"Outdoor Training in the Nutmeg State" or "Connecticut Yankee Karate"

The woods surrounding Lake Whitney in Hamden, CT. It was one of my favorite places to get away from other people. It was also where I liked to practice Karate and weapons, out of sight of the public but in the fresh air and sunshine.

My love for outdoor training began in 1982, when I started learning Tang Soo Do.

As I've said before, a new year is often used as a time to make a new beginning in a new direction. The previous two years, '80 and '81, sucked for reasons too numerous to get into here.

I was off to a good start in 1981, having hooked up with a couple of good kung fu teachers.* But by March, I had to take time off due to a badly sprained shoulder, the result of learning roll-outs on a concrete floor.

When I recovered, their school had closed and I had no way to reach them.

Combined with some other difficulties I faced that year, I lost any real interest in maintaining my health. I didn't exercise. I flunked out of school. I didn't practice any of the martial arts I'd learned from various instructors over the years. I pretty much became a couch potato.

By the end of 1981, I found out about the Southern Connecticut State College Karate Club from a guy I'd met at a party. At $25 a semester, it seemed like the answer to my prayers. Even working minimum wage, I could easily afford that.

So in January 1982, I B.S.'ed my way into the club, pretending to be a college student even though I was beginning my second sophomore year of high school.

I threw myself into a major fitness regimen, which included joining the Yoga Club at my high school, lifting weights, running and, of course, learning Tang Soo Do at the SCSC Karate Club.

I'd had a strong knowledge of the basics of karate from other teachers. To me, the important thing was learning the forms in Tang Soo Do. But since I felt confined trying to practice sets in my basement, I took it outside.

In those cold, New England winters, I would often do up to five runs each of an individual form in the Putnam Avenue Schoolyard behind my house, wearing my gi pants, sneakers and a sweatshirt.

Occasionally, someone would see me practicing, but they left me alone. I had a reputation as a non-conformist, so seeing my practicing karate outdoors really didn't surprise anyone.

At school, when my friends took smoke breaks, I often ran through my forms in the courtyard. There were actually a few good martial artists and boxers at the small private high school I attended for my second sophomore year. Some of them would join in and show what they could do.

By the end of the spring semester, I'd earned a high green belt and learned the first nine forms, the three Gichus, the five Pyang Ahns and Bassai Dai. I'd also earned straight A's on a report card for the first and only time in my life.

Also in 1982, I'd cross-trained in different arts as I made the acquaintance of other local martial artists, particularly Steve Williams. Steve, who became my boxing coach, also held a shodan in Jujitsu, which he also taught me, along with bits and pieces of other styles of Kung Fu and Karate.

Muhammad Ali, chopping wood at his Pennsylvania training camp. Chopping wood is one of the best exercises for fighters. My boxing coach, Steve Williams, and my father, both spent a lot of time around lumberjacks. Both spoke from personal experience when they warned me "Never get into a fight with a man who swings an axe for a living."

Most of our training was very impromptu. Our sessions often happened when he happened to be visiting his brother-in-law, Alex, who lived down the street from me. Steve and I would spar, practicing boxing drills or two-man Jujitsu sets in our street clothes on Alex's front lawn.

In addition to his knowledge of martial arts, Steve saw himself as a Native American shaman. Seriously. He was quite knowledgeable about Native American art, culture and mysticism. From his home in Northford, he taught classes in survival techniques and did his best to educate people on the Indian ways.

He had a love of the outdoors, which showed itself in his preference for training outdoors. He also chopped wood, both as a business and an exercise. Both Steve and my father, who spent a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest, taught me the same lesson - "Never get into a fight with a man who swings an axe for a living." It strengthens the exact same muscles you use to throw a punch.

By the end of 1982, I hooked up with my old Kung Fu instructors. Through 1983 until I left Connecticut in October 1984, I met and trained with other martial artists, picking up whatever I could from them, whether forms, training methods or skill with weapons.

All of this happened while earning my black belt in Tang Soo Do.

But when I couldn't be with my instructors or training partners, I let the woods or lakes become my dojo. I did my breakfalls and bag work in my basement, but forms, weapons and shadowboxing took place mostly out-of-doors.

I could train in public parks, in wooded areas new my house along Lake Whitney. Because the latter was not public property, I could practice with weapons without fear of arrest since no one would see me.

