Sparring: What I Have Learned as a Short Fighter

Every time I go to a new dojo, someone says something about my height. I’m doing aikido now, and one of the first things the sensei told me was that aikido is good for short people because height and strength are not as important. As a short fighter, I thought I might share a little bit of my experiences in sparring. Keep in mind that I am only a green belt in karate, and if your sensei says something to the contrary of what I write here, trust your sensei. Also, these tips are based on KARATE sparring sessions. I’ve fought some Muay Thai guys, and maybe it’s because they were twice my weight, but some of my usual techniques didn’t work.

I think I’ve been very lucky because my karate sensei isn’t so tall himself, so every now and then he’ll come over and say, “You’ve got short stubby legs like me, so here’s some advice…” Several times he’s told me I’m too short to do a particular kata, and it only makes me laugh.

Kicking:
Being the shorter person in a sparring match means you have to be brave. You might be afraid to get close enough for the other person to kick you because you know that you can’t kick back from too far away. However, think about this. A kick’s power comes in part from the distance the foot/shin travels before it hits you. Think of trying to kick someone who’s standing a foot away from you. Pretty hard, right? Not as effective? Thus, when fighting a taller person, I recommend getting in close. Sure, you’ll take some kicks, but they’ll have less power the closer you are, and you’ll then be close enough for your kicks to be effective.

Get in and get out:
Last year when I went back to karate after a summer of jiu jitsu and frequent running, I was a powerhouse. Not as in totally built, but I had tons of energy for every fight. And I was extremely aggressive, so it wasn’t until my second semester, when I had lost that energy (hard to go running when it’s snowing and I have homework to do), that I realized I’d been relying too much on my stamina. That’s when a Muay Thai guy gave me some advice (from one short person to another): Get in there, get some shots off, and get out. When I fought a tall person, I had the tendency to get in close – and never leave. This was bad because it meant I lost a lot of energy and had little recovery time. So, a smart game plan would be to circle around the ring, bide your time, dodge a bit, and then move in close for your combo attack, then get out and keep your distance. It’s good for recovering, but beware: not every fighter is going to let you go so easily.

Center of gravity:
If you’re shorter, you probably have a lower center of gravity than your opponent. This means that your opponent will have a harder time throwing you, and you’ll have an easier time throwing him/her. Take advantage of this. Learn some throws. Learn how to drop your weight to avoid being thrown.

Beware going to the ground:
If you’re short, you might be small, too. If you are fighting someone heavier than you, who knows jiu jitsu, avoid getting taken to the ground. Even though I learned some jiu jitsu, I eventually got fed up with it because it was just impossible for me to do anything with a guy who weighed 100 more pounds than I did sitting on top of me.

My old instructor told me that it took one of his classmates a year to make someone tap because of the kind of competition they had in their dojo, but if jiu jitsu isn’t your thing, I really don’t encourage doing it. I think it’s an intimate sport with a lot of potential for injury (I wrecked my shoulder my first year, and my sensei cracked two ribs just rolling with someone). Learn how to defend yourself and get back on your feet. Learn to recognize moves and get out of them. And remember, even if you don’t recognize the move, and something hurts, TAP. I tapped once after getting stacked, just because I felt like my neck was about to snap. You can never be too careful.

Don’t underestimate people underestimating you:
This may be more for meeting new fighters than actually fighting them. Or not. I’m not sure. But anyway, here’s an example. Coming to aikido the first time, my sensei first thought I was in middle school (it took some guessing to figure out I was in college) and assumed when I told him that I did karate at school that it was just a couple of months. Later I did tell him I was a green belt, and at one point in class, when a girl winced at how hard my one-hand blocks were, he said about me, “Look at this girl – did you know she was a green belt before? On the street, if you meet someone, how are you going to know if they’re a black belt?” I guess this is more of a story of reminding you to never underestimate your opponent (I was once fighting a 6′ tall guy, and literally standing a foot away from me, he kicked me in the face…gently, because he was a black belt), but I think it can work the other way, too. If you notice your opponent making mistakes because he or she has underestimated you, take advantage of it. Don’t let their stereotyping make you feel like you should conform to some stereotype of what a short fighter is (it’s a psychological thing…like self-fulfilling prophecy). Do your best.

Oh, and last but not least, a tip for point-fighting:
As soon as they say, “Hajime/Start,” MOVE!! If the other guy is taller, he can hit you sooner than you can hit him. So either get going with an attack or get out of the way. I’ve lost too many points because I’ve forgotten to take into account the other person’s range. And it seems to me a good deal of point-fighting depends on the first move. So move.

Okay, those are my thoughts. Questions/comments/corrections/tips are welcome (after all, I’m still learning too). Good luck!

