Thursday, April 14, 2016

Effective Testing Preparation - Part 1

Spring in Pennsylvania, like many places brings a big change to the weather.  For my school, spring is also one of the times we have local dan testing and thus it brings big changes to our training patterns.  My classes in late February slowly begin to become more "curriculum" heavy as spring rolls in, and by mid April, we're into full on testing focus.  Testing is heavily on my mind right now so I thought I'd share my take on testing.  If you are reading this from outside of my organization your mileage my vary as our tests may not align in structure or challenge.  I plan on writing a part two to this post, where I will hopefully compile some of my favorite martial artists's takes on test prep.  So far though, only one person has gotten back to me, so I may remove the "part 1" later. 

I'd like to start by speaking generally about testing prep, and then working into more specific concepts. 

One of the foundations to a strong test is good class attendance, which is more than just showing up.  Anyone can show up to a class, go through the movements, break a sweat and go home.  This sort of zombie training is a student's constant enemy when the time between test cycles goes from months to years to many years.  The struggle is really real here, and it is up to you, to battle your internal auto pilot and stay tuned in and engaged.  I've written about auto pilot before with regard to forms practice, but auto pilot is something to fight against throughout all of your training.  Ask questions, experiment, and apply what you've learned in the past (when appropriate), to other aspects of your training.  Although perhaps a topic of a future post, the students who never question, never apply, and never really engage the art are often times the ones with poor testings and aren't long for quitting entirely.  Don't be that guy.  

Another generalization about testing is in regard to physical fitness.  Our dan tests are not very physically demanding, but that being said, you'll get only a very short recovery time in between forms.  This is no secret and no surprise, so train accordingly.  The final three dan tests (3rd to 4th through 5th to 6th) have very demanding form sets.  3rd to 4th sees you perform the 2nd longest form, 4th to 5th sees you perform the hardest 3 forms in the entire Chang-hon form set and 5th to 6th features 4 forms instead of 3 with the longest form thrown in for insult to injury.  Knowing that you get one chance to do all three forms that day, you'll want to put your best foot forward for each.  Being prepared for the physical demands of this is paramount to having a test you can be proud of.  An easy strategy to help you with this is to do each form in sets of 3, with limited space between reps. 

One final piece of general advice I have for you is to attend testings that are not your own.  The more familiar you are with the process, the less stressful being on the floor will be.  If possible, volunteer to be someone's partner and take part in tests that you are not being graded on.  When you have years between testings, actually getting on the testing floor when not testing can become a valuable mental tool for when your turn to test is up.  It will give you something to think about as you prepare and will numb some of the anxiety of being "on the spot" that testing can invoke.    

Forms Prep

The first of the three segments of the test is for most people the most daunting.  At higher dan levels it really shouldn't be as you've been ultimately focusing on the same three to four forms for years but there's something about the hush of the crowd that derails many a usually good practitioner.  To prepare for testing, I do three types of forms training leading into my test.

First, I practice movement retention and endurance.  Here I am only interested in going through the movements hard and strong almost as if I were testing. I block out thoughts of "am I doing this right" because by now, I should know this form, my instructor should have seen me perform it many times and any and all corrections should be complete if not well on their way to being complete.  This is important, because I feel like it is this training method that "locks" the form in the most.  Care must be taken that you don't do too much of this training until you are sure your form is right where you and your instructor wants it.

The second version of forms prep I use is slow forms.  Here, I purposely slow my movements down to make sure my mechanics are working right.  Going slower allows me to focus on attribute training in my forms.  I can work timing, power, intensity, stance definition, body control or any other attribute I might need to work on.  Sometimes I'll simply work on one sequence of a form when I really want to focus in and improve that area.  Unless I'm specifically working on power generation, I won't worry about doing my forms "hard" here.  Often times I am searching for the "mental switches and levers" that must be pulled to execute at the highest level, so just focusing on breaking the auto pilot and engaging the controls is practiced here.  I will usually perform these two methods in equal parts. 

The final version of forms prep I use is dry-running.  As we never know the order of the form set we'll be performing, I'll do my three (or four) forms, one time, at performance level in a random order.  I'll run through the forms one right after another just like I will on testing day.  While doing this, I'll visualize myself at the test.  I've been to many tests, so I can mentally paint a very accurate picture of what the room will look and sound like.  I won't do this exercise more than two times a session, just because at the test, I only get one shot.  I want this training to feel as close to the testing experience as possible.  If I have a bad showing, I smile, and be happy that today wasn't my test.  If I have a good showing, I try to replicate that the next time I do this exercise.  I like this practice at the start and finish of a hard forms practice. 

