I spent the first week of October on a data detox. No emails, no whatsapp, no socialz, no scrolling. It’s been a lovely mental break. My initial reason for trying this was to allow my inner visionary to be heard, as per this post.
The single biggest surprise is how little I missed it. I was really looking forward to it, and enjoyed the lack of distraction very much indeed. Days one and two were very relaxing. For reasons I can’t pin down, but which may be related to withdrawal, I was grumpy as hell for days three and four. Oddly though I didn’t have any urge to get online, so I don’t think it was withdrawal exactly. Then things perked up immensely on days 5-7, and I got a bunch of things done that I’ve been meaning to get round to. More on that below.
So what filled the void created by the data detox? That gaping chasm of boredom and ennui that our marvellous machines cover up with clicks and scrolling?
1. I’ve thought a lot. It’s actually nice to be back in my own head a bit more.
2. I’ve did a lot more actual sword practice, in addition to my usual physio/fitness/strength stuff.
3. Coincidentally (I think, because these were planned ages ago) I went to the actual theatre, and met friends for lunch in the pub (yes I’m still off booze, 50 more days to go), and been to a talk (given by Roland Allen, of The Sword Guy and A History of Thinking on Paper fame). All analogue, real people in a room together, offline goodness.
I should point out that I was not religious about this. I used my wife’s laptop to print out crosswords, and fired up my phone to be able to navigate to drop off my daughter at a friend’s house for a party (I don’t have a paper map of the area, which I should!). But outside some very sensible exceptions, I’ve kept the phone turned off, and did not check any messaging apps or email when I did turn it on. The computer was not turned on at all.
I finished making my mum’s birthday present, put a new base on my pell so it stops falling over when it’s windy (see the photo above), and rearranged my study such that I could get my point control wall target up (it needs a sturdy wall to hang on, and room in front and to the sides for footwork).
I also planned a new launch, thought about the overall structure of my business, and got a bunch of CEO stuff done. I don’t think my visionary woke up particularly, so I need to think about how to make that happen.
One of the things I’ve been thinking about is how we have all sorts of social rules and norms around other addictive behaviours, such as drinking and smoking. If someone offered you a glass of wine at 11am you might say “it’s a bit early for me”. Because these days it’s normal to avoid drinking during the day. Likewise smoking. It used to be everywhere, all the time. But now it would be very very rude to light up inside someone’s home without asking, and most smokers would automatically go outside.
But watch any TV show from the 80s and just about every rich person is having a drink at 10am, and everyone rich or poor is smoking indoors at all hours. These healthier rules around smoking and drinking are relatively new, and relatively unconnected with legislation.
I do well with rules if they’re my own. (I do much less well with other people’s rules.) Both phones and computers are incredibly useful. But they are inherently built for distraction. So here are my rules for using my computer and my phone.
Rules for the Computer
1. Be a cat. I’ve borrowed this from Jaron Lanier’s excellent 10 Arguments for Deleting All Your Social Media Accounts Right Now. Cats don’t try to please people. They just pursue their own agenda, and allow the people in their life to serve their needs. If a cat wants stroking, you’ll know. The computer belongs to me. It’s a critically important tool for writing books, editing video, running my business, and communicating with people.
But it’s been warped by the internet into also being a major source of distraction. So I will approach my computer the way a cat approaches the humans that feed it. I’ve always had all notifications turned the hell off, but that doesn’t stop me from getting distracted.
2. Decide what I want to do before waking it up. That could be work on the next book, or some critical business task like paying a freelancer, or emailing someone about something. Then do that thing first. After my week away I have a long list of things to do, including drafting this blog post, that comes ahead of checking my emails. Happy to report I’m following my own rules.
3. Unless I have a good reason, don’t open any communications app before 2pm. Exceptions include scheduled zoom sessions (running a trainalong or doing crosswords with my mum are both good reasons), or if I’m expecting a time-critical message about something actually important.
