My Journey Into Swordcraft

The Gift 

2017 was very troubled in the political realm, but for me, it was a period of a big change as I dived headfirst into the world of sword sports. Now, with a year of training in kendo, iaido, and a dabbling in a few others, I can say with certainty my life has charted a whole new course.

It started Christmas 2016. Trump's election was over a month behind us and everyone was pretty much past the shock. That said, I was miserable for an entirely different reason. I was struck down by food poisoning; the really bad kind that laid me up for 3 days and ended with a trip to the ER. I managed to regain enough strength by Christmas Day, but it was a rough road getting there. The one upside was I ate very little during that period, so I didn't put on any holiday weight. In fact I lost some to dehydration. 

While opening gifts, I recieved a rather unexpected one from my little sister; an umbrella with a katana handle. I was surprised but still excited at the coolness. Up until then, I had expressed very little interest in Japanese swordsmanship. I had offhandedly mentioned 'samurai' in a game of Mad Libs earlier, and played the Onimusha games in high school, but that was it. The umbrella was one of those gifts that I didn't know I really wanted. You might be thinking, "ah ha that's when you decided to take kendo" but no, not quite. That happened about a week later when New Year's rolled around. 

The katana umbrella

I always make New Years resolutions and they're often very personal and specific. Things like reading particular books, finishing projects, etc. I'd say, optimistically, I have about a 30-40% success rate on fulfilling them. Since weight loss was no longer an immediate issue, for January 2017 I resolved simply to "try more things." I felt I'd fallen into a bit of a rut of spending most of my free time on Netflix binges and video games, so I wanted to branch out a bit. As I considered what things to try, my thoughts returned to the katana umbrella. 

First Class: Trial by Fire

I can't remember specifically the first time I saw Kendo. I'm pretty sure it was some martial arts movie I saw on TV as a kid, but I don't remember what it was about. Somehow the name popped into my head from some long unused brain cell and I decided that would be my first new thing.

After I returned to New York, I googled "kendo nyc" and the first place that popped up was Sword Class NYC. (I recently found out that the owner deliberated named the school to sound like a Google search). I saw they taught a wide variety of sword forms, including German Long Sword, Kendo, Iaido, Dagger, and something called Armored Combat League. It was a lot to take in, but I had settled on kendo and booked the first available Beginner's Class of the year.

From the Sword Class NYC website

When I arrived, I was greeted by a few friendly students in uniform. It was then that the full reality of "WTF am I doing?" first hit me. I was alone, a stranger in a strange land. But I had already made the trip, so there was no turning back. I went to the front desk to check-in and met the teacher, whom I somewhat disrespectfully referred to as "owner guy." He told me that the first kendo class of the year wasn't intended for beginners and the listing on the website had been an error. He offered me a choice. I could come back another time, or stay and try to keep up with the intermediates. Either way he wouldn't charge me for the class.

Since I was already there, I decided to give it a shot. How hard could it be? The teacher then laid it out for me.

"This will actually be similar to a traditional kendo class in Japan. The Sensei won't give you the time of day, he'll just expect you to know what to do and follow along, so do your best." 

I was given a wooden katana (Bokken) and class began. I don't remember much about the first few minutes as we went through the bowing, what I would later learn is called Reiho. All I remember was that we gathered in a circle and the Sensei called out "Zenshin Kotai Men no Suburi. Ajime!"  All at once, and in near perfect unison, the students stepped forward and cut dead ahead at shoulder level with their swords, then stepped back and cut again. Each time they yelled "Men!" I was already lost, but I tried to keep up. Step forward, cut, step backward, cut, step forward, cut. After about ten reps and I felt comfortable enough to start shouting "Men" with everyone else, but I felt really silly.

This went on for a while. After a couple dozen strikes, my arms started to feel sore. I fell out of rhythm more than once, either because my feet wouldn't cooperate or I needed a breather. Time seemed to drag as we repeated this exercise and I questioned my life choices. Then, without warning, all the class started speaking Japanese. I later learned they were counting. When they reached 10, they all stopped. We all took a break, but my arms were already killing me.