But more than the privacy, I came to enjoy my time outside, breathing in what passed for fresh air in Southern Connecticut and soaking up sunshine in a too-short New England summer.

TOMORROW'S POST: "Placerville Pugilism" or "Fists and Feet in the Foothills"

*Nearly 30 years later, I gotta admit, their way of teaching breakfalls and rollouts not only sucked, but it was downright dangerous. I would never, ever advocate practicing breakfalls or rollouts on anything but a well matted floor, at least not in the early stages. Even then, practicing anything on concrete is stupid and dangerous and I have only three words on that subject - DON'T DO IT!

Saturday in the Yard. I think it was the 15th of May.

Don came by today for the first time in a couple of months. The life of a secret agent* is a busy one that takes him away from town for weeks at a time. When he gets back, he has a lot of catch-up to do with his wife and kids. As much as we enjoy our workouts, I gotta respect that he puts his family obligations first.

Today's Saturday session was pretty typical. We pick each other's brains about various forms and applications from Chinese gung fu, discuss the latest in personal fitness and try to get as much done in between breaks to watch the Tsarevich do his latest bike trick.

But the latest entry in today's Dojo Rat blog got me thinking about my long history of outdoor training. As journalist and martial artist Joe Hyams once said in his classic, "Zen in the Martial Arts," - "Anyplace can be a dojo."

Easily, one of the greatest books ever written on the martial arts.

Don and I have trained together for nearly 10 years. It started when I read an ad he put in a weekly newspaper, looking for training partners interested in Yau Kung Mun and Hung Gar Kung Fu. I'd had some training in Hung Gar and was interested in learning more about that art.

For the most part, our training sessions did take place outdoors, sometimes in Don's backyard; sometimes in the cul-de-sac where our friend, Tony Chan, holds his workouts; but usually, here in the Carport Kwoon.

I should mention that the carport is the only shelter for my practice area. When doing some heavy weapons work or a lot of forms, I use the side or front yard. The backyard is for the dogs to shit in.

One of the first times Don came over to practice, he was reluctant to use the front yard. He's always been a very private individual and I try to respect that. But in addition to the greater open space in the front, I also prefer to practice on grass.

You gotta admit - a sight like this will slow traffic on your street.

Wood is my second choice for a training area. A padded floor, like the floor of my carport, is somewhat better than bare concrete, but not by much. Over the years, I've learned that exercising on concrete is a recipe for rheumatoid arthritis, among other health issues. Truth is, I'm not even sure I believe it is safe to stand or walk on concrete for extended periods, let alone exercise on it.

Don relented when I convinced him that my street is generally pretty private. It's not a major through-street, so I don't have to worry about cars constantly going back and forth. After 12 years here, the neighbors have gotten used to me.

They also know that some strange behavior on the front yard is a small price to pay for a great neighbor like me. I don't mean to brag, but I don't drink, I don't throw loud parties, I don't blast my stereo or have a loud muffler on my car.

And since I started swinging my kwan dao or sam jie guan in the front yard, it has slowed down traffic as people try to take a look at what I'm doing.

Occasionally, someone does stop and try to talk to me about what I'm doing. I remember one morning in particular, one of Tampa's Finest came by in a plain brown wrapper** while I was working the kwan dao.

He slowed down, pulled up and said "hi."

"That thing looks pretty heavy!" he said, leaning across his seat.

"Yep," I said. "That sucker weighs about 15 pounds. It'll give you a helluva workout. Wanna give it a try?"

The officer said "thanks" but that he was looking for someone in the neighborhood who failed to appear in court.

"Well, have a good one and I hope you catch him," I said.

It's times like that that make me glad to live in Florida. In other places where I've lived, I'd be committing a felony for training outside with a weapon.

TOMORROW'S POST: "Outdoor Training in the Nutmeg State" or "Connecticut Yankee Karate".

*Look, I don't know for sure what he does for a living. All I know is that he travels abroad, often for weeks at a time. Calling Don a secret agent is just a lot easier than just admitting I don't know what the hell he's doing.

**Policeman in an unmarked car

Let's try this again! A new month, a new beginning.

Breaking out with my kwan dao for the first time in nearly a year.

I had some high hopes at the beginning of March.

My health was good. My back recovered from a major sprain. I'd been doing the Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen and the Dai Pa almost every weekday for a month, sometimes as much as five times each.

