Okay, not exactly.
Tonight we had a much smaller Wing Chun class than normal. Rob was sick and couldn't make it and only me and four others showed, so Ray taught. He and I did footwork/sparring as usual and this time I got to apply the blocks and punches I'd been learning, integrating them with fast foot movement. Several of my punches-- whether meant to or not-- hit home, one of which gave him a small but noticeable mark on his forehead. Ray remarked I had made "massive improvement" by keeping my arms in proper position (elbows low) and moving my feet properly. I'm not exactly a violent person, but sparring is fan.
Meanwhile, my forearms hurt like hell. Ah, well.
Showing posts with label wing chun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wing chun. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Wax On, Wax Off
Tonight at Wing Chun, Rob (the instructor) complemented my punching numerous times during drills.
Then, when Ray was going over one-one footwork training drills with Ray and when I was out of breath and couldn't keep up, he popped me one in the mouth.
Then, when Ray was going over one-one footwork training drills with Ray and when I was out of breath and couldn't keep up, he popped me one in the mouth.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Societies Follow-Up
Last Thursday, as mentioned, was a Deviant Society social at the Red Pub on campus, so I headed over there hoping to meet folks into similar musical digs. Immediately, someone takes note of my Celtic Frost hoodie and welcomes me over. I chatted with a few people over the course of the night. I'd say I was half-comfortable/half-not...some awkward personalities here and there, but really my fundamental discomfort is this: I don't feel the need to distance myself from others with even the loosest of labels. I don't wish to be labeled "deviant" just because I enjoy some heavier music; similarly, once I thought it through, I didn't want to be called "straightedge" when I didn't do drugs or drink in high school. I also do not consider myself a "dark" person in any sense despite some of the darker influences inherent in some of my musical interests. So yeah, there's that. Let's see how many further Deviant events I attend. Groucho Marx (and eventually, Woody Allen) once said "I'd never want to be part of club that wanted me as a member." Maybe that quote is applicable here.
Tonight was my first Wing Chun lesson. There were about 15 people total, including Rob (the main instructor), Ray (the society head and student instructor) and Dan (the other student instructor-- I think that was his name). We train from 7-9 every Monday. Today we learned the basic stance (which in and of itself is an exercise in muscle endurance-- makes your legs burn), the first part of the first form (a series of basic motions chained together like a kata would be in karate, somewhat), three different basic countering (bong sao, tan sao and fook sao), basic punching and kicking, and a series of counters for a wrist grab. There were also plenty of fitness exercises integrated-- we did ten sets of alternating five punches and five push-ups (they call them "press-ups" here), a painfully long plank, and sit-ups where we did ten punches every time we went up.
Ultimately, I'm beat and this will make for great learning and great exercise! I just need to get all squared away with the gym via an induction session so I can go at least two other times a week and, between that and Wing Chun, keep myself fit this semester. As I was leaving, Dan commended me on doing a great job. I thanked him for his patience...I hard time with a few elements of a particular exercise. Still, fantastic to be commended on my first martial arts class in nearly a decade!
I am so very excited to be returning to martial arts in any form (no pun intended). Some of the best days of my youth were spent sweating away in Sifu Rick Demile's martial arts academy-- and my learning there began at his garage on Madison Avenue, with no mats for the first few months, punching water-filled boat buoys. Years later, between weak cardio endurance from a pubescent growth spurt and looming Bar Mitzvah studies, I quit at the age of twelve. I always regretted it-- especially as childhood friends later ascended to black belt and assistant instructor positions-- and as a result, I've yearned to go back for the past few years, now and again. Buying a lot of old kung-fu films this summer only bolstered my desire. Now that desire is fulfilled. Awesome.
Tonight was my first Wing Chun lesson. There were about 15 people total, including Rob (the main instructor), Ray (the society head and student instructor) and Dan (the other student instructor-- I think that was his name). We train from 7-9 every Monday. Today we learned the basic stance (which in and of itself is an exercise in muscle endurance-- makes your legs burn), the first part of the first form (a series of basic motions chained together like a kata would be in karate, somewhat), three different basic countering (bong sao, tan sao and fook sao), basic punching and kicking, and a series of counters for a wrist grab. There were also plenty of fitness exercises integrated-- we did ten sets of alternating five punches and five push-ups (they call them "press-ups" here), a painfully long plank, and sit-ups where we did ten punches every time we went up.
Ultimately, I'm beat and this will make for great learning and great exercise! I just need to get all squared away with the gym via an induction session so I can go at least two other times a week and, between that and Wing Chun, keep myself fit this semester. As I was leaving, Dan commended me on doing a great job. I thanked him for his patience...I hard time with a few elements of a particular exercise. Still, fantastic to be commended on my first martial arts class in nearly a decade!
I am so very excited to be returning to martial arts in any form (no pun intended). Some of the best days of my youth were spent sweating away in Sifu Rick Demile's martial arts academy-- and my learning there began at his garage on Madison Avenue, with no mats for the first few months, punching water-filled boat buoys. Years later, between weak cardio endurance from a pubescent growth spurt and looming Bar Mitzvah studies, I quit at the age of twelve. I always regretted it-- especially as childhood friends later ascended to black belt and assistant instructor positions-- and as a result, I've yearned to go back for the past few years, now and again. Buying a lot of old kung-fu films this summer only bolstered my desire. Now that desire is fulfilled. Awesome.
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