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.

Happy B-Day Sir

We were warned that Wednesday's combat fitness class would be challenging. "You're gonna hate it," Mr. Stuart said to us at the end of class on Monday night and pretty much told us how bad it would suck and how hot it was going to be.

It was hot, but the air conditioning was on, it was mild in the gym and combat fitness, while it involved some tough sets, I don't considered it one of the hardest classes I've been through... at least not physically. However, it was tough psychologically. You see, at the beginning of class Mr. Stuart announced that it was his 53rd birthday and then, as is the case in every combat fitness class, he went on to out perform everyone, even 19 and 20 year olds who are in very good shape.

While that can be a bitter pill to swallow - seeing a man twice your age kick your ass - it offers hope to a guy like me who's 39. It offers hope because it says you don't have to get old if you don't want to. It says that fitness can be yours as long as you never stop. It says that even when the muscles and tendons and joints cause you pain and try to limit your performance, experience, will and sheer determination will defeat youth.

Action is faster than reaction

Last week's boxing class had us focussing on breaking our opponent's rythm. Letting your opponent build rhythm is bad. When your opponent builds rhythm you become the bass drum they're beating on.

The main drill we worked to break rhythm was jabbing our opponent the moment they reached their set line. Set line is the point at which your opponent can reach you with their weapons. Set line is different for everyone because it is dependent upon size and reach. The drill involved starting in no man's land. No man's land is where you cannot reach your opponent with kicks or punches and your opponent cannot reach you with kicks or punches. From no man's land we would step to our firing line. The firing line is the point where you are just out of punching distance, but one more step will get you to your set line and close enough to connect to your opponent. As soon as our opponent reached their set line, BLAMO, we would fire a  jab to break their rhythm and disrupt their plans.

This technique is cool because it's prempting the attack. You're not waiting to slip or sit, you're jamming up your opponent so that the attack never materializes. It's like being in a battle and letting your enemy's jet fighters taxi out of the hangers and while they're idling on the tarmac waiting for takeoff you fly by and straff them. Don't let them get off the ground and then rely on evasive maneuvers and chaff to avoid their rockets. Kill 'em before they ever take off, or jab 'em before they can throw a punch. Just like you have to let the jets come out of the hangers and into the open where they be can be seen before being destroyed, you have to let your opponent move closer to you and reach their set line before you can break their rhythm.

I really dig the idea of stiffling the attack instead of responding to the attack. It might sound dumb, but it was a revelation to me. It was one of those AHAH moments. I thought to myself, I don't have to wait until my opponent punches and then react. Matter of fact, I should never really be reacting to my opponent's moves unless I'm reacting offensively, like if they drop their guard and I can fire in a punch. My opponent should be reacting to my moves. Action is always faster than reaction.

The same thing applies to a slip. I dont' have to wait to see the punch coming and then decide to slip it. I am slow and not very good at slipping once the punch is on its way. But, if I see my opponent moving and getting ready to reach his set line, I could slip, step in and deliver some hooks to the body, or I could jab and then slip and step.

In my totally unprofessional opinion, I think it's important to note that while our intention is to break our opponent's rhythm with a jab, that moment doesn't exist in a bubble. Keep in my mind that the jab's job is to stabilize your opponent in order to land more punches. Always punch in combinations. Don't just jab and let them restart their attack. Jab, step in and land some body shots.

I thought I had the breaking rhythm thing down, and then in our next class Mr. Stuart turned that thinking on its head. He had us practicing moving from no man's land to our firing line, then our set line, but we were doing it with the intention of drawing our opponent's jab so that we could slip and step in to land hooks to the body.

This is getting into the chess aspect of boxing where you're thinking a few moves down the road to lure your opponent into a trap. It's way too advanced for me. I would just end up creating a trap for myself.

So, while it's good to break your opponent's rhythm by jabbing when they reach their set line, you could be walking into a trap. That said, it doesn't mean you don't jab to break the rhythm, it means you have to be aware of what might be coming at you once you jab.

Self destruction is reconstruction

Rare is the time when some part of my body doesn't hurt. My hips are sore just about every day and for the last week there's been a small spot on my left elbow that reacts dramatically from the slightest touch. The top of my right foot hurts, a sharp, sporadic pain right at the base of my toes. And my left quad has a knot, or a tear, or whatever goes wrong with a muscle being called on to do sprints at 8:40 on a Saturday morning.