But shortly after my last post, I got hit with that flu that was going around, along with a major sinus infection. It kept me from training for more than three weeks.

In early April, I joined a gym. Actually, it is the weight room at the Cordelia B. Hunt Recreation Center, at Al Lopez Park. It's not much better than my home gym, but it gives me a place to train indoors.

April had its own monkey wrenches. I'd been stepping up my job search and getting some new writing assignments. Nothing major, but every bit helps these days. Also, Vitaly had his spring break. Roxanne wanted to do some traveling, so we went to the Phosphate Museum in Mulberry, Ft. DeSoto Park for fishing and swimming, and Solomon's Castle in Hardee County. The latter is a real Florida treasure I can't recommend enough for someone looking for something out of the ordinary.

After spring break, I decided it was time to ease myself back into some regular workouts. I've been dealing with some knee pain for much of the past year, so I used the time off to re-examine my workouts.

As much as I hate to say it, I'm putting a number of forms on hiatus because of the demands they put on that joint. Anything with any duck walking or knee-drops is out of my repertoire for the time being. Sadly, that includes many Yau Kung Mun sets and the Dai Pa.

It does, however, allow me, actually it forces me, to improve on the following forms, techniques and training methods:

1. All the Wing Chun forms, including Siu Lam Tao, Chum Kiu, Biu Jee, Mook Yan Johng Kuen.

2. From Yau Kung Mun, that leaves me with the Yin Ching Kuen, the Gau Bo Toi and the Sup Baht Mor Kiu.

3. The Gung Gee Fuk Fu of Hung Gar.

4. As far as Chinese weapon sets, that leaves me with the Luk Dim Bun Guan (Wing Chun giant pole); the Baht Cham Dao (Wing Chun butterfly swords, both Yip family and mainland versions); and the Kwan Dao from Yau Kung Mun.

The kwan dao. That sucker weighs about 15 to 20 pounds. It'll give you one helluva workout!

Today's workout emphasized the last weapon. Since I overslept this morning, I decided to eat bitter and workout at noon. That's no mean feat in the 90-degree Florida sun.

Following a run of my full-body stretch, I completed my first run of the Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen in more than two months. Thankfully, the light workouts of the past few weeks have paid off. Though I was winded, I still managed to do the set with proper attention to stances and body mechanics.

During a short break where I watched a video of the kwan dao, I went outside to do five runs of the first third of that set, which I call the "Attacking and Retreating Section."

In some ways, it's easier than it looks to wield a nearly 20-pound kwan dao. It forces you to let gravity and momentum do most of the work. Once that weapon gets going, it is very hard to stop. Even though the blade is unsharpened, the sheer weight of that thing could do a lot of damage. I found out the hard way last year when I sliced through a shoe and sock while practicing with it. I kept my toes, but I needed a tetanus shot after treating a three-inch gash on my calf.

But it's also hard because you still need good stances and good basics to control the flight and fall of your kwan dao. Otherwise, it could pull you off your feet or fly out of your hands. I'm sure the latter would cost points in a tournament if you happen to kill one of the judges.

Part of a new combination I developed for the wooden dummy.
1. Pak sao da (Palm block, hit)
2. Pak sao, elbow
3. Seven Stars Throw. The last move is from Preying Mantis Kung Fu, but I like it so much I'm incorporating it into my Wing Chun forms and repertoire.

The heat got to me. After the fourth set, I returned to the carport to close with some dummy training. For today's practice, I did the classic Yip family form on that dummy, but I added a few things to it. I don't claim to have a better way to do that form. I simply wanted to work on some combinations for my own use either in competition or self-defense.

It wasn't about correcting any shortcomings in that form, but about correcting some of my own shortcomings, especially my own lack of good combinations at close range.

With the dummy form completed, I knocked off and returned inside, to blog on this workout and plan for tomorrow's.

A New Month, A New Beginning

The start of a new month, or a new week, or a new year, also seem to give us the impetus to start some new projects, or to undertake some new resolutions.

I was thinking about that yesterday as I marveled that it is already March 2010. But the new month was not the only thing that got me thinking in terms of setting new goals for myself.

Saturday, I received that one piece of mail that I look forward to late each winter - the invitation and the sign-up sheet for the International Chinese Martial Arts Championship, to be held at the Gaylord Palms Resort in Orlando.