 

Learning how to fall

Updated: 8/1/08
One of the most essential things you can learn in a martial arts class is how to fall properly. I didn’t think I’d be able to remember all the rules in an actual falling situation, but last Saturday proved that with enough practice, you can save yourself some serious injury.

Some things to remember when falling:
1. Don’t let your head hit the ground. This is the most important thing you can do. If you’re falling backwards or onto your side, tuck your chin against your chest. Falling forward is different – turn your head sideways so you don’t smash your face onto the ground. And catch yourself on your forearms – it hurts like hell but it’s better than catching yourself with your nose.

2. Don’t try to break your fall by putting just your hands out. You might break your wrist. If you fall sideways, slap the ground with your arm out to that side at about a 45 degree angle with your palm down so you don’t break your elbow. This will absorb some of the impact into your arm. If you fall backward, use both arms to break your fall. Remember: do not use just your forearms for sideways/backwards falls, or just your hands, because you may break your elbow or your wrist.

3. If you fall backwards, round your back. I don’t know if this is a steadfast rule, but it’s saved me some pain.

4. Practice and have an instructor look at your falls. It isn’t enough for me to just tell you these things. Your body has to get used to it, you have to see what it looks like yourself, and you have to get used to trusting yourself during a fall. If you’re afraid or you panic, you will probably mess up, so practice the falls on a mat or other soft, safe surface. And have an instructor help you.

How learning how to fall saved me:
In the most embarrassing fall ever – honestly, I haven’t accidentally fallen in soooo long, not even when the sidewalks were coated in ice – I fell after doing an exaggerated roundhouse kick through a kicking pad (trying to build on advice my instructor was giving me) and just fell onto my side. I didn’t remember ALL the rules of falling – heck, I fell on instinct alone, and somehow, I landed on my side, chin tucked, with my arm out. One problem: I had my arm rotated so my elbow “hit” the ground, but my arm was straight so my forearm took the bruising. Now all I’ve got is a nasty bruise and a sore shoulder, but imagine what might have happened had I not been taught how to fall. A broken elbow, maybe (I had a LOT of momentum), or whiplash, or a concussion if I hadn’t tucked my chin.

So, the moral is, take it easy, and learn how to fall.

 

Guilt

How do you deal with guilt from hurting someone during karate? Not only do I think my various injuries this semester (want a list? I love lists: hyperextended right elbow, sprained left ankle, sprained toe, swollen left foot (still don’t know what’s wrong with it), plantar fasciitis, left shoulder strain, whiplash, pulled right calf muscle (and it’s on the verge of pulling again) not to mention all the pieces of skin that my running shoes have ripped off my feet, and all the bruises – I feel like a whiner though because one of the girls ripped a bunch of tendons in her knee last semester – so things could definitely, definitely be worse) have given me cause enough to quit karate, but now I’m finding that whenever I hurt my opponent (to the point that the pain lasts beyond our fight), I feel incredibly guilty.

Case in point – recently I…well, I’m not sure what happened, but I somehow smacked into my friend’s arm, and she ended up with an extremely sore shoulder. And now, after a point-fighting match, my other friend is telling me that her stomach still hurts occasionally, ppbly from the roundhouse I landed there (I told her to go to the health center asap because internal injuries are no fun). Even thinking about it makes me sick that I did those things, but then one part of me says that when you do karate, you have to be prepared to get hurt. And then I went on a guilt management website that recommended thinking of whether or not I’d forgive someone else for doing the same to me, I realized that hell yes, I forgive the guy who got me in a double arm bar that resulted in a whole night of staying up with the pain in my shoulder. Because it was an accident… And these things I did were accidents, too – I didn’t mean it, and I pray to God that it’s nothing serious.

How do you guys deal with guilt? Do you even feel any – is an accident just not worth the effort of being guilty?

(P.S. I’m not quitting karate if I can help it.)

 

Broken toe?

Just what I need.

I got my foot stepped on during karate, stupidity on my part for not reacting, but anyway, now my big toe is purplish. I went to the doctor today and she gave me the impression that it probably wasn’t broken, and since it’s not deformed there’s no need for an X-ray. Plus, the treatment is the same with or without an X-ray, so she buddy-taped it for me.

But, when she buddy-taped it, she didn’t put gauze in-between my toes. I didn’t bother asking her why not, but when I got back to my room I put some cotten in-between because I’d read online that that was important to prevent…stuff… Blisters? Not sure.

And yet, because she forgot (?) to put gauze, I’m starting to wonder whether her diagnosis of “bruised toe” was correct. I’m so pissed because there is no way I’m missing karate for a broken toe. It doesn’t hurt that much… Here’s crossing my fingers that it’s nothing serious.

