One does not simply WALK into Brighton

Day 16 of London to Brighton Training:  In which I decide to see if I really am a Jedi.

 

 

 This post and my body have something in common: Both could be described as ‘disjointed’, the former caused by the latter as I am finding it difficult to sit for more than a few minutes.

The pain in my leg caused by the Judo session at the weekend has, fortunately, eased considerably, which is obviously a great relief.  It’s still stiff and painful, but not to the extent that it would cause any issues should I have to, for example, run for a coffee (hey, we all have our own motivations. Buses don’t do it for me – coffee does).  However, yesterday I noticed some stiffness and pain in my lower back, which I put down the use of the walking poles on Sunday, for both support of my leg and because I had bought them and was not going to admit to them being an impulse buy.  A little stretching, some light exercise and application of some deep heat and I’d be right as rain. 

Incidentally, what is right about rain?  Everyone I know, including farmers, does nothing but moan when it rains.

I digress.

So this morning,  I woke up and went to roll over to snooze the alarm, only to find my back locked solidly and painfully into a single lump. I couldn’t move without intense pain on the left side of my lower back.  Now, this is of particular concern because I may have forgotten to mention that, when I was seventeen, I fractured my spine in this exact spot.  This is one of the reasons I’ve always found running difficult – the impact of running always seems to exacerbate things in a way that other things – including weirdly Judo – do not.  It seems that the use of the walking poles has caused a similar discomfort,  so perhaps there is more to their use than I thought.  I am going to try and contact some other Nordic Walking instructors, as it could be that there is more to this technique than I thought.  Watch this space…..

However, a combination of the pain in my leg, plus the stiffness in my back and the realisation that I’m not 25 anymore, convinced me that going to Judo was not a good idea, at least until such time as I’m regained a modicum of core strength and flexibility.  I am still determined to get back to it, as I truly love the sport, but there is no doubt that it’s not a good idea at present, not least because I cannot risk an injury that prevents me from completing the challenge itself.  However, my brief exposure to all the Dojos I have visited in my research convinced me that I still want to get back into the Martial Arts, both as a means of getting fitter in a way I enjoy so much more than pointless repetitions in the gym and as a way of relieving the inevitable stresses of life, which left me with a problem – what could I do that would allow me to indulge my interest, get fit and yet not be limited by my current fitness, advanced age and unwillingness to accept injury?

Over the years, I have tried many arts, including Jiu-jitsu, Karate, Aikido and even once tried Tai Chi (but got REALLY bored), but something that has always held a degree of fascination for me was Iaido, or the art of drawing the Japanese Sword.  Perhaps this was something to do with being brought up on a diet of swashbuckling movies and TV series, including such Japanese classics as ‘The Water Margin’, but I’ve always had a bit of a fascination for sword-fighting, which was only consolidated by Star Wars.  Who of my generation does not remember that moment when Obi Wan reveals the Lightsabre to Luke, or the final fight scene?  Even now, I am willing to bet that if you give a man (or many women) a fluorescent light tube, he will be faced with the almost impossible task of resisting the urge to take it in both hands, sweeping it from side to side whilst making whooshing and buzzing noises.

Or is that just me?

So I was intrigued to find an Iaido club near me, and had popped along to have a quick look a couple of weeks earlier.  Iaido is often confused with Kendo, which is effectively Japanese fencing, and is a sport extracted from the Art of the Sword, Kenjutsu in much the same way that Judo was extracted from the more martial Jiu-Jitsu.  In Kendo, you wear armour and fight with swords made of bamboo splits.  The aim of the fights, which are brutally fast and aggressive, is to score with strikes against specific areas on the body.  Iaido by comparison uses real Japanese swords (or wooden ones for beginners) and is made up of a number of forms, in which you draw your sword, strike against one or more imaginary opponents and then sheathe the sword, all in a strictly choreographed series of movements and in total concentration. 

At first, the movements seem slow and unrealistic and, to the casual observer, very simple and straightforward.  How hard can it be?  In fact however, as with so many arts, the aim is that by practicing slowly, the movements become instinctive and can be repeated at speed without thought.  When you see the final outcome, you realise that the aim of Iaido is much like the gunfighters of the Wild West.  The aim is to draw your sword and strike one or more opponents before they can do the same.

So this art offers me the opportunity to be Luke Skywalker AND Wyatt Earp.  Does it get any better?  Perhaps my answers to ‘What do you want to be when you grow up’ weren’t so implausible after all!

 So, on the basis that the slow, controlled movements would probably allow me to stretch my muscles without causing any more harm, I found myself at the Dojo, preparing for my first lesson.

One of the most complex things to work out is how to get dressed.  The full costume involves layers of clothing, knee pads, assorted belts and pieces of string, plus the sword itself in its scabbard. Not having the requisite gear, I donned my judo suit, but by the time I’d wound the belt several times around my waist, realised I would really have been better off in a track suit, as the jacket refused to stay done up and I kept getting the handle of the sword caught in my sleeve.

I have held many swords in my life, but all were made of wood, plastic (or fluorescent tubing) and the feel of a metal sword is very different, particularly one sharp enough to give a Yeti a Turkish shave. When the instructor demonstrated a fast downward strike with the sword, it made a ‘Swish’ sound as the blade cut through the air, which was almost satisfying enough to make up for the lack of  Whooshing and Buzzing.  Fortunately for the safety of me and those around me, this was then immediately taken away and replaced with a wooden sword, on the basis that with that, the worst I could do was give myself a nasty splinter.

Don’t mock – splinters can be nasty.  Ask Dracula.

 Let me make something clear right away. Iaido is not as easy as it looks.  Sure, each of the individual strikes may be made up of relatively few movements, but actually remembering them all, the order in which they occur, which foot should be where combines to make it an exercise in concentration. And whilst you’re concentrating on those, you can’t be concentrating on your imaginary opponent, who will be cutting off your head with his imaginary but very sharp sword.

Which I’m fairly sure goes Whoosh and Buzz.

Each element ends with sheathing the sword.  Easy huh?  Just stick it in the tube.  Well no.  Because this is done without looking down, as your eyes remain fixed on the several pieces of imaginary opponent.  Imagine trying to put the charger into your phone without looking.  Now imagine that the charger was a razor blade, and you may begin to see the problem.  The idea is that you bring the hilt and scabbard together, then slide the left hand back, the blade sliding over your hand and then in and, when performed by the experienced, looks easy.  It isn’t.  The opportunities for ending a session with considerably fewer digits than you started with, or of ending up like a kimono-clad kebab are endless.

At the end of the evening, I felt oddly relaxed.  I didn’t have the feeling that I had done a significant workout, although my hamstring was not happy about the fact that some of the techniques I’d been asked to learn involved attacking from a kneeling position, but there is obviously something about creating julienne of opponent that relieves stress. 

Can I see this forming a regular part of my regime?  I honestly don’t know. It won’t really help achieve fitness, but does fulfil my desire to learn new skills and will I think help with flexibility.  However having just looked at the price of swords online, maybe not.  For that price, I want that goes Whoosh and Buzz.

And I want my instructor to be 3 feet tall and green.

(If you’ve enjoyed this post, you can read all the related ones on my blog at http://onedoesnotsimplywalkintobrighton.blogspot.co.uk/ and if you’re feeling generous, you can sponsor me at http://www.justgiving.com/Richard-Stanton2 - doesn’t matter how much, every penny is really gratefully received.  Thank you.)