As far as a schedule goes, this is going to vary with your comfort level with forms in general.  We all have a level of comfort when it comes to ample practice time.  Some like to start training months in advance, for others, weeks are fine.  Speaking anecdotally, the fastest I ever got ready for a dan test was 3 days.  For the record, I was at the TKD school 6 days a week and would often train 2-3 hours per day, so I was very much so ready to go whenever.  Conversely I trained for months to prepare for my 4th dan test because I knew I'd be testing in front of our grand master that day.  I was at two different places in life for those two tests, and on both tests, I felt very very strong.  For 4th I was no longer in a place in life where I could devote uncountable hours to training.  To balance this, I started several months earlier.  These different ways to look at forms though will help organize the chaos that can sometimes fill your mind when it comes to test prep.

Prearranged

The next section of testing is our prearranged section.  I think if people had to pick their favorite part of their tests, most people would pick this section.  There are often times at least 10-12 people up at once, and the feeling that everyone is watching you is usually a bit less for this part.  The reality is, this is correct.  While it is easy to track and watch 5-10 people all doing the same form, it's much harder to watch 5-6 groups of two do prearranged, so it is true that there are less eyes on you during this section, and if performance anxiety is your enemy, this is your time to shine.

Personally, I find this section to be the hardest to prepare for, for a couple of reasons.  First, to practice this effectively, you'll need a partner.  Second, most of the time you won't know every aspect of prearranged that is going to be asked of you.  While some of the mainstays are a given, you'll never know when a Master might call out for something off the cuff.  Being mentally prepared has served me well, and I'd invite you to again mentally prepare to the fullest for your prearranged section.  For my 4th dan test, on the day of testing the candidates going for 4th were told we'd be doing club defense.  I had no idea this was coming, was absolutely dreadful at weapons defense at the time and felt panic creeping up my spine.  I did what I would hope any good black belt would do, I accepted it, and then I improvised, adapted and overcame the situation.  My club defense was probably the weakest portion of that test, but I didn't let that affect any other portion of my test, so it was a victory for me nonetheless.

Like all testing, you cannot let the unexpected, and or a mistake foil your efforts.  I've seen it so many times; someone makes a mistake in an early portion of their test and that mistake takes root in their psyche like a weed and ruins the rest of their test.  The candidate loses confidence, makes more mistakes, and a cycle forms.  Mentally building a wall around those mistakes (seriously, I imagine the mistake kind of like a spore, that I put a brick wall around) will help you.

The best advice for actual prearranged is to practice it all, whenever you can - and the stuff that is harder to practice (things like 3 on 1 sparring) make sure you understand the concept and visualize yourself succeeding in doing what you want to do in the match.  If you memorize your prearranged responses, be ready--mix them up so that you can fire them off with instinct level speed and effort.  If you are an improvisor, relax, and do what you do.  I find this section to be pretty cut and dry, the people that look good are often times the people who asked a classmate to partner up before or after classes and worked extra time on their prearranged.  In this case, it really is that simple.

Breaking

The final portion of our tests is the breaking portion.  Although this section is now undergoing a radical change in our org, all dan candidates are still required to break somewhere.  Although only 4th and above are now breaking at the public test, all ranks below that still have to pass a breaking portion.  As I have a love hate relationship with breaking for testing (see my blog post and article on breaking featured in Totally Tae Kwon Do magazine), my views on breaking are very pragmatic.  Breaking is one of the least ambiguous sections of testing.  There's always a breaking requirement, a set number of stations that needs to be broken, and the actual breaking of the boards.  Rarely do you get a list of variables that are so concrete and easily measurable.  Unlike what makes a good form execution a good form execution - no one can argue with a non broken board. 

If your requirement is for example, a two station break, with one station consisting of a spinning back kick, why would you go out and try to do a six station break?  You're only graded on your requirements, and while it is natural and desirable to spice things up it is best to do so within the confines of the parameters of the requirement.  I look at it like this, if I am told to do a 3 station break, I'm doing a 3 station break.  My rationale is that if I break the first three stations, and then miss the 4th, I get a failing grade for not breaking all stations - even though I accomplished the requirement.  There is no extra credit, you live by the break you choose and die by the break you choose, so choose wisely.  Don't be afraid to stretch inside the confines of the break, but at the same time, make sure you don't over stretch into something that is a gamble.  You only get one test (unless you fail I guess) so you need to be happy with your showing.  Speaking personally, I remember every board that didn't break - and have to watch videos of the ones that did to remember them. 

