On Gaits
5 Sep
I read a post on my pal Cindy’s blog and it triggered some thoughts that I wanted to share. Specifically, besides wanting to draw attention to her kick ass WOD programming (the first half of the post), I wanted to tackle something that was merely an aside in the last quarter or so of the post, regarding practice and an analogy about running and runners.
We can beat the running analogy to death. I strongly believe that in all areas of life (I despise running, but since that was the analogy…) If we don’t learn new gaits or at least examine what we do or why we do it, we miss countless opportunities to learn new ways to do things, learn that some of the things we were doing were – at best – ineffective or – at worst – harmful
When we make this last strategy the one by which we life, we exist in a bubble of our own unjustified certainty in an ocean of knowledge, the pressure of outward ideas and research pressing in on us, causing us to press back with as much force, and in the process expending more energy than we would were we to merely open up and consider new ideas. This is called being willfully ignorant.
We should always try to be open minded and willing to consider new ideas, something completely different than being gullible and adopting every new idea that comes along. In fact, we owe it to ourselves to be that way. Even if we examine all these new gaits, weigh them, measure them, and find them wanting, we’ve still learned something, haven’t we? we’ve learned one or more ways not to gait. But what we haven’t learned is if our gait is the right one. That is why examination and growing is a constant, endless process. Not examining any new gaits means that we’ve not given ourselves a chance to get better.
As I’ve shown above, people DO learn new gaits and benefit from them. What are we to think of people who scoff at those who adopt new gaits, and blithely continue along with their old ones, even in the face of conflicting evidence? In many spheres of life, we call these people irrational, stubborn.
I’m not trying to say that practicing things that aren’t brand new is wrong, I feel the exact opposite (however, I DO believe that one reaches a point of diminishing returns from concentrating on old skills) My point is that it is misguided to demonize someone’s enthusiasm and desire to get better, misguided to discourage people from their search for effective and efficient ways to do so, and insulting to hold the opposite attitude as a virtue.
Yes!
What you so eloquently stated was what I had bubbling around in the back of my mind, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it and try to work out how I felt about the discussion that triggered all this.
It’s taken me years to grow wise enough to figure out that being open-minded is not just about your own self-discovery, either. It’s about being open-minded enough to accept that others must also follow their own passions — passions that may differ from our own.
Cindy,
Thanks for the feedback!
It is important to know that we should be free to follow our own passions and enjoy the benefits that they add to our lives; If one wants to look at a grain of sand and see an entire universe, or look at a single short kata and see an entire lifelong dedication to the study of that single move, I wholeheartedly endorse that. That shouldn’t be mistaken for my saying that I agree with it; I don’t, but there is no argument that a person who did that would have an entirely different experience than mine. Better, worse, I don’t know. I don’t even know what those two words mean in this context.
I just don’t understand how talking about different, complimentary ways of exercise has become an ideological argument. In my mind, Crossfit and related protocols and martial arts training of any sort go together like peanut butter and chocolate. There is something to be learned from everything, whether it be Kung-Fu, Jiu Jitsu, Karate, whatever. What/where is the threat?
What physical skills I have in Kung-Fu are directly attributable not only to Master Joe, but also to my other wonderful instructors that I have had in other martial arts since I was eight years old. The discussion you talked about in your blog post would seem to (chillingly) imply one of two things, both of which I believe are false with all my heart: The first is that all the training I underwent up to to time I joined Shaolin-Do was wasted. That disrespects arts and instructors whom I love with all my heart and always well. The other thing that it implies is that since sticking to the basics is more important than seeking out new knowledge, I never should have joined Shaolin-Do in the first place. I should have stuck with my first art, Tae-Kwon Do. Of course what would either of those two options have done for the depth and breadth of my knowledge? Nothing good.
I am a product of diverse knowledge, teaching, and philosophies, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There seems to be little utility to an attitude that discourages curiosity and wondering exactly how strong or fast or powerful one actually is, in absolute, objective terms, one that engenders a refusal to acknowledge that different forms of training work on and improve different attributes and traits.
There was similar rigmarole when BJJ surfaced in a few of our tournaments; I engaged in the five minutes hate during that time, a fact I’m ashamed of now. Well, guess what? I informally study BJJ a few times a week now, and it works on entirely different skillsets and leverages strengths fostered by both Shaolin-Do and Crossfit. When I first started I did not explode in a gigantic conflagration from a matter/antimatter-esque contact of Shaolin-Do and BJJ, it was fun in a different, new, and novel way.
I can’t help but feel singled out in all of this; During a teachers’ meeting there was a discussion regarding how useless enforcing depth and form on things like push-ups and squats is, that we should just squat and pushup, with everything including differences coming out in the wash. Although I was not called out personally, I know at whom the comment was directed.