One year ago I was maxing out my training in preparation for the biggest fight of my career. The event itself was delightfully worth the preparation that it took, but it was the training season that set the stage and that raised the bar for me. I made a few attempts at journaling on those long days- logging hours in contact with other bodies, notes and short video studies on my training partners, alternating workouts and runs, making weight, insights from my meditations… It’s a hard article to write because I’d rather be logging the hours right now than sitting at my computer- so I’ll compromise and stand.
I feel that I owe it to my students to actively engage in research and development in the field. In other words- to be “still undefeated” in my division, I have to seek out my challengers. I am grateful to be teaching more, and to have work that I can count into my training time now. Four days a week working with performing arts undergraduates is my favorite addition, since they are naturally competitive from the start. The curriculum design has also been an opportunity to digest and organize the wealth of knowledge I collected during my journey to the World Champion title. My perinatal fitness clients also give me an opportunity for training stability and mobility from the core. This training season also looks a little different due to time and funding constraints and if you’re a parent of small children you might get the picture- I won’t let my daughter near competitive push hands for a few more years until she has more self control. I have to be ready to make the most of stolen time, and when I get the chance to train I look back on my peak training experiences and draw on them.
The one that comes to me most often- where the movie training montage in my mind begins- was a solo interval sprint on the trail where my family hikes every week. Two minutes uphill, one minute recovery, for about 40 minutes to the top. These are approximately the intervals of rounds played, building the power and stamina required for moving step push hands. The recovery walk in the woods became a moment to spontaneously process physically- I’d mark hand drills with tree branches, practice animal walking balancing on logs, enter a yoga posture and find a headstand. This year, I’ve been doing the uphill with 40+ pounds on my back, while pretending to be a fairy witch with my daughter.
The ideal training season would allocate four hours to push hands a day. This number comes from my coach’s coach, insisting that any less than that, and “you can only be a tourist in this lifetime.” At least two hours of that time would be at the tournament level- quick draw, on the mats, with the most experienced training partners. This would be in addition to the cross training required to enter competition in peak physical condition.
The movie montage would cut from the trail to the dojo mat, to the skate park asphalt- me being thrown by guys twice my size, then me holding my ground, then the breakdown of techniques, and my surprise when they worked. Some of these were done virtually from across the country too. My coach and I reflected and talked about training and competition strategy daily. This year, I’m getting more hours of partner work in the Aikido dojo, and find the ukemi practice essential to be prepared for moving step on the mats. Now that I think of it though, I haven’t even worn my wrestling shoes once since last October. Other scenes include the gym and my in home zoom studio- holding the horse stance, mastering kettlebell basics, Sinew Meridian Qi Gong, kickboxing, sparring and heavy bag training. I worked with a personal trainer for the last couple of months as I dropped fifteen pounds. I’m dropping weight again this year- cutting any unnecessary calories, running, and staying hydrated all contribute to my sense of mental focus and concentration on my goal.
Tai Chi players sometimes call each other “strong” as an insult, implying a reliance on brute force over technique. If I didn’t train for strength and endurance I would undermine push hands as an athletic sport. Athletes do not just put their faith in skill and trust in technique, they develop it with practice, sweat, and the tears that come when your mental stamina has reached a new edge. I also log the hours training for softness. My coach often remarks how I came out of the pandemic, pregnancy, and childbirth a more skilled player. During this time I also was not able to hit the mats with opponents, and instead what I practiced was sensitivity. We call it “Hemophilia,” “4 ounces,” or “Feathertouch.” You learn to get any weight off of you and direct that weight off balance. Played properly, differences in size and strength won’t make much difference, and training can continue even if injuries need time to heal or if there isn’t time to warm up.
I want to compete again. For years I had a shirt from my alma matter Sarah Lawrence College that said on the back: STILL UNDEFEATED. On the front it said football, and of course we never had a football team, which made a hilarious joke. Rather than become a joke, I am committed to putting my practice to the test. Since Taiwan happens only every other year I’m throwing my hat in to a couple of new international venues. It turns out there is a yawning gap between training as if I had a tournament coming up and training because I am going to compete in a matter of weeks. I wonder if one day being registered and have my competitor number lined up will no longer be necessary, but for now it motivates me. This year I’ve had to be even more self directed, testing what I learned last year.
Last year I ran an official Make A Champ campaign to raise funds for travel. While I won’t this year, I will still be grateful for contributions and sponsorship of all sizes, check out the 15 Goals page for links to contribute. It’s also really motivating to hear from my readers. Thank you!
From my heart,
Ilona
PS: On OCT 5, 2024 I won double golds in Boston: WFMAF World Open Martial Arts Championship.
Push Hands Now 