Your dan test is not the place to try something new, or experimental--remember that the purpose is to show that the techniques you pick have the power to do bodily harm if you need them to.  The purpose of your break at testing is not to wow the crowd, or impress the board.  Though it never hurts to impress the board, I'm always impressed by a cleanly delivered break and the flow from station to station.  I don't need to see someone jump over a table blindfolded at a test.  At the end of the day, it is the how of the break, not the what, that wins the day.  Nothing bothers me more, than to see someone trying to do something overly complicated, or overly daring and missing stations.  I want to see if your technique execution could cause pain, I have very little care about your ability to jump over a motorcycle.  

Specifically, once your simple but effective and technique level appropriate break is decided, practice it.  Air shields are a good start to see if you can get real power on each technique.  After that, switch to smaller targets.  The pieces of wood we use are cut almost like a sheet of paper, so copier paper makes for a great stand in for real wood.  Speaking of real wood, if you have the means, a few shots at the actual break is a great idea.  I like to run through my break with real wood a week or two before I test.  If it breaks easy, I know I have nothing to worry about.

Another skill in breaking is picking good holders, positioning them properly and making sure they are holding to support the break.  Look for bent elbows, bad stances and don't be afraid to tell your holders to look away if you fear they are going to flinch.  This is your test, you're going to be the one who fails this portion - regardless of a bad hold.  This is unfortunate, as a bad hold can make even the best technique fail to break.    

This is largely how I approach testing preparation.  As our dan tests are in my opinion much more of a mental challenge than a physical one, you'll see the heavy emphasis on mental preparation and visualization.  My views towards breaking may not be the official views of the organization, but approaching breaking the way I have has never garnered me criticism.  Whenever I have broken cleanly I have always been complimented for my breaks.  It should be noted I'm not saying everyone should come out and break with straight punch, front kick and side kick, but again, blindfolded table jumps with motorcycles are best left for the demo and tournament circuits.  

If there is a final thought that I have on testing it is this.  Your instructor wouldn't put you out on the floor if he or she didn't believe you were capable of passing the test.  Have faith in that!  You are given a valuable piece of motivation fuel just by being invited, don't squander that with self doubt and pointless thoughts about "but am I really ready".  You are ultimately doing the mental equivalent of openly questioning your instructor, something I doubt you'd do to his face.  Testing is ultimately the beast you make it to be.  In the Hagakure there is a saying: "Matters of great concern should be treated lightly...Matters of small concern should be treated seriously." taking this slightly out of context and applying it here is apt.  I look at it like this: worry about the small things you do in testing, because the big things, are probably not big deals at all...in fact, the big problems you think you have probably don't exist at all.  

Friday, April 1, 2016

April's Fool - Memories of My First Trip to CTF Summer Camp

Instead of a mock post like last year - I'm going to tell you all a story of my first trip to CTF summer camp.  It was a a time...fun and funny.  It may not translate to the written word, and I've never tried my hand at comedy.  I'm feeling particularly nostalgic because of an article I just wrote for Totally Tae Kwon Do Magazine is coming out tomorrow, so in the spirit of April Fool's day - please humor me.

(as an aside, I highly recommend listening to Stevie Ray Vaughan's "little wing" while reading this - I listened to it on loop while I wrote it, in a marathon session from 11:30 to 1am - I don't know...call it flavoring). 

It had to be 99, but it may have been 2000.  You have to understand that the years start to blend together, I know I was a black belt, and I had been one for a bit so it definitely wasn't 98.  I wanted to go to camp, but things at home were not as stable as they had once been.  I would have been 19, out of high school, working minimum wage jobs to support my hockey and TKD addictions.  I had the feeling back then that I was wearing out my welcome at home, but things were chaotic there for other reasons not important to this story.  Regardless, money was tight, and asking mom for more wasn't my favorite thing to do. 

Jim Farrington, the first instructor I ever had, and someone I looked up to immensely at the time was constantly asking me if I was going to camp after class.  He used to say that it was martial arts life changing.  After sadly declining the year before because my finances couldn't support it, Jim offered to pay my way.  Feeling it was bad form to turn him down, I graciously accepted, thanked him probably enough to make him nauseous and basically stopped sleeping at night out of sheer excitement until the day finally came to make the 4 hour drive out to Lock Haven to go to camp.

I'll never forget that night, it was a typical Pennsylvania summer night; hot and humid.  I opened the hatch of my Ford EXP (fellow readers, I had THE absolute worst cars as a late teen / early 20 year old).  I put my TKD bag, my clothes bag, and EVERY FREAKING MARTIAL ARTS WEAPON I OWNED, into my car.  If I recall correctly, it was 2 bokkens, 1 katana, 3 sets of nunchucks, and at least two bos a 3 sectional staff (WTF, why did I have a 3 sectional staff?) and a few fake knives.  I had never been to camp; I wanted to be prepared (this will be funny later).  Realize that all I heard about camp is that it was awesome - specifics were not required, if my idols said camp was awesome, I didn't need specifics.

