The pieces are finally coming together

August was pretty much a wash as far as training went. My sprained finger on my right hand prohibited me from paricipating in boxing and kickboxing class, but I still did combat fitness class and spent more time on cardio. Oddly, though, having time away from boxing and kickboxing actually made me better. Last week I was able to start taking classes again and during sparring at the end of kickboxing class I felt really good. I started to do things instinctively: I'm stepping offline without thinking about it, I cover up on every punch I throw, my head moves side to side as I punch and ... dare I say I almost have a decent entry that allows me to close distance.  It's almost as if having time off allowed the knowledge in my head to congeal, ferment, age, whatever you want to call it, but it's no longer purely intellectual knowledge; now that knowledge lives in my arms and legs and hips.

Last night's boxing class (9-4)  was large, many new faces and many young guys who had no clue about what they were doing. Seeing them go through the drills made me realize just how far I have come in my training. September makes it eight months since I started learning boxing and kick boxing and it's only now that I'm starting to feel like I'm putting all the pieces together. This should be good news for the newbies. The stuff that seems impossible now will become second nature. If the mechanics of throwing a proper punch mystify you now, in a few months all will be revealed. And if you get injured and are sidelined for a few a weeks, know that your training doesn't come to a stop. Just because you can't punch bags or people doesn't mean you can't learn and build on your knowledge. Get in front of a mirror and practice your movement and combinations, envision yourself sparring and think about how you would counter or enter. Keep at it and in eight months - maybe sooner - a new guy will come to class and it will make you realize how far you'e come.

Learning good things from bad boxers

Having a finger splint on my right hand has significantly reduced what I can do. No punching. Lifting weights is pretty tough. So that means I'm doing lots of abs and legs.

An x-ray determined that my right hand pinkie finger is not broken, just badly sprained. And I guess if there was a time for an injury like this happen, now is ok. I had more time to watch the Olympics. Watching countless hours of boxing taught me some important info., especially the early, preliminary rounds where some of the fighters seemed to have only a smigden more skill than me. I was able to learn more from watching bad fighters than I learned from watching good fighters. A bad fighter's mistakes are very easy to see, whether it's their lack of movement, not using the jab, too much movement .... it's basically easier to see what makes a bad figher bad than a good fighter good. A good fighter's movement is very fluid, it's fast and concealed and their punches and steps all blend together.

Teddy Atlas, one of the announcers, while criticized by many for bad coverage, taught me some important rules. Atlas had no problem pointing out what a fighter was doing wrong, and many times I  could relate because I know they are things I do wrong. During one fight, one of the boxer's was just bouncing up and down. Sure, he was moving, but there was no point to his movement. He wasn't moving forward, or offline, he was just bouncing. All the bouncing was doing was wasting his energy. Atlas had a field day ripping this guy apart. His critique solidified in my mind a few things that have been taught to me: you can't punch and move at the same time and you can't avoid a punch when you're bouncing up and down. Your feet have to be on the ground to do anything. This was pure gold to me and gave me a much greater understanding of what I should be doing with my feet.

My pinkie hurts. A better punch will end the pain

I haven't gone to a doctor, so there's no official diagnosis, but I definitely screwed up my little finger on my right hand. It's not broken 'cause there's no serious swelling and it's not black and blue, but heavy punching is definitely off the table for a while. What I have is a lite version of a boxer's break. A boxer's break is damage to the 4th and 5th metacarpals, or the ring finger and pinkie finger.

What happened is that over the course of a few weeks I was consistently landing my right crosses on my pinkie finger. After these repeated strikes it just gave out, got sprained, cracked or something. So no punching for a while ... sort of. What I need to do is improve my strikes so that I'm landing on the larger knuckles. I'm spending time on the double-end bag throwing soft punches to try and improve my form. I'm only wearing wraps - no boxing gloves - when I do this so I can see where on my hand I'm impacting the bag.