We repeated two more sets of that exercise over the next twenty minutes. The exact steps differed a little. For one set, we stepped forward, cut, then stepped backward without cutting. The third set was similar but the steps were fast and a little more jumpy. By the third set, I was quite out of my element. My sword was flailing around like an out of control child that doesn't know his limits, and my arms felt like they were going to snap off. Finally, we stopped.

I would later found out the first Kendo class of the year is always reserved for the students to do 1000 Suburi (stepping and cutting drills) to get pumped up for the new year. At this point, I was seriously questioning what I had signed up for. Was this all there was to the classes? Then the Sensei said "Mentsuke!" All in unison, the students grabbed their armor and started suiting up. One of them handed me a bamboo sword (shinai) and I just stood there awkwardly.   For the rest of the class I learned about doing head strikes and "running through". The sensei was very patient with me, but as promised, he gave me as little instruction as possible. After an hour, I was dismissed, so the intermediate students could continue practicing on their own.

On the one hand, I felt accomplished that I had made it through the class. On the other, I wondered if this was worth continuing. I decided it might be worth taking a few more beginner's classes to see how I felt about it. Like everything else, it probably made more sense once I got the hang of it. I pre-paid for a 3 class package intending to use them throughout the month.

The Intensive

A few days later, the sensei emailed me that a Beginner's Intensive Course was going to start at the end of the month. The package included a uniform, swords, and 10 classes covering all the basics. And it wasn't just for kendo either. For a little extra I could take a simultaneous Intensive for Iaido as well. I thought it over. After all, this would be a big commitment up front and a lot of money out the door if I didn't like it. But ultimately, I decided this was the best way to get into it. I held off on using my other classes until after the Intensive started.

The first day of the Intensive was less intimidating than the my actual first day. I recognized a few faces from then, but there were about a half dozen other newbies like myself. I introduced myself to all of them and did my best to remember names. The older students taught us how to put on our uniforms and we began the class. Iaido was up first, so we learned with wooden swords how to draw, sheath, and do a basic overhead cut. The Sensei from my first day, Raab Rashi, explained that this form of Iaido was a modern one called Siljun Dobup and was Korean in origin. I made a mental note to look into the Japanese form at some point (for the purpose of brevity, I will continue to refer to it as Iaido in this post). At the end of the class, we received our own metal swords. The one I chose would end up breaking a few classes later, and the school allowed me to exchange it.

Next up was kendo. The sensei was different. He was a slim stern man named Chistophe Salet who spoke with a French accent. He taught us basic footwork and, again, basic overhead strikes. While his instruction was methodical, he was a bit less patient with us. It seemed like he was always pushing us to be better and faster.

Top: 1st day class photo of the Iaido Intensive. Sensei Raab Rashi and Sempai Sara Tunick in the middle.
Bottom: 1st day class photo of the Kendo Intensive. Sensei  Christophe Salet in the middle. 

For the first month, the Intensive classes were once a week. Each class followed a similar structure. In Iaido, we would do warm ups and stretches, then work on a different Cutting Form each day (6 in total). In Kendo, we would do warm-ups, then practice different basic techniques. We learned about different strikes to the head (sayu men), the wrist (kote), the torso (doe), and stabbing to the neck (Tsuki). My favorite thing to learn was the Kendo no Kata, which were choreographed forms done with a partner to practice certain techniques. They felt the most like an actual sword fight and since the emphasis was on technique rather than intensity, I actually found it very calming.

About halfway through a class, the intermediate students would suit up in armor (Bogu) and let us strike them with our bamboo swords (shinai). Sometimes we were the targets of strikes and had to hold our swords in a position to block the hit, which was rather scary. One time while doing this, I stepped out of time and took a shinai right to the nose. Didn't do too much damage, but I had a scrape there for a while to remind me not to do that again.

Practicing sans armor with an intermediate

Despite the fact that both forms were based on the same weapon, the differences were more numerous than I thought. Iaido had seemingly dozens of different ways to draw and sheath the sword, while Kendo had only a couple. Iaido had us crossing our feet to step while we raised our sword to cut. Kendo always kept the right foot in front and we only stepped during the strike, not during the lift. There were even minor details in how to hold the sword. In Kendo, my bottom hand was as far down as it could go, whereas in Iaido, left some of the handle (tsuka) sticking out.