I set out for my longest solo drive in my life at that time.  4 hours on the PA turnpike and I80.  I left in the early evening, didn't hit any traffic and fell in love with the long drive.  The sky was beautiful, the music was heavy, loud and the night air cool coming in my car's windows.  I was young, on the open road and about to set out for adventure.

I arrived in Lock Haven, parked my car, and grabbed just my bags.  I never took a single weapon out of my car, but at least I was ready for the spontaneous weapons class or to you know, supply a small rebellion with arms if necessary.

I eventually got my room assignment - I think I was solo that year because my roommate bailed last minute.  It was at this time that I learned my first important lesson about dorm life.  They don't give you bedding.  So I did what any other tough as nails black belt would do - I rolled out my uniform and slept on it.  I was too embarrassed to ask anyone if they had extra sheets because in my boyish glee to just be attending, I forgot to ask if there was anything I needed to bring (so much for being prepared, I had enough weapons to fight a small army, but no sheets or pillow to sleep on). 

It was upwards of 340 degrees in my dorm room.  We were on top of some god unholy hill on like the 4th floor of a building with no air conditioning.  I was baking for the first part of my night, and spent the first 3-4 hours staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell I was going to get up in 3 more hours for the first workout.  At some point I fell asleep, and the temperature dropped, because the next thing I knew I was in my uniform, and I had taken all the regular clothes out of my bag and  had them stacked on me like a make shift blanket.

This may sound like pure hell to some of you--sleeping on a ratty college dorm mattress bare, with no blankets, no pillow--but man, it was CTF summer camp!  No matter what, it was going to be awesome!

The first workout was at like 6:30 am, it was "optional" in the sense that you didn't have to wake up and go to it, but Master Lenny Young was going to bang on everyone's door at 5:45 and if you didn't come, he was going to make fun of you in front of a group of people, so it was optional only if you wanted that kind of attention.  Nothing would stop me from getting out there though.

It was a sight.  80 of us, in a dewy field on what would turn out to be a beautiful Saturday in late July.  The sun was just coming over the mountains when the first technique was called out - and the sound of an 80 strong kiap echoed across the field we were in.  Chills my kind readers, absolute chills.  The workout was hard, but satisfying - I was in my glory.

After morning workout we had breakfast.  Always a fast eater, I retreated back to my dorm to take a shower.  After the shower, I came back to my room to find Jim's door open, across the hall and "do you feel like we do" from Peter Frampton blasting out of his portable radio.  Unlike me, Jim came prepared it seemed.

I got dressed, opened my door and just sat on my bed taking it all in.  I didn't go to college out of high school, and when I eventually did go, I didn't live on campus in a dorm, so this was my one and only experience with this sort of lifestyle.  Sitting on my bed, suddenly Farrington bursts into my room....in a full redman suit.  He would proceed to make stereotypical martial arts sounds and do mock techniques.  It was so ridiculous, from someone who was always, always so serious...I don't think I ever laughed as hard as I did at that moment in a TKD setting anyway.  I was a bit hardcore and took it all way too seriously back then, so you have to understand how rare that was to just cut loose.  We were both happy to be there.

The rest of that day I don't really remember.  I know I was whooped, and I was invited to a bar after by the older black belts, even though I don't believe I was old enough to drink yet.  (Again, I forget the year, and subsequent camp trips featured a TON of drinking - almost embarrassingly large amounts of drinking).  All I remember is doing impressions of my favorite black belts.  One black belt in particular who wasn't at camp had the most insane stances, and boy did I do a mean impression of him in the bar that night--everyone was laughing. I think it was the first time I felt like TKD was more than just my thing.  For the first time, people saw me not as some hardcore TKD fanatic, and I thought, maybe that would be ok.

Someone gave me a spare sheet that night, so sleeping was a lot better the second night.  Beer and 8 straight hours of TKD helped a bit too.

All I remember of the Sunday session was getting my ass absolutely beat by Ty Smith in extended outdoor sparring, feeling so sad to be leaving this truly amazing experience and finally understanding Farrington's reason for wanting me to come to camp at least once.  I would go on to go to the next 6 camps in a row, but that was the last camp Jim ever went to.  His time in TKD was coming to a close. 

But every time, and I do mean, every time I hear "Do you feel like we do" - I think of Jim in his redman suit.