A guy in the gym suggested using a Muay Thai punch to eliminate the possibility of landing the punch on the small knuckles. This punching style requires rotation of the arm so that on impact with the target your thumb is facing the ground. Make a fist and hold your arm so that your thumb is facing the ground and you'll see that this position forces the two larger knuckles to be in front of the smaller knucles.

There's no substitute for real

Haganah instructor Dave had me doing a cool drill on Saturday morning. With time to kill between combat fitness class and FIGHT class, Dave asked,  "Want to do some knife sparring?"   Don't ever pass up the chance to train one-on-one with someone who knows their shit.

We got two rubber knives and started sparring in the boxing ring. Time after time Dave was connecting to my shoulder with a slow straight stab (while sparring, we use the shoulder as a target in place of the neck for safety purposes). OK, so he got a lethal stab in. I won't let that happen again, I thought to myself. And then, in another minute he got me with the same move. In hindsight I understand what he was doing. Dave was able to read my attack and change the rhythm of his own attack to score the lethal stab. Every time he got me with the straight stab it was after I had done an angle 1 attack (slashing from my right shoulder to my left hip. When my knife was at the bottom of the slash, in came Dave's blade. It was not a fast attack, just a well thought out and properly executed stab that was able to penetrate because he read my rhythm.

After Dave "killed" me several times, he changed up the scenario to incorporate open hand knife defense. We would start knife sparring, but on Dave's command I had to drop my knife and deal with his knife attack while unarmed. This added a nice element of realism to the training. It would not be unusual to drop a knife during a knife fight and have to continue to deal with the attack.

With any training, the more realistic you can make it the harder it becomes to perform. I know the various open hand knife defenses. I can recite each step. I can visualize every move. I can perform every move .... that is, until the situation approaches real. Once the situation becomes stressful and pseudo-real, my  intellectual understanding of the techniques does me no good. My reactions must be based on muscle memory and impulse, there's really no time for thinking.  This is a critical lesson I'm really starting to appreciate.

Like a real knife attack would be, once I dropped my knife and had to switch from attack to open hand defense, I had no clue as to what angle Dave would be attacking from and I had to execute my defense in real time. This meant that my grip used to seize his arm was sometimes wrong - not using positive and negative grip, and on an angle two attack, once I seized the arm I did not transition it properly so I ended up in the incorrect point of reference (I was behind him instead of being squared up in front of him). There were also moments when I realized I did something wrong and I hesitated. While it's good to realize a mistake, it's bad to hesitate. No matter what position you find yourself in, you just have to work with what you have.

It was only 30 minutes that I got to spend training with Dave, but those 30 minutes taught me more than weeks of regular training could.

Bloody knuckles indicate bad form

This aluminum knife is what we use
for training. There is no edge or point.
For sparring we use flexible rubber knives.

I've been dedicating time this week to some knife work, practicing box drills on a heavy bag. Practicing the slash-stab on a heavy bag helps me determine my ideal range and it's also helping me adhere to proper form when performing the slash. Bloody knuckles on my knife hand were a clear indicator that my slashing needs serious improvement. Bloody knuckles tell me that my wrist is not bent properly and I'm not turning my shoulder properly, so instead of the blade making contact with the bag, I'm first contacting the bag with my knuckles and only making contact with the blade when I'm almost at the end of the slashing motion. This is no good. What's the point of fighting with a knife if the knife isn't contacting the target? The blade should be doing all the work, not my knuckles. I would have never discovered this poor form if I wasn't practicing on the bag.


Boxing Class
We're reviewing basics this weeks: proper punching form and proper power blocking for head and body shots. I'm good on punching form but  my power blocks need some help. The key to power blocking is to block with the same side of your body as your opponent is using. So if my opponent throws a left jab, I'm blocking it with my right hand. He throws a right, I block with my left. The reasons for matching your block to your opponent's punch are simple: if I block a left jab with my left hand I'm twisting my body to the point where I'm turning my head to the side and losing visual contact of my opponent. It also screws up my distribution of weight on my legs. A power block requires your weight to be shifted to the leg - if I power block with my left hand, my weight should shift to my left leg. This becomes more important when countering your opponents punches. If I power block with my left hand I should be immediately counter punching with that left hand. The thinking is that you don't want your opponent occupying your weapons (your fists) with his punches.