One of the things that I had the hardest time adjusting to in both forms, and I still struggle with from time to time, is how the hands work with the swords. The left hand is always on the bottom and is considered "the power." The right hand is only used to "steer" the sword to different angles. As I'm right handed, it was difficult to resist the temptation to use my right hand for extra power, but the Senseis could usually tell when I was doing it because it often threw my attack off center.

My fellow beginners and I all struggled together, and we each had our own problems. My kiai (shout) wasn't loud enough, others had difficulty with footwork, or posture, or holding the sword properly. Bear in mind this was based on what we heard Salet Sensei comment on. In truth, it was probably all of the above for everyone. In hindsight, I now know Sensei was letting a lot of things slide due to our inexperience. It was a process, but about halfway through I decided both sword forms were worth pursuing. Iaido gave me the experience of handling a real sword for cutting, and Kendo gave the experience of dueling. They were challenging, exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes scary, but never unpleasant. Tiny victories kept me going, such as my first successful strike in Kendo, and things to look forward to beyond the intensive, such as wearing armor, and cutting actual targets (tameshigiri). Perhaps the only hindrance was a persistent blister on my left foot, but I thought that was a small price to pay.

I don't remember much about the last classes of the Intensive. It just felt like it was suddenly over and we were on our own to decide the future of our training. I still had those pre-paid classes left to use, but I already knew I would be continuing beyond that. Some of my fellow beginners expressed their intention to call it quits, and in the following weeks, a couple more dropped off one by one. Of the three people in the photos who were in both Intensives, I was the only one who stayed on. Of the others, there's one other person from each group I still see regularly.

Cutting

Ultimately, the whole point of practicing with a metal sword in Iaido is to learn how to cut actual objects. The practice is called Tameshigiri, and the most common object used are Tatami, straw mats rolled up and then soaked overnight in water to soften them. We would have had used them for a class during the Intensive, but there was a shortage so we practiced on toilet paper instead. 

A few weeks after the Intensive, I attended my first cutting practice. On that day, we partnered with the HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) students, so there were a lot of people there with long swords and about half a dozen or so with katanas. 

Rashi Sensei lent me one of his Shinken (cutting sword) for the day. It felt big and heavy in my hands, and had a handle wrapping that reminded me of the 80's. I watched as the other student deftly sliced through their tatami, and then I stepped up. I drew the sword, walked up to the target, set my angle, and swung. 

THUNK.

My blade went a few inches in, then stopped. I tried to pull it up in reverse of the swing, but it was stuck. Sensei guided me into pulling it out in the opposite motion of a stab. Not the most auspicious start. It took two more swings before I sliced clean through the tatami. Every other strike on that one took at least two attempts to get through. Just went to show me that it was a lot harder than the other students made it look. 

If memory serves, about a half of my cuts during that session were successful. I attended two more cutting sessions over subsequent weeks with similar results. What really made a difference was a Cutting Retreat in May.  

We drove to the home of a Sensei in New Jersey and had a camp out. The next day we were joined by a few other students in the area and spent the whole day cutting tatami. We each cut 10 mats in total, the first 5 under supervision from a Sensei, the last five on our own. While my success ratio improved, I found I had the most trouble with the left-to-right downward cut, and the right-to-left horizontal cut.

Cutting at the retreat

I also got to see a lot more advanced styles from the Senseis, such as the Wakizashi and double/triple thick tatami. I made a note to try those at some point in my training. For now, the most immediate goal was to get my own Shinken. The loaner I always used just felt too heavy and just not quite right for me.

Level Up

Around the time of the cutting retreat, I took my first level test. Since I had been training in both forms more or less evenly, I tested for both at once. For Iaido, all I had to do was 100 Quicksteps (Haya suburi), a basic overhead cut, and the 1st Cutting Form. For Kendo, I had to do Suburi, basic strikes and footwork, and the first two kata.

It was a lot to do at once and I practiced at home as much as I could. On the day, Senseis Rashi and Salet dressed up in suits, set up their table, and called us up by rank. At my level, I was testing with four others (1 of which had been with me during the Intensive).

First test

The highest ranked student in the dojo served as proctor and called out each technique we were to perform. I did okay on the footwork and Suburi, a few small fumbles but nothing major. But when it came time for the basic strikes, things got hairy. During one of the strikes, the proctor called out "Hidari Men" meaning I was to hit the left side of my target's head. I did it the first just fine, but on the second, my body went on autopilot and the strike went to the right side of the head. Wrong target.

