By Rune Larsen, Member until 2010

"Does anyone want to stop?"

Loud silence… Everyone looking into the air as if doing what they can to think about anything but the desire to stop…

"Are you tired?"

Still silence, but the slight nod of the heads signals that it is all about to be. "Alright then, we'll take another bronze circle, but this time I'm good. You now have 6 minutes to complete the three circles. And if someone exceeds by just 1 second, you continue with a silver circle afterwards”.

We have already done two bronze circles in less than 5 minutes, kicked well over 200 kicks and done approx. 500 battles or parades. Our faces are about to be well boiled and our arms and legs heavy. But ok. Get back on the horse and make the cursed bronze circle.

We manage to drive approx. 2/3 of the circles, then we are stopped and asked to speed up our legs so we can practice some kumite. At full blast, mind you…

This was the prelude to the instructor's camp that was to be held just 3 weeks later, and with the closing words: "You have now trained hard for 60 minutes and this is how the entire training camp's Friday will proceed. So just for 3 hours instead”.

Phew... But all right, if those are the conditions, then I have to ride with what I have, as long as there is something in my body and as long as I can lift my arms. It will work out and if everything goes wrong, I guess I won't fall further than the floor my feet are on.

Friday of frustrations

The Friday of this year's instructor summer camp was met with excitement and butterflies in the stomach. After several years of these instructor camps, I naturally knew the basics of a day like this. From 16-19, it was on hard training with nothing but a few short drink breaks. Subsequently, there was to be self-training and theme discussion until 22.

It was expected that the day would be hard and it actually was, but perhaps more in the head than in the body.

My expectations were that it would be a disgustingly hard day, like the one we had been promised, but instead of whipping ourselves back and forth across the floor, doing deadlifts and hard kumite, we were going to have syllabus tests. Syllabus tests on alternative premises, of course. Shiho-nuki and kuzushi without arm techniques, combinations of different shiho (eg tsuki-geri with soto-uke or several kicking techniques) and Shiho enpi with takedown techniques and throws (kata no nage). All combinations of basic techniques that should be pure routine, but turned into a big pile of mess inside the head.

The evening's program was followed by lots of kumite exercises and it was the hard evening I had expected, but more in the head than in the body.

Redemptive Saturday

Saturday morning is the climax of a long graduation process ending with an instructor's camp, which culminates on Saturday around noon with Shiai kumite (free kumite for the graduate who only has spinal technique left in body and head).

I only partially remember the morning's training until the Shiai Kumite. Not because it didn't make an impression, but because I had set myself some very specific goals for this very essential part of the graduation. These goals are my own and represent some of my most important areas of work and are therefore not detailed here, but the fact that I had a smile on my face, albeit somewhat tormented, when the kumite was over testified that it had been a good experience and that I felt that I could tick off my work goals this time.

A big pat on the back

Despite major frustrations both before and during the instructor camp itself, the body felt good (most of it anyway) when the joint training camp for the entire Shindenkan started at 13.30 and when I was "called to a conversation" with Kimu Sensei the feeling had not diminished.

His words of affirmation that he thought I had done a good job and that he was well satisfied with my efforts were sweet music to my ears, and when he could also tell me that he would graduate me SHODEN, Hassei Yakami-ryu and 2nd dan Yakami Shinsei-ryu Karate-do, the hard training and the bruises were forgotten (almost then).

However, I thought about the bruises and the sore fingers, toes and ribs again. Like the sore throat that was the unfortunate result of an inadequate parade, it reminded me that it had indeed been a tough camp. But it was all worth it and I'm ready again for a new one.