4. Turn off all comms apps at or before 5pm. Exceptions as per rule 3. And take at least one full day per week off all comms. I think probably Thursdays, which I generally keep free anyway.
5. Be a cat. It’s worth an extra rule to be reminded of the first one.
What do I want my Fondleslab Distraction Engine (aka “phone”) for?
There are many excellent things about the phone that I want to keep, that I missed during the data detox. In no particular order they are:
Camera
Podcast player
Music player
Sound recorder (when recording videos etc.)
Maps/navigation
Payments
Wallet for tickets, boarding passes, etc.
Calendar
The Sword People app for keeping in touch with my sword people and posting sword photos
Calculator
Notes app for when I don’t have a notebook or pen with me. Rare, but it happens.
StrengthLog app for tracking weights workouts
Family Whatsapp channel. I’d like to move it to Signal, but I don’t think we’d get everyone on board with it (my siblings, their kids, my kids, it’s actually quite a lot of people).
Some friends prefer Signal, so I have that for talking with them.
One dear friend, and my godson only really use Discord, so I have that too.
But other than those excellent things, why would I want to be continually distracted?
Rules for the Fondleslab Distraction Engine
1. Be a really fucking grumpy cat.
2. Delete all addictive apps. No games, nothing that makes me likely to scroll (Ebay, Vinted, Chrono24, etc.). No emails. I have the accounts still there in the system settings, but I’ve turned off the email function. That way if I need to be able to check email on my phone for some reason, it’s easy to turn back on, but it’s not on by default.
3. Turn off all notifications. All of them. Especially badges (those red things that flag the app's icon). I’ll check the apps when I want to. The phone still rings if you call me, but that’s it.
4. WhatsApp, Messenger, etc. are strictly friends and family only. I have SwordPeople for work-related messaging. (Feel free to sign up there if you want to be able to message me outside email.)
5. Switch off the phone completely for at least one full day per week. So e.g. turn it off in the evening, and not turn it on until the morning of the day after next.
Final Thoughts on the Data Detox
I’m also thinking about getting a new phone number, and relegating the current one to a no-data phone, so I can use it for two-factor authentication, and as my “business” number, and keep my other number entirely private, so only people I’ve actually given it to will have it. My current number is clearly on too many databases, given the number of spam calls and texts I get.
I’m not alone in fighting this fight. Useful resources are the aforementioned Jaron Lanier’s 10 Arguments. Also Cal Newport’s Deep Work, and for non-algo-poisoned tech solutions, the Creative Good forum has all sorts of options and suggestions. Once you have all this distraction-free time you'll need to learn to prioritise, so you may find my post about deciding what to focus on helpful.
It's worth explicitly stating that I welcome emails from my students, readers, friends, family, and even some newsletters and other things. Email isn't the problem. It's letting it spill out of a confined space to take over my brain that’s the problem. The same is true for messaging apps generally. I've broken the cycle of reflexively checking for anything new coming in with my seven days off, so now I need to keep that cycle broken. Or I'll end up having a (metaphorical) whisky and a cigarette for breakfast again.
I was in London a couple of weeks ago for a family reunion, and took the opportunity to wiggle along for another DEXA scan (at BodyScan UK). My last was a year ago. On the positive side, I’ve put on about 2.4kg of ‘lean mass’ (the scan can identify fat, bone, and ‘lean mass’, which is everything that isn't fat or bone), mostly in the upper torso. And my overall fat percentage has come down from 24.8% in May 2024, to 21.5% now. Great.
But my genetics put the remaining fat mostly in my viscera, the absolutely worst place to have it. I had 148
cm² (which is a weird way to measure a volume, but hey) in May '24, down to 115cm² in August '24, but as the muscle piled on (yay!) it brought some fat with it (as it almost always does), and it all went round my organs, so it's back up to 136cm². Boo.