I froze. I had screwed up, and I heard the proctor hesitate when she saw. That was it, I thought, this was the instant fail. But I remembered what one of the upper students had told me before the test.

"If you do something wrong, do it with confidence. There's always a chance the Senseis won't notice."

I held my pose and continued on like nothing happened, even though my confidence was rattled. I got through the rest of the Kendo test and the Iaido went without incident.

Well, there's always next time I thought. That missed strike haunted me for the next week. I was hitting myself for making such a clumsy mistake. But when I got the test results back, I was surprised to learn that I had passed both, admittedly by the skin of my teeth.

It seems the Senseis hadn't noticed my error. And the only reason the Proctor had hesitated is because she thought she had called out the wrong target. Regardless, I now had a rank other than just "Beginner." (Yon Kyu in Kendo and 4th Keup in Iaido).

Mentsuke! 

Kendo classes proceeded much like that had in the Intensive, albeit with slightly less hand holding. Although no one flat out told me, I was considered an Intermediate at that point. I participated in the group exercises with the rest, though I was still usually dismissed for the last 30 minutes while they did sparring exercises. A couple weeks after the Intensive ended, my Bogu (armor) arrived. 

I had long been eager to wear the armor with the rest of the class, not just to advance, but for the protection it provided. I never quite got over the anxiety of having to receive strikes with only my sword. And that would still have to continue. Learning to wear Bogu was a gradual process. First I started with just the torso parts (Tare and Do). Salet Sensei made a point of giving me several good smacks on my Do as an initiation. 

For about two months, I wore just the chest parts to class. I was now allowed to stay longer as I got used to it. It's funny, it didn't weigh that much, but it still brought down my form. Initially, I had trouble keeping my back straight, and lifting my sword up properly. Eventually, the Kote (gloves) were added. That was the hardest adjustment as it was a lot harder to be adjust of my grip.

Finally, the day came that I was asked to put on my Men (helmet). I was supposed to practice at home a few times, but I didn't spend as much time on that as I should have. I fumbled with the tenugui (head wrap) and even worse with hemo (strings). I didn't realize until much later, but my first time wearing it in class was very sloppy. My chin wasn't in the proper holder, the sights were so low that I had a bar right in the middle of my field of vision, and the hemo weren't lined up properly. During one of the drills, Salet sensei was doing a charge past me and nearly knocked it off my face.

"Chin in!" he screamed, not for the first time.

Despite this rough beginning, from that moment on, I felt like a true Kenshi.

First day in Bogu

Shiai

I should mention that the 2nd time I wore my Men was my first Shiai (inner-dojo tournament). This was in early May and I had about 4 months of training under my belt. My technique had improved marginally, and had a grasp of the basics. I had seen the other students compete before, so I knew generally what was expected. Basically it wasn't enough to get a "touch" like in traditional fencing. The referees would only award a point if one's form, posture, footwork was good. Points could only be earned with "good Kendo." Regardless, my experience in Jigeiko (free sparring) was minimal so I fully expected to get my ass handed to me. I decided that the best thing I could do was attack as often as I could. I wasn't really that good at going backwards at that time anyway.

I fought in two bouts during the competition and managed to score a point in both of them. The first was a decisive loss, but the second I managed to run out the clock while tied. I only lost because my opponent managed to score first. Still, not the slaughter I had been expecting and Salet Sensei later complimented me on my confidence in going straight for the attack.

My second shiai went even better. I fought in 4 bouts, scored 3 points total, and won against a kenshi who was about a month behind me in training. I discovered that my signature move was the Do strike. I was very adept at lifting up like I was going for Men, then striking Do when my opponent raised to block, though the Senseis cautioned me that I had a "leaning problem."

My four bouts from the 2nd shiai. 

The 3rd shiai didn't go as well, but I had just recovered from a back operation, so I'm giving myself some slack on that. It's worth noting that I faced that student again whom I beaten before. I was so confident from that victory, that I underestimated his kokoro (spirit). He was so aggressive, he kept me off balance the whole bout. Suffice to say, he got his revenge.