Not working out, just giving up isn't an option. And really, it's only during class that the pains go away. When my body is moving, jumping, running, punching it doesn't hurt. It's sitting at my desk at work when my hips scream out to be stretched, or my elbow bangs into an open drawer.

So it becomes routine to use the foam roller after class, apply ice packs, wraps, drink ginger tea and for the most part just become accustomed to to constant, mild discomfort.

The exercise is the cause and the cure. I'm sore because I exercise and I feel better because I exercise.

There is a certain element of self-destruction to taking classes five days a week. But this self-destruction is more in line with reconstruction. In order to renovate an old house you must first strip it to the bones and go from there.

Get the drop on your opponent

A boxing/kickboxing class doesn't go by without the importance of changing levels being stressed. Switching up your attack from head to body, or head to legs if kickboxing, is critical in mounting an effective and damaging attack on your opponent. The idea behind it is simple: if you get punched in the face, all of your attention goes to your face and not being hit there again. Your mind says, "That hurt. Don't let it happen again," so you cover up for the anticipated follow up punch to your face. That's a basic survival instinct hardwired into your brain and it's also an instinct you have to try and overcome because with all of your attention/defense focused on not getting hit in the face again you leave the rest of your body open for attack.

This shows the drop right. The fighter
on the right as avoided the jab by sitting
and then he fires the drop right.

Going upstairs then downstairs with your attack creates unpredictability. In classes this week we have been practicing the drop right and the left hook to the body with an immediate left hook to the head. The drop right is simply a straight right handed punch thrown to the stomach from a crouch or sitting position. Your opponent fires a jab, you avoid the punch by sitting and then blasting them with a right to the gut. The mechanics of the drop right are the same as throwing a right from the standing position - generate torque by pushing with your legs and rotating your hips. For the left hook to the body and head, we practiced this by avoiding a left jab thrown by our opponent by stepping to 11 o' clock. This closes distance, gets you inside the pocket and in great position to employ the left hook to the body followed by an immediate left hook to the head.

Switching levels, going upstairs then downstairs, whatever you want to call it, it works. And it works defensively as well as offensively. If I get punched in the face I'm thinking about avoiding another punch to the face. I'm not thinking about my exposed midsection. Likewise, if I'm attacking the head, my focus is upstairs and therefor an effective and surprising counter from my opponent would be to go downstairs. This is where the drop right becomes a sweet, sweet move.

Although I've not used this combo in sparring, just during shadow boxing, it seems that using a combo of jab-right-jab-right-jab and then throwing in the drop right is good way of lulling your opponent into a rhythm and then breaking that rhythm of working upstairs by going downstairs with the drop right.

Would you rather face a big pistol, or a little pistol?

If given the option of having to take a bullet fired from a .22 or a .45, there's no question I'm going to prefer being shot with the .22. However, if facing an attacker armed with a pistol, I want him to be brandishing a monstrous handgun, think Dirty Harry or Desert Eagle. Reason being is that it's way easier to grab a large pistol than it is to grab a small pistol, there's just more of the weapon exposed when it's large. Small pistols, like snubnose revolvers and .380s, get almost entirely concealed by the hand holding them, leaving very little surface area for grabbing and ripping.

We've been practicing our handgun disarms with three different pistols: a large frame Glock, a snubnose revolver with external hammer and a tiny, pocket-sized .380. Without a doubt, the Glock is the easiest pistol to take from the attacker because it presents a large surface area to grab because so much of it protrudes from the hand, and for that same reason it also offers leverage points when wrenching it from the attacker's hand. The tiny Keltec .380 is very difficult to grab, and due to its short length it is very common to place a finger or part of your palm directly over the muzzle. That's not where you want your hand to be. The small revolver is also tough to grab without a part of your hand being in the line of fire.

So, while a larger pistol might look intimidating and pack a larger caliber bullet, it's actually easier to take away from the attacker.

Is it a plateau or a rut?