Chi sao, as demonstrated by Sam Kwok and Ip Ching. Kwok Sifu taught Hunter von Unschuld, my sifu.

I've answered that call three times in the past, the last time in 2006, the year just before my son came to stay with us. I was training hard to compete in that tournament in 2008, with the full intention of competing for the Southern Style Grand Championship. I even bought a brand-new, combat steel kwan dao and learned to use it for the event.

An example of a kwan dao, easily the heaviest weapon with which I've ever trained.

But sadly, on the day I was going to pay my entry fee, I got laid off from my job at the college. The job loss completely knocked me for a loop. I also wasn't sure I wanted to continue to spend money on the event.

Well, I'm still not working steady, but I looked over that entry form. I filled in the blanks for "Over-35 hand forms," "Over-35 weapons" and "Chi Sao." I was tempted to fill out the blanks for the various Southern Style Kung Fu events. Though I'm rusty, I still remember how to do the cutlass and the staff sets. I could do a Lion's Roar set for the Southern Style Long Hand event and a Yau Kung Mun/Bak Mei set for the Short Hand form.

However, the entry fees would be just too much. It would also take added time that I should be using to do or find paying work.

And, I am 45-years-old. I can still do some good forms, but it would be one Hell of an uphill fight to try to impress the judges when being matched against high school and college kids.

If I do that tournament, I'll focus on quality rather than quantity performances. Just three events - an empty-hand form, a weapons set and chi sao. By focusing on them, I stand a better chance of doing well.

Of course, the trickiest thing will be getting in practice for chi sao. I've lost touch with my Wing Chun brothers, though I do have a lead on one of them. Instead, I just got on Facebook and let my buddies know I'm looking for chi sao partners. I was pleasantly surprised to have the following training partners and instructors answer that call.

Anthony Chan: My instructor in Jeet Kune Do and Filipino Tribal Arts. He has some training in chi sao from me and our mutual instructor, Hunter von Unschuld. Good trapping skills, too, from the Filipino arts and JKD.

Practicing Filipino Tribal Arts with my instructor, Anthony Chan

Don Weiss: My instructor in Yau Kung Mun and Hung Gar. I've helped him cross-train in Wing Chun. Apparently, the Wing Chun dummy set was appropriated for YKM and Bak Mei, a related art. I'll most likely be using YKM sets in the forms and weapon competition. Don's developed some good chi sao, though some of his signature moves (like biting) would be illegal in competition.

Bret Bumgarner: He's been teaching me Baguazhang, and has some training in Taijiquan. He's got good push-hands (t'ui shou) and those principles will carry over into chi sao. In fact, he's partial to what Hunter would calls "sickle hands" motions in his push hands, which is how Chinese Mainlanders do their chi sao.

Baguazhang instructor Bret Bumgarner. Though he doesn't have chi sao training, the principles are similar to his push hands training.

David Somers: A Goju-Ryu Karate master with some training in Wing Chun (at least partly from me). Dave's got a strong root and some great internal training from his Goju.

So now, the only thing left is the entry fees. Unlike other bloggers, I'm not going to shake down my readers, waving a virtual coffee can for you to send your Paypal payments. Though I'm not too proud to accept charity, I won't ask for it.

But since I'm saving for this tournament and a trip to New York for my wife, I am going to be selling heavily on eBay and Amazon again, under the name "The Florida Fanboy." If you dig classic vinyl LP's, comic books from the 1970's and 80's, Playboy back issues or just some other light reading, keep checking back here. I'll be listing items I have up for sale or auction.

It's your chance to catch some good deals!

My Quads Still Hate Bret's Guts!

There was no way in Hell I was going to work out Tuesday. Not after the killer Baguazhang practice I had with Bret Bumgarner on Monday night.

I thought I might do a little bit on the wooden dummy. The stance work for that isn't quite as strenuous as something you might do in Bagua, Hung Gar or Southern Shaolin. But, as much as my legs hurt, I decided to let discretion be the better part of valor and not risk ruining my knees.

By Wednesday, my legs felt like they could accommodate a good, hard workout. Since it had five days since I last did any Hung Gar, I set my mind on doing alternate sets of the Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen (Taming the Tiger Fist) and the Dai Pa (Great Fork) sets.

A demonstration of the Dai Pa (Great Fork)

Though both sets come from Hung Gar, I find that they develop different attributes. The Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen develops a lot of strength and patience. It has some moves done slowly, which I practice with both dynamic tension or slow and relaxed, but with a lot of focus and intent, like a Tai Chi set.