Subcutaneous fat isn’t such a big health problem, in reasonable amounts. But visceral fat is bad for inflammation, blood lipids, diabetes risk, the works. And it seems that’s where I store it.
I’m not a big believer in calorie restriction as the main driver of fat loss, because while the laws of thermodynamics are absolute, your body is insanely complicated, and has all sorts of ways of adjusting your metabolism to lose or put on weight depending on various triggers. What you eat, and when, is as important as how much. And don't get me started on gut biome. I first really understood this when I accidentally lost 10kg in three weeks. But if there are a bunch of unnecessary calories coming in from somewhere, that's the obvious place to start.
For me the biggest source by far of “empty” calories is alcohol. My natural state is to have a glass of wine or two while cooking, and another glass or three while having dinner, and maybe a dram afterwards, pretty much every day. I normally get through about 7 bottles of wine a week minimum, without hangovers or other obvious ill effects. I think my soul is mostly Italian!
When I went alcohol-free for a month this Spring (thanks to a bad cholesterol test), I lost about 2kg and 4cm around my waist. It messed with other things though- I didn’t get a word written in all that time, other than newsletters. And I didn’t feel any particular energy benefits. Though I ought to have been sleeping better, I wasn’t waking up full of beans and ready to face the day any more so than usual.
But, several credible sources (the folk I listen to most on these subjects are Dr. Peter Attia, and Dr. Rhonda Patrick) suggest that the real benefits to cutting booze come around the three month mark. Kevin at BodyScan said the same thing. So I’ve decided to take 100 days off alcohol. I started on August 19th. Day 100 is November 26th, four days before my birthday.
Why not just cut back?
It's very hard to measure a small amount every now and then. Sure, I bet I could get most of the benefits if I just had one glass of wine on a Friday night. I've previously established with sleep monitors that a glass of wine with dinner has no measurable effect on my sleep (I eat early). But then what happens to the rest of the bottle? How much wine is that really? What if I swapped out the wine for a dram of Lagavulin? It's just much easier to measure “no booze” than figure out “some booze”. And from a self-control issue, it takes very little effort (for me) to have decided to not drink at all, than to stop at one. The hard part is making the decision to stop. Now that's done, thanks to bastard DEXA, it's really no big deal (for me).
I know that other people have much more serious issues with alcoholism or other addictions, so please don't read this as minimising their struggles. And I can think of several life events that could occur that would lead to me immediately abandoning this experiment in favour of getting blootered. So no judgement.
The Pros and Cons of alcohol restriction
You may find the pro/con analysis I do for any intervention a useful rule of thumb, so here goes.
Cons first (always):
1. Is there any known, or likely, health downside? If someone were to suggest going without vegetables for 100 days, or going without protein, or going without exercise, or without in-person social interaction, I’d want to see an awful lot of peer-reviewed studies suggesting that it was a good idea. But there is no known health benefit (that actually stands up to scrutiny) of consuming alcohol. So I won’t be sacrificing any useful nutrients. The polyphenols in wine? I get way more of them from blueberries and dark chocolate.
2. The most common downsides of any intervention are time and money. Exercise costs time. Supplements cost money. Cutting out alcohol saves money and takes no time.
3. Alcohol has been a major component of Western culture since at ancient times. The slaves that built the pyramids were fed a kind of beer. 2600 years later Jesus's first miracle was turning water into wine. 2000 years on, not much has changed. Just about every major event is marked with booze of some kind. We drink with friends, we drink to celebrate success, to commiserate in disaster, to raise a toast or to drown a sorrow. Wine, beer, spirits of every kind have been part of our culture (and many others) since forever, and there is a huge amount of artistry that goes into creating a perfect wine to go with your steak, or the smokiest of single malts. That's the only thing that makes this in any way difficult: the sheer number of times already (it's been less than a fortnight!) when I've had to risk being thought anti-social to decline an offered drink. People who like to drink (like me!) can take this as a critique of their current habits. Nothing could be further from the truth. But cutting out alcohol does carry a social risk.
