Never Run A Dead Kata

NEVER RUN A DEAD KATA

Lessons I Learned In The Dojo

by

Rodney Boyd Ni Dan

Published by WordCrafts Press at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 Rodney Boyd

Cover design & photography by David Warren

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Brenda Sue Boyd, my wife of 40 years, my friend, my companion and the love of my life. She has been with me every step of the journey as I learned these lessons. When I was in my late forties I told her that I was going to start taking karate again when I turned 50 years old. She did not laugh or make fun of me, but encouraged me to go after my dreams. It is also dedicated to my son Phillip Stephen Boyd who has always inspired me to be a better man and father. I love you both.

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FORWARD

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

REI-SPECT

THE BASICS

FOUNDATIONS

PERSEVERANCE

THE PINAN CONNECTION

BREATHE AND RELAX

THE INTENTION

HEAT IT AND BEAT IT

THE ART OF KIAI

SURPRISE, SURPRISE, SURPRISE

MOKUSOU MEDITATION MOMENT

THE ZEN OF ZANSHIN

MORE POWER TO YA

THE ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE

I’VE GOT DEM NO GOOD, LOW DOWN, MAWASHI GERI BLUES

COOKIE DACHI

THE VALUE OF VIRTUES

THE ART OF SELF DEFENSE

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

RESOURCES AND REFERENCES

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

(Thanx And A Tip O’ Da Hat To One And All)

On my karate journey, there have been many people who have planted something different and valuable in me. I realize I will probably leave someone out, but here are just a few of the main players in my life.

To Master Hirinori Otsuka for developing Wado Ryu Karate.

To Sensei Newton Harris, who owned and operated Bushido School of Karate and was my first instructor back in 1973. He took a raw piece of clay and began the molding process. When I tested for my black belt, he came. The man who was with me at the beginning was there for me as I tested for the prize.

To Sensei Bill Herzer who was the next owner of the Bushido School of Karate. He helped me continue on my journey. Then and now he always encourages me to relax.

To Sensei Bill Taylor, the current owner of Bill Taylor’s School of Karate. I met Mr. Taylor back in 1973 when he started karate, and linked back up when I turned 50. He has been and remains a source of encouragement. He pushes me beyond my doubts and stimulates me to keep on keeping on. When I tried the excuse that I was too old to start back taking karate, he told me of a lady who was 72 years old and got her black belt. Then he said, What’s your excuse. When I was on the verge of taking my black belt exam, I momentarily lost the fire. Mr. Taylor relit the passion with one of his patented pep talks.

To Senpai Mike Wilson, who more than once spoke words of encouragement to me when I was on the brink of giving up. It is an honor to count him as a mentor, an example and a friend.

To Sensei Ned Coleman, who instills within me the spirit of Wado. He prepared me for my black belt exam over and over with every class.

To Sensei Lane Wommack, who always pushes me physically and never fails to provide great insight in to the ‘why’ of the movements.

To Sensei John Patterson, who assumed leadership of the United States Eastern Wado Ryu Karate Federation, when his father Sensei Cecil T. Patterson passed away.

To my many instructors over the years, Mr. Joe Maxwell, Ms. Karen Wilson, Mr. Dean Cordell, Mr. Steve Holt and Mr. Mike Arnold, and to my fellow karatekas who moved up and down the floor with me. Thanx, and a Tip O’ Da Hat to one and all.

FORWARD

With The Forward

"Never run a dead kata."

- Master Hirinori Otsuka

The statement, "never run a dead kata," was made by the man who developed the style of karate that I practice - Wado Ryu. Wado Ryu is the study of the way of peace/harmony. It breaks down like this, Wa (peace/harmony) Do (way) Ryu (style).

My quest for my black belt was a long and convoluted path. The dojo is considered to be the school as a whole, but it is more than the school. It is the workout area where you bow, step on the mats and begin the process of learning not only the physical aspects of karate - but the code of karate or the heartbeat of karate. Before we get into the lessons I learned in the dojo, I believe that it would be a good idea to let you know how I arrived at October 29, 2007, the day I earned my 1st Degree Black Belt.

Part of the process involved writing a paper entitled What Earning a Black Belt Means to Me. I’m sharing it here to give you an overview of my journey.

