As I write this in early September 2024, it is six-and-a-half-years since I restarted aikido practice (at least at a serious / consistent level), but equally 30-years since I first discovered aikido. This multi-part article is in part about my personal journey from one style of aikido to another. It is in part about my personal battle with back problems – and age, and life, in general. It is in part about finding a way to keep training during the COVID pandemic and finding a new life beyond. Most of all, it is an acknowledgement, a show of my appreciation for all that have supported me in my study of the way of aiki.
Find the subsequent articles at https://www.westcumbriaaikido.com/blog/categories/club-news.
Part 1 – In the Beginning
Born in the second half of the 1960s, I spent a good part of the 1970s glued to the TV. The 1970s, as far as UK TV was concerned, was a decade of the Water Margin, Monkey, of David Carradine and Kung Fu, of Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee. It was a decade where James Bond did judo and judo was considered exotic. It was a decade where martial arts were mysterious, exotic, almost magical, but also attainable for those willing to dedicate a good part – if not all – of their life to.
I tried judo as a child. I liked the rolling and when I got home would practice forward rolls on the rug in front of the fire. After a few months I got bored and stopped going – I was short, but I was strong, and comfortable with using strength; it was too easy to throw, pin and choke my training partner. A few years later, in my early teens, I tried karate. The classes were quite aggressive, I didn’t like it and quickly stopped. Over a decade later, in my mid-20s, as a mature student doing a BSc honours degree in the UK Midlands, I joined a ju jitsu club. I trained there for two years (albeit a bit on and off due to numerous rock-climbing trips). I liked the form but found it a quite arrogant environment, which I didn’t like.
My Introduction to Aikido
In September 1994, having moved to Plymouth in the southwest of England to further my academic studies with a Masters degree (and subsequently a PhD), I headed down to the subterranean environment of the Plymouth University Students Union for the ‘freshers week’ sports and activities night. There were stands of the judo, ju jitsu, karate, and kung fu clubs. I diligently went to each stand and talked, pondered, and rejected. I then came to the stand of the University of Plymouth Aikido Club, part of the Exeter based Banyu Hatten Aikido (BHA) association. People were fun, friendly, informative. I had never heard of aikido. The BHA technical director, Geoff Flather Sensei was there supporting the university club recruitment night. We talked at some length, I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that everything sounded so interesting, so intriguing, something that was not just about training the body, but also the mind. I signed up straight away!
A few nights later I attended my first aikido class. I was mesmerised by the grace, the flow, but equally the power. How could people roll, even from a hard throw, and bounce up out of the mat, with such ease? How did ‘unbendable arm’ and ‘unraisable body’ work? I was very intrigued. Plus, it was a big class, 60-plus people, half of which were new starters as well. I very quickly concluded that this was going to be a lot of fun.
In that first class, the teacher – Geoff – kept coming over to me and telling me to stop using strength. I didn’t understand. In the end he stopped the class and called me out to the front and asked that I do a handstand against the wall. Intrigued, I did. He then asked me to do handstand push-ups, effectively full body push-ups. I was in my late twenties and up for the challenge and having been a keen rock climber during my degree in the Midlands, I had a lot of upper body strength. Whether 8, 9 or 10 or more, full body push-ups I forget, but I did as many as I could until I collapsed down to the ground. With my arms and whole upper body trembling and feeling like jelly, and quietly confident that I had shown how strong I was, the class was allowed to resume, and I returned to training with my partner. With no strength left in my upper body I was left to train without further interruption…..
Over the subsequent weeks of the autumn term of 1994 and beyond, I became obsessed with aikido and was eventually training at least 10 hours a week (40 or more hours a month) – 2 hours on a Monday evening and 2 hours on a Wednesday evening, 4 hours on a Saturday morning and 2 hours on a Sunday morning at the university club. I would also go to the sports hall an hour before class and practice my weapons work. At home, prior to gradings I would work through the techniques in a solo form with an imaginary partner. During weekday lunchtimes I would also do circuit training classes, or aerobic step classes, or sometimes both, one after the other. Each month we would head to the ‘Life Centre’, the association permanent dojo in Exeter for a one-day course, then every three-months for a weekend course. The highlight of the year was a weeklong training camp in North Devon.
In July each summer, armed with tents, sleeping bags, weapons and dogis, members from across the BHA town and university clubs in Plymouth and Exeter, from Portishead near Bristol and people from London and Cornwall would converge on a farm in North Devon. Two mat areas would be set up, thin foam mats laid, and each area covered with a large piece of white canvas laced to a wooden frame. We would be on the mat for an hour before breakfast, then later in the morning practicing weapons on the grass and then back on the mat in the afternoon. For yudansha, there were extra classes, for instructors, there was further additional teaching specific training. On the Wednesday afternoon, for those that wanted, there was clay pigeon shooting. One year there was even an activity class to carve your own tanto, and I still have the one I made! Most characteristic of all was the call, whether 1 am, 2 am or 3 am in the morning, of “Everyone up”, it was time for grading. These were mostly kyu grade gradings that could be relatively short compared to dan grade level tests. Getting up was not optional. Everyone in their dogi and on the mat was required. Thankfully we were typically back in our tents in an hour and soon fast asleep.
I was super-active; I was super-fit; I was very happy.
To be continued!
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