And to avoid this happening to you, wear foot pads that cover your toes when you spar. I was wearing shin pads with the feet pads attached that DON’T cover your toes. I like these because they’re just one piece and I feel like I have more mobility (and no more fishing through the equipment bag during class only to find foot pads that are way too big), but then I got my toe stepped on. Not fair.

In any case, I don’t have class for another few days, so hopefully all will be well…

Update: Hooray! Apparently, it is not broken. Only sprained, according to me, since the bruise went away. And today, yet again, someone stepped on it in karate. I noticed that she’d stepped on it, but decided to shake it off, but then as soon as she said “Sorry” the pain hit me. Ouch. I’ve been buddy-taping it AND taping it to the rest of my foot to keep it perfectly still, sorta. Because I’m stupid and ran with it, and had a soccer game. And now got stepped on again. I should seriously have bought foot pads. In other news, I blocked a kick, and the guy’s toes hit the back of my arm. Not painful, but from where he hit me down to my fingertips went numb for a few minutes, and stayed tingly for another five minutes. I contemplated stopping the fight but figured I could still move my arm, so… My dad tells me he hit a nerve then, and that probably if he had actually tried to aim at it, he wouldn’t have gotten it. Weird how accidents can be so accurate.

Update2: I got an X-ray recently because my heel was hurting. My toe is definitely not broken, but I do have plantar fasciitis. I think I’d prefer it if my toe were broken…or maybe not… We’ll see…

Btw, if you think you might have plantar fasciitis, see a doctor asap! The longer you wait to treat it, the worse it’ll get. Thankfully, I only had the pain for one week before I saw a doctor, and though it got so bad I couldn’t go to karate this week, I did go back today (and no running for me! just some jogging…) and hopefully if I keep doing the exercises I was advised to do, I’ll get better soon…

 

Random Thoughts/Fights

I’m bored while doing homework, and completely hooked on karate although I’m not practicing my kata as often as I should (hey, the kata is too big to do in my room), or my rolls (hey, the floors are too hard). I daydream about it while I’m reading, which is dumb because I know Buenos Aires didn’t become a “modern” city because of karate…it was because of Paris…

Anyway, even a year after I first started, I still get scared when they tell me we’re going to fight, and I have to breathe to calm myself down. I hate waiting for my turn because it gives me too much time to freak out, but I hate going first because it gives me no time to mentally prepare.

But there’s those fights in which I find serenity. As soon as they start (or at least a few seconds after they start), I get into my groove and enjoy myself, like I did on Saturday, despite taking one to the head (although he did, too). And for my jiu jitsu fight, that was awesome, because I actually started laughing. I knew the guy I was fighting could crush me, and that he was going easy, but it was funny when he tried to roll me out of my full mount and I just sort of stood up to defend against it (which made space, but he didn’t take advantage of it, lucky for me).

But then there’s those fights that I just can’t wait to end. It’s when I’m fighting someone who’s, say, sloppy – so sloppy as to be dangerous to both of us – , or hits really hard. Or is really tall. Tall people are hard to fight, because you have to get in past their kicks to stuff them, but then if you let up for a minute, they can just pull back and nail you anyway. One time I got in to about a foot away from a guy, and he still managed to kick me in the face with a roundhouse – he was that flexible.

And then there’s the fights that destroy me. That’s only happened…err, once, that I can remember. During our last karate promotion, when I had to fight twelve people in a row. I recently found out that I only had 30 seconds with each one, but those were the longest, most horrifying 6 minutes of my life (so far). I pulled a muscle during it, too, partly – I think – because I was wearing shin pads, which may have been too tight, but anyway, after it was over, it was all I could do not to cry. Not because of pain – because of sheer shock. And yet there were those that had it much, much worse – one guy got the wind knocked out of him in the first minute, and – as somone else described it because I didn’t see the fight – was tossed around like a rag doll for the next five minutes. Horrifying…but one of those memories I’m glad I have, and I’m glad we can all look back on it and say, “Whew.” We earned those belts for sure.

Anyway, time to do my Spanish homework. =D

 

“Karate school robbery leaves thief hospitalized”

Check out this article about a guy who tried to rob a karate dojo in Colombia.

Why would someone try to do this? I remember my karate team once went to a jiu jitsu school for our instructor’s promotion to sensei, and someone commented that it would be hilarious if someone tried to rob the place, as there were huge jiu jitsu guys standing around, and us, the young but tough karateka. Not to mention the various black belts.

And yet, someone tried to do it in Colombia. What was going through that would-be robber’s head? Did he think it would be cool to frighten karateka with a gun? Did he think one gun would stand a chance against dozens of people who train to kill? Who knows what his reasoning was, but I hope they interview him later and ask him what it felt like to get his ass handed to him in pieces.