I worked out that the last time I went 100 days with no booze I was 13. It’s been nearly 40 years since I last tried this, and it’s just an experiment, not a moral position.
So the worst-case scenario is I get no noticeable benefit (but save some money), and lose out on some gustatory delight, and some people will find me stand-offish. I can live with that, for SCIENCE. I don't judge other people by what they choose to drink, so have no interest in the judgements of those that do.
Pros:
1. There is good reason to suppose that I’ll cut the visceral fat down, because it’s happened before (between my first two DEXA scans, in May and August 2024 which established a clear correlation between waist size and visceral fat quantity), and because of the waist reduction this year, in just 33 days of no alcohol.
2. There ought to be improvements in sleep quality. This is very hard to measure, and regular readers will know that I’ve tried several different sleep trackers and found problems with all of them. The only metric that seems at all reliable is heart rate. With alcohol, my heart rate is higher and more erratic when sleeping; without it, it’s lower and steadier. I've confirmed this many times since getting my first sleep tracker in 2017.
3. It’s a clear break from a habit I know is not healthy, and a fairer test of sobriety. I wouldn’t necessarily judge the effects of a diet or exercise program after just a month, so it seems reasonable to give no booze a fair crack of the whip.
The best case scenario is that I get amazing health and vitality benefits from this. But that will raise the issue of do I go back or not? I’ll have to entirely re-think the place that alcohol plays in my way of life. So I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of hoping that it doesn’t help much.
It’s important to keep any test to just one variable. If I replaced booze with doughnuts I could reasonably expect to not lose any visceral fat. So I’m giving myself a couple of weeks to let my usual dietary rules slip a bit (I had four slices of my daughter’s banana bread after dinner last Sunday, with marmalade) but once I’m back from Swords of the Renaissance this weekend I’ll be pretty careful about keeping the rest of my diet as it was.
And finally…
I intend to report back here (maybe even with another DEXA scan) in due course. But I keep my friends on Sword People, and my newsletter subscribers updated on all sorts of things, including my various health experiments. Join us there, or sign up for the newsletter (or both!).
And let me just re-iterate: I'm running a health experiment. I have no moral problem with alcohol, and I don't think of myself as an alcoholic. If alcohol is damaging your health, or getting in the way of your goals, feel free to try 100 days off, or better yet get professional help. But it says nothing about your moral worth whether you drink or not.
Update at 50 Days
50 days into this experiment: so far, so good. The hard part was making the decision. Once it was decided, not drinking is normal. There are open bottles of booze in the house, but no temptation. Every now and then I fancy a drink, but the urge passes quickly. This was as true on day 1 as it is on day 50.
The closest thing to an exception has been a couple of social events in pubs, where I had a low-alcohol (0.5% or lower ABV) beer. I’ve done that twice. I don’t think it matters particularly, but I’ve decided to be careful in the last 50 days to stay off even that.
My weight is down about a kilo and a half (3.5lb), and my waist is down about 2cm. These are averages: weight fluctuates a lot during the day and from day to day: have a glass of water and you gain half a pound or so. Eat more fibre the day before and there’s more water held in your gut. So I measure weight and waist every day, and average them up over the week. Waist is especially problematic to measure, as it’s me with a tape measure, trying to be consistent about exactly where on my body I’m putting it, and exactly how tight, at what point in my breathing cycle. Sucking in my gut gets me down to 84, expanding as much as possible gets me to 96 (which is significantly smaller than my relaxed measurement in May 2024). So I’m not treating these figures as hard or accurate, but they are a reasonable guide to progress.
The oddest thing about this is that all of the weight and waist gains occurred in the first 25 days; they have been basically stable since then. Though I suppose it’s possible I’ve been losing fat and gaining muscle (or the other way round) since then. My weight training is the most reliable guide to muscle mass until the next DEXA scan, and I’m getting gradually stronger (as one would expect), so I doubt I’m losing significant muscle mass. I’m also careful to keep my protein intake quite high (about 1.5g/1kg of body mass, so about 120g/day for me).