Because the set takes a long time to complete, and in low stances, it forces the student to develop patience and focus.

The Dai Pai, (also known as the Tiger Fork) is a weapons set. It is easily one of the heaviest weapons I've ever studied, along with the Kwan Dao and the Luk Dim Bun Kwan (Nine-foot pole). It is considered the signature weapon of Hung Gar. The famous fighter and teacher, Hung Wong Fei, specialized in that weapon.

The Dai Pa is a much shorter set than the Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen. Like the empty-hand set, it also has a lot of low stances. But, it cultivates the ability to flow smoothly from one move to the next. Stopping after each move would wear out the student.

It also develops a full-body strength, since it takes the whole body to control such a weapon once it is in motion.

I also believe that weapons training improves empty-hand techniques, especially grappling techniques. The same body mechanics used to control a weapon are often the same ones you need to control your opponent's limbs in a fight.

Following four runs of each set, I ran through a complete set of the Mook Yan Johng Kuen (Wooden Dummy set) as well as some individual techniques on the dummy.

Practicing throws and takedowns on the wooden dummy (Mook Yan Johng). Yeah, I know I need to lose some weight.

Though I felt pretty good at the end of that workout, I paid for it yesterday. My legs and glutes were even more sore on Thursday than they were on Tuesday, so much so that I had a hard time getting up and down from a seated position.

As my Jeet Kune Do instructor, Anthony Chan always says, it sucks getting old. Of course, he's six years younger than I am, so he has no idea at all about how right he is. He's also not getting any sympathy from me.

As for today's workout, I'll have to wait-and-see. With a 100-percent chance of rain, anything I do will have to be done in my carport.

That means, no Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen, no Bagua and no Dai Pa due to a complete lack of space.

Someone up there must be looking out for me.

Today's post: "Bagua's a Bitch!" or "My Quads Hate Bret's Guts!"

Baguazhang emphasizes lots of circular movements. It is very sneaky and deceptive, especially to anyone who thinks the art's signature circle walking is easy.

Since the start of the year, I've been focusing a lot on Hung Gar Kung Fu. It's a very demanding art that I knew would get me back in shape, requiring deep, wide stances and powerful upper-body movements.

Besides, I'm writing a young adult novel on a teenage boy who learns Hung Gar from a classmate at school. By brushing up on my own Hung Gar training, it gets me into the mindset I need to accurately describe that art on paper.

I supplemented that training with some silk-reeling exercises as I learned them from Ken Gullette. I found that the silk-reeling really helps to open up my hips making it easier to do the low stances required in Hung Gar sets.

Bret Bumgarner, a Tampa sifu of Gao-family Baguazhang Kung Fu, practicing with a Chinese cutlass called a dan dao. This photo demonstrates the flexibility demanded and developed by the practice of Baguazhang.

Also knowing that Nick Scrima is organizing an all-internal Chinese martial arts tournament in July, I thought it would be a good idea to hook up with Bret Bumgarner again. Bret, as a some of you might have read this past summer, is a local Bagua instructor. His Bagua impressed me as having both sound biomechanics and practical, aggressive, self-defense applications. It also has a strong Xingyiquan flavor, which I enjoy since I'm quite fond of that art.

So I went into Monday's practice at Al Lopez Park confident that the heavy stance work of Hung Gar would carry me through what I knew to be Bret's punishing Bagua training.

I was so wrong.

The workout included lengthy warmups. I was familiar with all those other exercises, but Bret introduced me to some additional exercises to loosen the hips and legs. I should have known it was bad news when he said "This is the fun part."

To be fair, once my back stopped going into spasms, I have to admit that those exercises did a lot to stretch out my lower body. I fully expect to add them to my workouts.

Sun Lu Tang, a noted author and teacher of the Chinese internal martial arts of Tai Chi Chuan, Xingyiquan and Baguazhang, demonstrates the San Ti or "Trinity" stance.

Afterward, we did a lot of movements from the San Ti (aka The Trinity Stance), which is usually associated with Xingyiquan. Those drills are some of my favorite parts of Bret's Bagua, though it does take a lot out of the legs and glutes.

A very good example of the circular footwork of Baguazhang.