Saturday’s combat fitness class was another doozy. No sprints or split sets at each station of the circuit, but there were hundreds – literally hundreds – of crunches. So many crunches that, besides my abdominals hurting, the front of my neck hurts from holding my head off of the mat for so long. Jumping rope replaced the morning run and the typical circuit was thrown out the window. Instead of 10 or 11 stations on the circuit, there were only 4 on Saturday: pull-ups, hanging knee lifts, dips and tricep raises (hands behind your back on a low wall, legs straight out in front of your body and resting on heels and you raise and lower your body). We split into groups of three and all three people had to complete three sets at each station before moving on to the next station. Our first set was 15 reps, second set 12 reps, third set 10 reps. It was tough, especially the pull ups. Fifteen is about the most pull ups I can do on a good day, so trying to do 12 after doing 15 is next to impossible for me.

I haven’t been pleased with my fitness performance lately. Mr. Stuart says I’ve hit a plateau, but I feel like it’s worse than a plateau. I feel like I’m regressing. While I’m seeing improvement in my fighting skills, I’m not seeing improvement in my fitness. This is frustrating. Two elements from Saturday’s class highlighted my fitness stagnation: push ups and pull ups. The amount I can do really hasn’t increased in months. If we use these two exercises as a way to measure overall fitness, I’m standing still. I guess I need to start pushing myself harder and always try to do one more pull up than I could do the week before. Actually, what I need to do is a fitness test so I know exactly what my max is for several exercises. I wish I did this when I first started class more than a year ago, that would have given me a much clearer picture of progress. I can say without a doubt that I’m way more fit than I was when I first started, but just how much I can’t say.

Almost six months of boxing and it ain't getting no easier

June will mark six months since I started learning how to fight. And while I've learned a lot in that time, I'm constantly aware of how much more there is to learn. It's not like when I started that I thought I'd become a fighter after two months of training, but I didn't figure on it being this difficult, either. But the other day it occurred to me just how much of a challenge it is to learn a combat sport, much more of challenge than learning golf or tennis. I'm not saying golf or tennis are easy to learn, but the non-contact nature of those sports does make them easier to learn than fighting.

Maybe I'm just looking for reassurance or excuses to make me feel better, but learning how to punch and block is tough. Let's use the seemingly simple task of blocking or avoiding an opponent's punch and then counter attacking from defense. On paper this is a very simple process: opponent throws a left jab, I power block with my right hand counter with a straight right, a left hook to the body and then a right hook to the head. Simple, right? Not at all. Within these moves are numerous variables and skills within skills.

Let's break it down. My opponent throws a left jab at my head. Right from the start I'm faced with numerous decisions to make on how to avoid this punch. I can slip, power block, sit, shoulder roll, weave or lean back. Anyone of those six options can take weeks to properly learn and whichever method I select will color how I counter attack. So let's say I power block the jab, this is probably the easiest method for me, and counter with a straight right. If I properly do the power block (fist on forehead, wrist rolled out, elbow tucked to body) I can immediately throw the counter with my right. Now a whole different set of skills comes into play when I punch: Did I step in properly? Did I align my shoulder with the target? Did I get enough rotational torque into the punch by using my legs to push backwards and forward? Did I cover my face with my left hand? Did I move my head offline by shifting to the left?

Let's assume I've done everything correct. I blocked the punch and landed my counter punch. Now I want to throw my second punch (always counter with three punches). Since I threw a straight right and properly moved offline I'm in position to close distance and move close to my opponent so I can land body punches. Now I have to employ a skill different from blocking and punching, I have to step in and to the side of my opponent and let loose a left hook to the body. Throwing a left hook is way different than throwing a straight right, so this punch requires a whole different knowledge base and muscle memory. And if I land my left hook to the body I still need to throw one more punch. This could be another left hook to the body or head, that would keep it simple, or it could a jab or another straight right if I decide to pivot out. And if I decide to pivot out I'm using another entirely separate knowledge base and muscle memory to accomplish it.

Performing this action of blocking a punch and counter attacking is difficult enough with a compliant partner. When your opponent is not being compliant and is actually being the exact opposite of compliant and trying to punch you in the face, performing these actions grows in difficulty ten fold.

The point is: don't get discouraged. It can take people years to perfect their golf swing and that's without having to avoid punches flying at their face. Learning how to fight is a long, hard road that requires physical stamina, learning proper form, learning tactics, making split-second decisions, employing and controlling aggression and breathing and doing it all properly while another person is trying to hurt you.

The burning in my legs

May 26 is a day that will live in infamy. It's now May 29 and my legs have still not recovered from the sprints we did during Saturday's class. That's with two solid days of rest and still I grimace getting out of a chair.