Lightsaber Kendo

In the late summer, there was a big lightsaber fight in Washington Square Park. I had gone the previous year with a toy saber and ended up swinging it lightly for a few minutes before getting bored. This time, Rashi Sensei wanted to do some lightsaber kendo at the event. I and one other student volunteered to go with him. I was lent a dueling saber. 

It was a lot of fun being able to apply real Kendo with a glowing saber, though the weirdest part was fighting in shoes. Several of the other saberists there were also kenshi and one of them judged our bout. According to him I won, but I know my form needed work. 

Lightsaber kendo bout (from the Saber Legion Youtube channel).

I did mock duels with a few others, but I was quite outclassed. I hadn't quite gotten the hang of using iaido techniques with an opponent, and I was afraid of hurting my unarmed opponents if I used Kendo. Nevertheless, it was a lot of fun. As mentioned in a previous post, I bought myself a lightsaber for any future duels, though I think I'll be replacing it for reasons I'll go into in another post. 

Four kenshi and one of the other saberists after the duel

Gasshuku

As summer drew to a close, the senseis announced that they were going to hold a weekend summer camp for Kendo students. From Friday night to Sunday afternoon, we would be at the dojo taking intense instruction. The term Gasshuku means "living together" in that the students would be together non-stop for several hours at a time. I eagerly signed up. 

Friday began with some classroom instruction in which the senseis deconstructed several of the terms they had taught us and really dug into what it meant to be a good Kenshi. We then had a regular class followed by a potluck dinner. 

Potluck dinner (from the Sword Class NYC Facebook Page)

Saturday, we really hit the ground running. Everyone was roused at 6:00 AM to the sound of "Eye of the Tiger" before 45 min of Jigeiko (open sparring) at 6:15. There were no warm-ups, drills, or practice. Everyone just suited up and it was go time. The idea was that in feudal Japan, battles began in the morning and an army had to mobilize and be ready to fight with little notice. 

Suiting up for Gi Gekko (from the Sword Class NYC Facebook Page)

I was a little nervous about this part of the Gasshuku, but once it began, it was really great. There was no baggage of trying to apply a technique we'd learned in class, or fixing something that Sensei had commented on. For the first time, my Kendo was all my own. That's not to say I didn't make mistakes or have things to work on. Just that the fighting was all me. We didn't keep score, so I can't say how well I did exactly, but it was a great way to get the juices flowing in the morning. 

After breakfast, we had some more classroom instruction before we went outside to a park to practice our Kata for 3 hours. I learned 2 new forms and I saw the Dans (equivalent to a black belt) learning advanced kata with a Wakizashi. 

Kata in the park (from the Sword Class NYC Facebook Page)

As mentioned before, kata was one of my favorite parts of Kendo, so this was a good way to wind down from the morning Jigeiko. We had a few hours to rest up before we had some more classroom instruction, then another regular class. 

Sunday was the lightest day. We did some more kata practice, then class and Jigeiko. By this point, some of the students had dropped off due to other commitments. I'd say about two thirds made it through the whole weekend. It had been an intense couple days, and didn't do any favors for the blisters on my foot, but it helped a lot of things click. I felt my posture start to harmonize, and consequently, my confidence improved.

Other Sword Forms

As mentioned at the top, my original goal when I started this was to try new things. I dabbled in other hobbies like archery, but I mostly dived into the various other sword forms the school had to offer.

Kenjutsu

After I passed my first Kendo test, I learned Salet Sensei also taught a weekly Kenjutsu class. In a broad sense, Kenjutsu refers to all Japanese sword martial arts, but it might be easier to use the term to describe any sword form that's not Iaido or Kendo. I was curious what the class was about so I decided to check it out.

I learned the class was basically learning 10 Kata called Keishicho Keishi Ryu. These kata were the forerunners of the kata we practiced in Kendo, and historically were one of the first attempts to create a single unified sword form in Japan. As it was explained to me, sometime around the tail end of the Edo period, all the clans submitted a single kata that best exemplified their fighting style. These were then taught to the police, who would then theoretically be able to defeat any criminal from any clan. 

In order to train properly, I was lent a heavier wooden bokken which would facilitate full contact between the swords. Our regular bokken were too lightweight for that kind of training. During my first class, I was immediately thrown by the whole new world of techniques the form offered. The very first kata includes an infamous strike in which one partner stands on one foot and hits their opponent's sword to the ground mid-swing.