From there, we went into some applications and closed with almost 20 minutes of "Walking the Circle," Bagua's signature exercise. That's where everything all comes together in that art. It is from the circle-walking footwork that Bagua people are most famous for their sneakiness and deceptiveness.

It's deceptive not only to an opponent, but also to prospective and beginning students who think that walking in circles for 20 minutes, while still maintaining Bagua principles, is going to be easy.

As my quads can attest to today, it's not.

Keeping my resolutions, one day and one week at a time

I resolved on Sunday that I would not fail to work out each weekday this week.

It's Thursday and so far, I've kept that resolution.

Yesterday, I got my workout off to a late start. The Tsarevich had an early dismissal from school that day, so instead of training on my lunch break, I had to pick him up, assist with his homework, etc. I didn't want to workout when he was home because he had gymnastics that night. I knew from experience that if he followed me outside, that he would get himself exhausted and not do well in gymnastics.

Instead, I planned my workout for while he was in class. That only left me an hour to squeeze in as much as I could.

After dropping him off at Wayne C. Papy Dance and Gymnastics Center, I went to find a quiet place at Lowry Park. I didn't have my tiger fork, but I did bring along 10 iron rings. The rings are used for conditioning and building arm strength.

Hung Gar Kung Fu master, Chiu Chi Ling, demonstrating the use of the iron rings in the movie, "Kung Fu Hustle." The rings are used both as a form of weight training and as weapons.

But during that workout, I came to the conclusion that they develop another attribute - flow. By concentrating on my center, and moving from my waist, I didn't get anywhere nearly as tired as I expected. Even today, I hardly feel sore despite four runs of the Gung Gee Fuk Fu Kuen (Taming the Tiger form) from Hung Gar.

I also remembered that I had a small Chinese cutlass (dao) in my trunk. I closed with four runs of the Yau Kung Mun Dan Dao (single sword) set. Surprisingly, my knee didn't bother me from the knee drops that are part of that form. In fact, the only problem was that the serrations in the back of the blade caught on my sweatshirt several times.

I was also amazed that I completed the whole session in little more than a half-hour, giving me plenty of time to pick up the little Tsarevich.

Gordon Liu demonstrating the use of the iron rings as a training aid.

Today, I noticed that my hard workouts are already having one effect on me. I'm in that phase where I'm hungry all the time, especially for carbs. It's a sure sign that my metabolism is speeding up and I'm burning calories.

Which brings me to today's workout. I suited up and joined the Tsarevich in his karate class. I followed along as best as I could, though I have to admit I'm not a fan of the way Bob Hughes Sensei does his side kick. It just uses too much knee for me.

Still, the class is a workout since, as I said in a previous post, I'm using muscles and nerves to do techniques that I haven't practiced in years. In addition, since my son is in that class, I'm not about to wuss out.

I might wuss out in front of classmates, sparring partners or instructors, but never in front of my son.

I also brought along some of might fighting gear to help the kids with sparring. My days of hard fighting are behind me. I'm not 19 anymore. But it was fun to introduce these kids to sparring. I remember how fun that was for young kids and teenagers. My old Tang Soo Do instructor, Phil Suffredini, would withhold sparring practice as a punishment if the class, or someone in it, screwed up.

That punishment worked since everyone loved to spar so much.

Of course, I also had to go a round with a 17-year-old apprentice black belt. That made me nervous. In more than 30 years in the martial arts, I've learned that the second most dangerous sparring partner is a teenage, male brown belt. They've got a lot to prove.

The first most dangerous is an adolescent female brown belt. They've really got something to prove and I've had some of my worst injuries sparring women.

Given a choice between a male 6'4", 5th degree black belt with prison sculpted muscles and a rap sheet that includes aggravated battery, or a college-age female brown belt, I'll spar with the former any day of the week.

But, I held my own despite the fact it's been almost five years since I did any hard sparring.

I guess this old boy still has a few tricks in him.

Update, Friday Feb. 5

I meant to add that I heard back from Nick Scrima, the promoter of The International Chinese Martial Arts Championship circuit. He told me that there would be no grand championship divisions in the Orlando tournament. As a result, if I do enter that tournament, I'll simply do three events: chi sao (sticky hands); senior (over 35 years-old) traditional hand sets; senior traditional weapons.

For Scrima's internal tournament planned for July, I will do push hands, and some Xingyiquan and/or Yang Taijiquan sets.