Saturday's class started with the usual run, but instead of boxing drills we did up-hill sprints in the parking lot and then moved inside for the circuit of split sets. It wasn't enjoyable. I struggled just to get through it. The split sets meant that each station of the circuit was two exercises in one. Example: when  we were hanging in the stirrups and just finished doing knee raises, we immediately started doing toe to bar leg lifts. When we were doing seated curls and finished them, we immediately started doing dumbell shoulder press ...

As you can see, it's been two weeks since my last post. Bad, bad, bad. Work at the paper has been non-stop and leaving me less than enthusiastic to spend any more time in front of a computer than is  absolutely necessary. Sorry for dereliction of duty. However, my slacking on the blog did not carry over to slacking on training. I've been hitting the gym five days a week for combat fitness, FIGHT, boxing, kickboxing, knife fighting and I even got in to the gym for some weight lifting on Sunday.

In no order of importance, here's what's been happening:

Last week's combat fitness (5/14 and 5/16) devastated my legs. Thanks, Matt. On those two nights Mr. Stuart had Matt create some of the stations on the circuit. Matt takes great delight in this because he's in phenomenal shape and can smoke just about everyone in the class. In one night we ended up doing squat jumps, burpee frog jumps up the ramp, Bulgarian splits and Iron Mikes. This was followed up by more lower body destruction in Wednesday's combat fitness class with suicide sprints and midget jumping Jacks (you do jumping Jacks while in squat position with your thighs parallel to the ground). I walked around for a few days with a hitch in my giddy up.

*****

After several people told me I looked too skinny I have started to hit the weights. During the 17 months I have been doing combat fitness I haven't done any lifting. I'm trying to lift three days a week. I'm limiting the weights to mainly work my chest by doing bench press, dumbbell flies and dumbbell press. I'm doing this after boxing and kickboxing class and on Sundays if I can manage it.

*****

It was no great revelation. It was no ephiny precedded by the parting of clouds and rays of sun falling upon me. My understanding came by simply watching some guy in kickboxing class. This understanding was all about movement, specifically head movement and moving offline while throwing punches. This dude, I think his name was Adam, was doing it spot on. Every alternating punch had his head swinging side to side. If he threw a left jab, his head was far to the right. If he threw a straight right, his head was far to the left. When he was throwing jab - straight combinations, he was blur. He would jab (head to the right), sit, and then pop up and throw a straight (head to the left). It was like he was always offline. He was never static. Had I been trying to hit him instead of just offering my hands as targets while I coached, I would have been hitting nothing but air.  I have to thank this guy for showing me what being offline  really looks like. I will try to mimic him from here on out.

Last week, Mr. Stuart doled out one of his best pearls of wisdom to date. I paraphrase: Someone once told Abraham Lincoln he had an hour to chop down a tree and they asked him how he would go about accomplishing the task. Lincoln responded, I'd spend the first 45 minutes sharpening my ax. Brilliant stuff. Preparation is key.

This isn't words of inspiration, rather it's a question Mr. Stuart poses to us every once in a while. And it's a question, that for me, depending on my mindset at the time, could be answered in a sentence or in an epic novel. So I'll sign of this blog post with this simple question: Why do you train?

Faster than a speeding bullet? Doubt it

So here's the scenario: Somehow you wind up in the very delicate situation of having a person standing in front of you holding a pistol just inches from your face and pointed right between your eyes. What do you do? The first thing most of us would do is crap our pants. So, more importantly, what's the second thing you would do? Most people would comply with the gunman's demands: give up money, get in a car ... whatever they say. This is the scenario we worked on in last night's FIGHT class (5/7). FIGHT training conditions us to have the mindset of "I'm taking that gun out of that guy's hand." This doesn't mean that we are taught to be faster than a bullet. That's impossible. But you can become faster than the gunman's trigger finger.

Having a pistol held inches from your
face is not a very comfortable situation to be in. However,
FIGHT training teaches us that it's better for the pistol to be
only inches away, rather than feet away. When it's inches
away it's within range for us to snatch from the gunman. 

The primary danger is this scenario is being in the line of fire of the gun. So, the first thing you do is remove yourself from the line of fire. Two moves accomplish this: your hands thrust upward to grab the pistol and push it higher than your head while at the same time you are "dropping base," or quickly dropping your height. The two moves are done simultaneously.

