Hello everyone,
I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the summer.
Today I'd like to share some personal thoughts—and frustrations—about kendo. I apologize in advance if this turns into a bit of a rant, but I feel I need to get it off my chest.
I have a very simple philosophy when it comes to kendo:
"Wherever you go, adapt to the environment."
Whether I'm attending a seminar or visiting another dojo, my goal is always the same: blend in, do my best, and enjoy the experience.
Because, in my opinion, if you're not enjoying yourself, there's very little point in being there. When we're enjoying practice, we naturally focus on what we're doing. At the end of the day, we go home mentally tired but happy, and physically satisfied because we've genuinely worked hard.
My own dojo is only a six-minute drive from my home. I've never had to walk or run to get there. However, our training sessions are much shorter than those at many other clubs.
If four or more people attend, we can train for an hour and a half. If fewer people show up, we're limited to just one hour because the hall we rent is quite expensive.
For that reason, I don't like wasting time chatting during practice. I also don't like spending too much time on group warm-up exercises because they take up valuable training time. I usually give everyone no more than five minutes to warm up on their own. After that, we begin together with suburi and try to keep the rest of the session moving at a good pace.
Most of the people who come to my dojo actually live in other cities. As strange as it may sound, one of our members even travels from Wales.
Knowing that people have made such an effort to get there, I don't feel comfortable spending class time telling stories or talking about my own kendo experiences. If anyone wants to chat after practice, my door is always open.
So why am I writing all of this?
Last Sunday, I drove for an hour to visit another dojo. During the journey I kept thinking about what I wanted to focus on, which technical mistakes I needed to correct, and how I could improve my kendo.
I genuinely like the instructor at that dojo. He has very solid kendo, a strong kamae, and I would say he's mentally very sharp as well.
Recently, however, I've noticed that his classes have changed quite a bit. In the past they were much more dynamic—excellent both for physical conditioning and technical development. You had the opportunity to practise a wide variety of techniques.
Anyway, the class started with about twenty minutes of kata, followed by group warm-up exercises and suburi.
I'd like to make a small point here. In my opinion, if you've already started the class with kata, then additional warm-up exercises and suburi are no longer essential. Your muscles are already warm from practising kata. If you're particularly enthusiastic, by all means continue with suburi afterwards—but I don't think separate warm-up exercises are necessary.
By this point, around 40 to 45 minutes had already passed. We then moved on to basic footwork and cutting drills, which took another 20 to 25 minutes. After a short break, we finally put on our men. When I looked at the clock, there were only about 40 to 45 minutes left.
Of course, once we had our men on, we practised kirikaeshi, men strikes, and some basic kihon. But it all ended so quickly that I was genuinely surprised. At the end of class, mawari-geiko or jigeiko doesn't have to be included every single time. However, it seemed that the goal was to finish everything as quickly as possible just to make room for it.
Personally, I don't see the point of adding jigeiko at the end of a class if we haven't spent enough time practising kihon properly. To me, the fundamental purpose of kendo practice is to make the kendo we're performing today a little closer to the ideal kendo we aspire to achieve.
