Changing views

 There is this thing of viewing, i.e. quantifying, one's training from one of two main vantage points - in term of hours spent, or years invested. It probably obvious that those two outlooks are nor really mutually exclusive, but rather complementary. Especially since both require certain level of commitment from the practitioner... Quite recently, the good folks from the FMA Discussion community had a very nice debate on the topic of hours vs. years, and it yielded an excellent episode of their podcast. 

All three participants in the talk were able to really nicely present their points of view and arguments relating to the subject, with a lot of excellent insights. I especially liked how they underlined that when things take their natural course, the hours will eventually turn into years. It really resonated with me, because it immediately reminded of how my path with Alex Kostic unfolded. Namely, when he first started teaching Systema as a guest instructor in the club/group where I was a member, it was only natural that my tendency was to squeeze in as many hours as possible with Alex whenever he was around (he was still based in Canada back then). Those hours contributed to our building a great relationship and ultimately into years spent training and researching together. 

Be as it may, at one point during the above program, the host asked the question that I had sent, whether if we take the look at the training time through the lens of hours, does it matter how far apart those hours are? While the answers were good, I may not have formulated the question adequately. Although, Mr. Steve Grody had already brought up what seems to me to be the central point - consistency.

So, here is my attempt to be a bit more specific. Let's say a person has 50 hours per year available for training. Would it be more effective then to train for one hour every week, or attend five seminars of 10 hours each throughout that year (thus, 10-12 weeks between training sessions)? Essentially, if there is absolutely no other training done outside those hours, it only makes sense that weekly hour-long sessions would be preferable, primarily for the sake of regular feedback regarding one's performance. Regardless of what kind of performance we're talking about here - forms, techniques, drills, sparring - consistent shorter sessions will take the cake over occasional longer ones.

 On the other hand, if we talk about 50 hours of INSTRUCTION, not all training, then the seminars with regular practice sessions between them may be the right way to go, particularly of otherwise we have limited access to the qualified instructors. After all, this how many arts and systems were able to spread around the world. Still, if regular instruction is available, weekly learning slots with reinforcing practice sessions on other days of the week would win, for the reasons mentioned above. 

It bear saying, nonetheless, that certain situations will naturally gravitate to one of the two vantage points. Say, a fight camp 6-8 weeks prior to a competition clearly goes towards the emphasis on hours spent over the period. Alternatively, in some systems require age limits for certain ranks, so the hours on those years may not be decisive. 

The bottom line is that it is how learning works - effort over time. The intensity and regularity are the fundamental factors here, and if those an be balanced, it is really an optimal situation. And again, if the commitment and discipline are there - the hours will definitely turn into years. 

Hard AND Smart

 This one goes hand in hand with the previous post. That said, you do not need to read the last month's installment, but if you do, it will give you a bigger picture of the subject.

A typical student of a typical martial art is typically driven (early on at least) by achieving the next belt/degree, which is why after the 3-6 month mark, probably the biggest drop off point in the number of students is a year or so after they get their black belt. That is characteristic of extrinsically motivated people, i.e. a lot of them in today's consumer societies. Also a common feature of such practitioners is incessant hunt for new techniques and tricks. It is baffling, really, that to this day there are so many people believing the "secret" to greatness of success lies in the material itself, rather than in the person using it. After all, how do we explain the fact that some exponents can successfully pull off techniques others can't make work? As master Rey Galang says during his classes (albeit in the way I paraphrased it, to make it more memorable):

So, yeah, it boils down to elbow grease and dedicated work on the stuff one's instructors are teaching. And then, ask yourself, how much time during the day (if aiming at real competence, you can't allow yourself to think in terms of 2-3 times per week) you can invest in training? Well, how much material do you think one can cover efficiently and meaningfully? Hmmm...does it make sense to collect dozens upon dozens of techniques in that case? 

That brings us to the need and desire for cross training. I belong to the camp that argues for the necessity of such approach, if one is motivated by combative effectiveness in their martial training. The above considerations could be used here as a filter to help you decide which systems/instructors to work with in order to make your skill set compact and functional. Namely, their methods should be complementary, both in terms of fighting ability and training economy. When you can work on things that fit well together, it is easier to approach them in a single act, thus making every minute of practice count. Otherwise, you might be struggling in vain.

Be honest with yourself and it will be easier to be true to your quest. 

Rocky road to ranking

 Over the past few months I have attended a couple of ranking exams in martial arts, performed online. Back in the 1990's, when I first became aware of various long-distance learning/training programs, done via VHS, I was wondering how much sense did it make. On the one hand, it seemed to me that the logistics were a serious challenge, but on the other - there were plenty of embarrassing tests conducted and ranks awarded in the direct, face to face situations. 

Over time, I came to the conclusion that it boils down to the seriousness of the system/organization and integrity of the instructors who do the testing. I remember deliberately postponing my black belt test in Taekwondo, so that I could take it under a Korean instructor known for strict standards. After spending almost an hour doing the required techniques, forms, breaking and sparring, the whole experience had much more meaning, especially having in mind that he actually failed three candidates out of dozen or so that day. 

Later, when I got involved with different, less formal systems, the entire notion of belts and ranks seemed redundant and needless. But is it so?

Means to an end, or goal itself?

Obviously, when a person is into training for the passion and for the joy of the activity itself, the rank is something of a side-effect, if considered at all. I liked the practice of some instructors I trained under, who would occasionally award ranks, completely announced, on unsuspecting students, based on their regular effort, performance and achievement, without extrinsic motivation. 

However, it took some time for me to understand that there are people who start in martial arts with what I would consider "laughable" aims of chasing belts, but actually grow into training and develop more of intrinsic goals, be it the level of performance, technical performance, discipline and character building, competitive success etc. 

Having children in training is particularly susceptible to this kind of approach, in the terms of valid strategy, although it is certainly not the only one proven to be available. Still, training kids also tends to be the environment where the rank can be rendered meaningless. I mean, with all due respect, what exactly is the rationale behind 6-year-old black belts?

???

Naturally, there will always be schools and instructors reputed as diploma mills, but let's not get bogged in that discussion. Instead, here are some reasons I see as relevant for conducting actual testing for rank. 

First, there are some fighting arts (iai-do, kenjutsu, many kung fu styles...) that simply do not include any kind of external pressure on the practitioners, aside from the possible tough instructor, and preparing for the test could provide that extra edge in their training. 

Next, sometimes the school or training group is affiliated with an instructor that is only able to visit periodically, and testing (usually attached to a seminar) is the only way to gain pertinent insight into someone's level, hence the rank actually serving as feedback for them to evaluate their effort thus far.

Finally, in case of rank tests that are open for public, it can be a good opportunity for the school to show and/or confirm its standards and legitimacy their trainees' work in the world where there is too much marketing and advertising, with scarcity of tangible evidence of quality. Typically, BJJ schools are a good example of how ranking and belts can be meaningful and worthy of respect. 

In the end, let's go back to the beginning. The online tests that I attended were well done - the instructors were demanding and helpful at the same time, while the candidates had taken it seriously and were well prepared to go through almost two-hour event, in order to demonstrate being worthy of the rank. Again, it boils down to the integrity of the entity presenting the ranks, and when that criterion is up to level, the quality of its representatives is almost guaranteed.