Usually we train this scenario with dummy pistols, but last night one of the instructors was using his Glock. After going through the process of clearing the weapon (this is a very systematic method we are taught that ensures there is no way a round is chambered) we used the Glock in place of the dummy. This gave us a glimpse of how fast we actually need to be to get out of the line of fire because the gunman was pulling the trigger in response to our moves. This was a great training aid because it added realism to the scenario. Three us were practicing with the Glock and all three of us would have taken a bullet to the head, or at least have been partially scalped by the bullet grazing our skulls.

Using the real pistol and hearing the pull of the trigger taught us all how critical it is for your hands thrusting upwards to be complemented by dropping your height. Actually, dropping your height is probably even more critical to getting out of the line of fire and the best part of that is gravity does all the work.

The only way to more accurately train this scenario would be to use a loaded BB gun. One of the instructors said he has done that. That's pretty realistic training, but even that falls short of what the real thing would be like because with the BB gun there is no bang, no fire coming out of the barrel, no powder coming out of the barrel. I'm not suggesting we throw firecrackers into each other's faces to prepare for those conditions. I'm just saying keep it in mind that if a gun goes off in front of your face, be prepared to be temporarily blinded and deaf.

Getting academic with street attacks

Being the center of attention during a FIGHT class stress drill is not a place I want to be. Talk about being put on the spot ... Being confronted with multiple unknown attack scenarios in rapid fire succession is a pretty tough test to go through. The stress drill forces the person in the center of the circle to recall and execute almost everything they have learned in FIGHT class - while everyone is watching.

Watching Amy go through the stress drill on Monday night (4/30) made me realize that I have a lot of learning to do. I'm making progress on the physical side of learning the various street attacks, but now I need to apply an academic approach to solidfying the knowledge in my brain. It's time to go back to college and create notes and bulleted lists of every move involved in each street scenario. I want to be able to pick up a flash card that says Straight Punch and be able to rattle off the proper response: Step to 11 o'clock, left hand blocks face, right hand punches to body, left hand pins elbow to body and right hand grips shirt and elbow forces head away, three knees, break the ankle.

Calm after the storm

I've done some more sparring, this time with a guy in my weight class, and while it's fun to do, there's also a small amount of fear and nerves and other non-fun aspects involved.  Taking shots to the face is never fun. Seeing how much of your boxing training you completely forget when you step into the ring is never fun and pushing yourself to the limitations of your physical conditioning is quite taxing on the body. For me, the real enjoyment of sparring comes the next day, when it's all over and I've I had a night to sleep on it. My sparring is always done at night and as soon as it's over my mind tends to be confused, quantifying what I did right, what I did wrong, and so on. But when I wake up the next morning, I am the living embodiment of zen. I'm subdued, calm, peaceful, impervious to stress. Tasks at work I usually dread become simple. Everything is easier when someone isn't trying to punch you in  the face.

Combat fitness students are fit. Others, not so much.

Target selection was something we worked on in last night's boxing class (April 24). Our partner/coach would present targets with their hands in a random order and we had to react. This is good training because too often we are throwing punches at static targets, and while this helps build good punching form, it's not realistic and can even become detrimental to learning proper boxing technique.

We also worked on our firing line and set line. Firing line is the distance from your opponent where you are just out of your range to land punches. Set line is the few inches forward of your firing line where you can now reach your opponent with your strikes. These lines are different for everyone because it depends on size, reach, punching style, etc.

Going to combat fitness classes
is really paying off now. Sparring
is showing me how crucial
 conditioning is. Even the exercises
we do between drills in boxing
class clearly shows the divide
between who goes to combat
fitness and who doesn't. 

It was a good class for me. It  built confidence in my skills and fitness. I'm really starting to see an improvement in my stamina. We did a two-minute punching drill and I feel like I was pretty strong throughout it and when we had to do exercises  between drills, I felt good doing them. These exercises between drills is when it becomes very obvious as to who participates in combat fitness and who does not. Example: we had to hold the high plank position for one minute while holding one arm straight out in front of our heads, then we would switch to the other arm. This exercise is all core. All core. You're not supposed to shift your hips or arch your back when you elevate the arm. Combat fitness classes focus a lot on the core. People from combat fitness didn't have a problem holding the plank straight. Others, not so much.

When class was over it was time to get in the ring and do a few rounds of sparring. More on that in another post.