wound.  Instead, I kept lifting and concentrated on my breath and fixation from my fighting during my training.   I have a scar from that competition but for the trophy I won.  Totally worth it.  My point:  I wasn’t fighting.  I was showcasing the culmination of my fight-filled journey. 

I’m in a fortunate position where I don’t have to fight for my life.  I train—I fight—to strengthen my life. 

Dear reader, how do you fight?