What Earning A Black Belt Means To Me

- Rodney Boyd Ik Kyu

To understand what earning a black belt means to me, you must understand the beginning of my journey. The roots of my desire to earn a black belt extends back to the mid-1960s. My first exposure to the martial arts was through a movie (actually a series of eight movies) starring Peter Lorre as a character named Mr. Moto. Mr. Moto was a Charlie Chan-type detective. He was small, unimposing, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a white suit. The difference between him and Charlie Chan was that he would not only use his detective smarts to solve a crime, but he would use ju jitsu against the bad guys. I was amazed at how this little; unimposing man was able to beat the bad guys, without shooting them, but by merely throwing them around. The size ratio did not compute, but the seeds of martial arts were planted deep in me.

My first physical encounter using martial arts was in the 6th grade (around 1963), and was based on what I saw in the Mr. Moto movies. I was not trained in the martial arts and I was definitely not physically up to the task. I was a scrawny, skinny, proverbial 98-pound weakling. I was standing in a hallway outside of the gymnasium at Mitchell-Neilson Elementary School when a larger student started picking on me. He was kidding around and I did not feel threatened at the time, but all of a sudden, I found myself grabbing this large, imposing person by his arm. I twisted my hips and threw him over my shoulder, or more likely my hips.

Everyone was surprised at what happened - including the people around me and the guy I threw over my shoulder - but nobody was more surprised than me. I had merely imitated what I saw in a movie on late night television. From that moment on I was fascinated with the martial arts. From 1963 to 1972, I would read karate books by Bruce Tegner and watch Elvis give somebody a karate chop in the movies. I even played around with my friends, as we flipped each other around in my backyard. But for some reason, I never cultivated that desire until 1972, when a fateful event rekindled my desire for a black belt.

1972 was an eventful year for me. I got married (and am still married to the same woman after 40 years), had a steady job and I got beat up on the side of the road in front of God, all my co-workers and the rest of the world passing by that day.

Another event in 1972 was an advertisement in the Daily News Journal for a karate class that was forming in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The ad was little larger than a postage stamp, but it caught my eye. The cost of the class was $15 a month and was being taught by a man I knew, Mr. Newton Harris. After my encounter with my Goliath, I figured I needed to learn how to defend myself.

Our first class met in the basement of Crichlow Elementary School, and later moved to a dojo on Vine Street. The school was the Bushido School of Karate; the style was Wado Ryu.

At that time the climate for karate was hot. On television, Batman and Robin were kicking and punching the bad guys (Burt Ward, the actor who played Robin had a black belt in real life). In the movie Billy Jack, Billy was taking his left foot and placing it on the right side of Mr. Posner’s face, while telling Posner that there was not a damn thing that he could do about it. On the radio, Carl Douglas was singing that everybody was Kung Fu fighting, their fists were fast as lightning. Kung Fu was a hit T.V. show and Bruce Lee was making a name for himself as Kato on The Green Hornet and the TV show Longstreet (teaching blind lawyer James Franciscus martial arts). The chop suey movies were all the rage.

I signed up for karate along with a few friends and we had a ball. We practiced kata together, stretched every chance we got, and worked out at the dojo four times a week. The classes went on for two to three hours. It was hot, sweaty, tiring and fun!

I was young, semi-flexible and eager to learn. I would not be a punching bag for some redneck on the side of the road again. At that time my motivation for wanting to be a Black Belt was self-preservation and fear. I climbed up through the ranks to the point of being ready to test for my green belt, but through a series of circumstances, I dropped out. Money, time, desire - all fizzled out.

For the next few decades, my desire to get my black belt would ebb and flow. I’d watch karate movies, going over in my mind the things that I had learned, but I never could get back into it. Mr. Harris eventually sold the school to Mr. Bill Herzer. It would be 30 years before I set foot into a dojo again.

I told my wife Brenda and my son Phillip that when I turned 50, I would return to karate. My goal was to have my black belt by the time I was 55 years old. I made that declaration while I was in my forties. I am currently in my sixties and still kicking.

When I was 48 years old, I took Phillip to a Wado Tournament in Columbia, Tennessee, and told him that I would someday be down there on the gym floor competing. Three years later, I was.

In September, 2001, I ran into Mr. Bill Taylor at Quiznos restaurant. Mr. Taylor now owned Bill Taylor’s Bushido School of Karate. Brenda was with me as I introduced myself to him and told him that I was thinking about starting karate again. I told him my story, but confessed I thought I might be too old to start back again.

A 70 year-old woman at the school just earned her black belt, he told me. What’s your excuse?

That lady was Ms. Betty Coleman, who continues to