My major malfunction with power blocking is using the wrong hand to block with. My blocking form is OK, but I'm still using my left hand to block a left punch. This needs practice, mental awareness and the ability to read my opponent's punches.

Working the heavy bags during knife fighting

This week’s I.P.T.T (Israeli Professional Tactical Training) knife class (July 7) was small, only three students, so we got some very personal attention and the chance to work on movement with the heavy bags. And movement, whether it’s in boxing, kick boxing, knife fighting or pillow fighting, is the key to being good and not getting hurt. So after we did our basic box drills - slashing and stabbing from different points of entry - we moved over to the heavy bags and worked on how to shadow our opponent, closing distance and attacking on angles. While movement in knife fighting is similar to that in boxing – rear foot propels the body forward, never cross your legs, etc. –  the difference is that your stance is reversed. In boxing, since I’m right handed I stand with my left foot out front, but in knife fighting, since I’m right handed and holding the knife in my right hand, I stand with my right foot forward.

This was the first time we got to use the heavy bags in knife class and I’m glad we had the chance. We practiced taking two steps toward the bag with our second step moving us offline and to the right of the bag and then we would pivot in, slash and stab and then keep moving.

At the end of class we practiced a little bit on timing the entry of our attack by reading the rhythm of our opponent’s attack. Here’s how we did it: my partner would stab at me, I would blade my body (turn it sideways to create a small target in case my block fails) and block his stab by keeping my knife at a 90 degree angle to my wrist and driving the blade, just above the hilt, into his forearm. On my opponent’s second stab and after my block, I would immediately go on the attack by grasping the forearm of the hand my opponent’s knife was in, stepping in then slashing the arm and continuing the slash across the mid-section, stab to the ribs, push his arm away and slash the tendons behind the knee. This is a standard block and entry we practice all the time. However, since it was a small class, the instructor, Victor, a former Marine fighter pilot, added another move. Once you slash across the mid-section and stab to the mid-section, before pushing the opponent’s knife arm away and slashing behind the knee, since I already have a hold of my opponent’s arm, it’s a simple step to force the arm backwards exposing the armpit and driving the knife upward to slash the armpit and then slash the knee and pivot.

I know it's really hard to visualize this stuff unless you’ve done it before, but the armpit slash is a nice little addition to that attack. While I can sit here and write about how to do it, actually being able to do it properly still eludes me. To practice this, Victor suggested hanging a towel in a doorway and pretending that the towel is my opponent’s arm. I did this when I got home and it totally works.

Beach Burpees

I'm taking it pretty easy this week since I'm on vacation down in Cape May. I've been laying on the beach for about six hours each day, reading, floating in the ocean, stuffing my face with seafood and drinking about six pack of Victory lager a day, however, despite my week of leisure, this past Saturday morning just didn't seem right without some combat fitness.

The place I'm staying in is close enough to the beach that I could a throw a medicine ball and hit it,  so it was only natural to hit the sand for some beach burpees. I did a leisurely 1-mile barefoot run to an isolated part of the beach where signs warn you not to proceed any further. Beyond those signs is a live fire range used by the  Coast Guard.

Since sprints have become a regular fixture at Saturday classes, I couldn't resist sprinting on the wet sand. Then I did our basic stuff: squats, jumping jacks, push-ups, burpees ... all while facing the distant horizon where the Atlantic and the sky merge.

Despite the pleasant setting, doing this stuff on the sand adds a little bit of difficulty since it gives way beneath feet and hands, but the sand also temporarily kept the record of my workout in the burrows dug from my burpees and the divets cut by my sprints until the next high tide wiped it away.

When I was all done, dripping sweat and breathing hard, I only needed to take five steps before I was submerged in the cooling ocean waters.

I'll close out this blog post with a modified version of how we end each class: Heroes don't quit! - but on occassion they do go on vacation.