I immediately gravitated to the new form. Out of all the ones I'd tried, I felt it offered the most techniques meant to be used in an actual sword fight. (Iaido never used partner exercises or sparring, and Kendo was confined to specific strikes and targets). I ordered my own heavy bokken and have been training ever since. To date, I've learned 4 of the 10 kata.

Dagger

As mentioned on top, Sword Class NYC offered HEMA classes, so in the late summer/early fall, I decided to partake in a few. Unlike the Eastern form classes, which had specific Reiho and regimented rituals, I found the HEMA classes much more casual. For instance students didn't wear any standardized uniform, just gym clothes, and the pre-class rituals were minimal to non-existent. 

The dagger was the first one I tried. My girlfriend (now fiancee) decided to accompany me as she thought learning how to defend against a medieval dagger would be practical if she was ever attacked by someone with a knife. I was a little surprised to find that the techniques tended to favor grappling and disarming rather than blade-to-blade combat. Additionally, most of the disarms suggested grabbing your opponent's dagger by the blade. It may sound counter-intuitive, but the "cutting" action of a sharp edge comes more from it sliding across the surface than from pressuring the edge itself. Grabbing a knife by the edge might break the skin a little, but if it prevents you from getting stabbed, "tis but a scratch." 

Although we've been having trouble going to these classes regularly, we did buy a practice dagger to use at home. As an aside, the dagger instructor did leave me with a funny comparison between historical weapon styles from Europe vs Eastern sword techniques. 

"European styles are about getting a good hit without getting struck yourself. Eastern styles are about getting a good hit even if you get struck yourself." 

Long Sword

Many of the HEMA students at the dojo, including those in Dagger, seem to think of Longsword as the starter weapon. I decided to try some beginner classes to see where they were coming from. Most of the basic strikes were similar to the ones found in Iaido, so I grasped them pretty easily. The footwork was a little more like regular walking than the "sliding" steps of Kendo. The one technique that threw me for a loop involved inverting the sword and striking with the rear edge. The katana is a single edged sword, so the whole concept of having a second edge to work with was completely foreign.

I also learned about a funny move you see in films that the instructor referred to as "Star Wars-ing".

See below:

Apparently, this is a terrible way to hold a sword or other bladed weapon because your hands are pushing against each other. Regardless of which direction you move it, you're only using half your available power. The correct way would be if Rey twisted her left arm so both her knuckles were pointed at the target in front of her. Something to keep in mind next time you're in a lightsaber fight.

Sadly, the intermediate Longsword classes were so densely packed that they had a wait list, so that put a hold on my training in this form beyond the beginner classes. I hope to come back to it at some point, especially learning how to duel, but for now it's on the back burner.

Olympic Fencing

The last "new thing" of the year was fencing with my father. He had gotten into it several years back and had progressed to the level where he could hold his own against world champions his own age. When I got into sword sports on my own, he was very excited to give me a few lessons once the holidays rolled around. In a way, things came full circle. My journey began with a Christmas gift. To launch me in this new form, my dad got me a fencing uniform for Christmas. 

We started with Epee, where the entire body is a target and points are scored by stabbing. If two touches are scored simultaneously, they both count. Out of the 3 fencing weapons, this one is regarded as the closest to fighting in an actual duel. I got the hang of the footwork pretty quickly, but the difficulties increased radically from there. Kendo and Iaido both emphasized slashing over stabbing, so I kept wanting to lift my blade up to swing, which is the fencing equivalent of saying "come stab me." On top of that, all fencing forms encourage retreating immediately from a lunge after making an attack. This was completely at odds with my Kendo training which encourages kenshi to go through or into their opponent after an attack. As someone caught between opposing styles, I split the difference by lunging... and then not moving, which coupled with my poor point control cost me points. As you can see in the video, I had a lot of trouble doing a proper lunge and retreat.

Epee bout with dad

We moved onto Sabre, in which everything above the waist is a target and any part of the blade can be used. I thought I would have an easier time of this since slashing is more my jam, but I ran into the stumbling block that is "right of way." Unlike Epee, one fencer is always considered to be on offence and which puts the other on defense. In the event both fencers score a touch at the same time, only the one on offense gets a point. The only way to switch from defense to offense is to successfully parry or dodge an attack. 

Learning the guard position for saber

I admit, I had a lot of trouble with parries. In Kendo, they're not taught until later on. As the dagger instructor mentioned, avoiding an attack is less of a priority than being the first to get a good hit. It was in sabre that I felt the full force of his words as I often went for an attack without any regard for my opponent's blade. Blade contact was also a problem.  In Kendo, it mostly happened in the moments leading up to a strike to feel out the opponent and to offset their attack if needed, what my Sensei referred to as "taking the center." In fencing, blade contact was only encouraged for the purpose of a deliberate parry, otherwise an attacker could inadvertently lose their right of way if the defender "beat" their blade, even if there was no actual attack. It took some time, but I managed to get the hang of flowing between offense and defense, though the bouts still weren't that long as I often got struck on the wrist in the first exchange. 

Learning how to parry.

We finished with a lesson in Foil, where only the chest and back can be targeted by a stabbing attack. I was a little nervous about this one due to the reputed "whipping" attack in which a blade can swung around to stab someone in the back. But if you take away that, and the other advanced flair techniques, it actually felt like the easiest to learn. Right of Way was still in effect, but with a smaller target area, it was much easier to parry attacks. We had several exchanges that delved into an almost theatrical back-and-forth. My dad also taught me the concept of "broken time" in which he pauses his counter-attack so that my parry would miss, leaving me open to be struck. I'd say this one was my favorite weapon for the longer bouts. 

My dad showed me a lot of concepts in our few days of one-on-one. He explained the idea of "layers of targeting." The wrist and arm are often the closest targets, so in some ways that makes them the most vulnerable. Depending on posture, the chest usually opens next, and then the head. I ended up adjusting my Kendo to practice more Kote (wrist) strikes based on this theory and its paid off a few times. While parries were harder to include, I did take the concept of the "beat" and use it to throw an attack off center before it happend, leaving me open to score. It's worked pretty well when my opponent wasn't expecting it. I haven't figured out how to incorporate broken time into my Kendo yet, but maybe an opportunity will present itself someday.

Continuing Training and New Equipment 

It's funny to think how far I've come in just a year. Perhaps the most emblematic of this is that all the swords I started with have been replaced. My shinai was the first to wear out, which is natural since it takes the most punishment. I noticed one of the former students from the intensive left his behind, so I reached out to him through Facebook to ask if I could take it off his hands. He replied, "It would be an honor if you took over my shinai." On the same day, one of the other Iaido students ordered a nice new iai (metal sword). It was high end, but wasn't up to his exact specifications, so he ordered a replacement. Sensei offered me the discarded one, since it was was easier than shipping it back, and was my size. It's expected that Iaido students will trade up to a nicer iai at a certain point, so this was a fortuitous opportunity. The last to fail was my bokken. During a class, I clanged it hard against a low hanging pipe. When I examined it later, I saw it had a large crack across the blade. Nothing a little tape wouldn't hold, but still unsuitable for class, so I ordered a replacement, somewhat symbolically shedding my Beginner self.

Just this month, I aquired the latest addition to my inventory: my very own Shinken. Again, this was discarded hand-off. Rashi Sensei ordered it for himself, but it was too long for him. He offered it to everyone, and as I didn't have my own yet, I offered to take it. It's about an inch shorter than I'm used to, but it handles much the same. I haven't tried it out yet, but I expect my cutting will improve with a sword that's more my speed.

My current swords. From the top down, Shinken (cutting sword), Iai (training sword), 

Bokken (practice sword), Heavy Bokken (for Kenjutsu), and Shinai (fencing sword)

In early January, I returned for my one year anniversary as a student to the annual 1000 Suburi. This time there were no breaks between sets, making me suspect that they were originally for my benefit. There were no beginners, just kenshi ready to show their full kokoro. I got up to 400 before I needed to take my first breather and I think I got up to about 6 or 7 hundred in total. 1000 is required for the Dan level in Iaido, so I have ways to go yet, in more ways than one. For now, there's a new batch of kenshi from latest Intensive, and we all have much to learn, and a little bit to teach.


Updated on 2/2/18 to correct spelling of Kendo terms.