I’m not sure if I’m sleeping better or not. I don’t wake up feeling any more rested than I did before, but I have several times slept a lot longer than I used to, for no apparent reason. I’m hoping that my brain is adapting to the lack of booze and getting better at staying asleep, but it’s too early to tell. Sleeping longer means I’m waking up later, so my usual habit of getting an hour or so of writing in before the house wakes up isn’t happening, but that’s ok; I seem to be productive enough.
On balance, this has been underwhelming in terms of health gains so far. I was expecting significantly more benefits already, given that I’ve come down from drinking an average of a whole bottle of wine every day. But who knows, maybe the next 50 days will hold some surprises.
This experiment is an example of my overall guiding principle of training: figure out what works for you, then do that. Both of those aspects are challenging: how do you figure out what works for you? And how do you maintain the practice of applying it? I go over all these things and more in The Principles and Practices of Solo Training.
You may recall that my recent trip to Mexico blew me away. What a country, what people.
And yes, what food.
I’ve had lots of “Mexican” food before: some awesome, some so-so. But nothing prepared me for the breadth and depth of the Mexican food experience. I ate everywhere from people’s homes, to roadside shacks, to decent restaurants, and it was all excellent. I’ll kick off this post with some basic traveller advice on not getting sick while travelling to such places, then just go through the dishes I experienced in order. With photos!
1. Do not drink the tap water. At all, ever. I’d recommend brushing your teeth in filtered water, and hold a mouthful of filtered water in your mouth when having a shower, to prevent you accidentally swallowing anything. Spit it out when you’re done in the shower.
2. Suero. This is a mix of rehydration salts that you can get at any pharmacy. Mix a packet in with a litre of filtered water to rehydrate if you do get sick. Throw away any undrunk mixture after 24 hours.
3. Probiotics. Much of the intestinal distress associated with travelling to Mexico comes from a fight between your existing gut biome, and the bacteria you’re exposed to while you’re there. They are not friends, and those Mexicans fight dirty. So start taking probiotics before you go, and keep taking them while you’re there, whether you feel well or not. I’m quite impressed with the Enterogermina ampoules that I got in Mexico, and with the Probio 7 50+ that I got when I got home.
This is just a glass of mineral water, with lime juice, and salt around the rim of the glass. Putting the salt round the glass like that means you can take as much or as little of it as you want/need. And the lime juice is great for vitamin C and digestion. Honestly, why drink plain water ever again? It's available just about everywhere, and superb for keeping you hydrated- much better than plain water would be. I failed to take a photo of it, sorry.
Enmoladas
My first meal in Mexico was breakfast enmoladas. These were stunningly good. They look like a dessert, but they’re not. They are tortillas stuffed with chicken, in a mole, which is based on cocoa, but is not what most people think of as chocolate. It’s a bit spicy, a bit savoury, a bit umami, a thousand percent delicious. This was served with coffee and carrot juice.
Pozole
This is a traditional Aztec dish, a kind of spicy stew. They have changed one major ingredient though. It used to be made with the flesh of your enemies, but is now made with pork. It’s one of those classic dishes which get fought over- which part of Mexico has the best pozole? I couldn’t possibly say- I had it a couple of times, and they were differently fabulous. Pairs well with a dark Modelo.
Chile en Nogada
This dish is only available for a short time each year, which happens to coincide with Mexican independence day (September 16th). The red, white, and green of the dish represent the colours on the Mexican flag. The large poblano chile is stuffed with meat and fruit, and covered in the white walnut sauce. It’s another somewhat sweet, somewhat umami, utterly divine dish.
Elote
Mexican cuisine is based on corn the way European cuisine is based on wheat. It’s everywhere, and sometimes it’s just on its own, boiled or grilled over charcoal from a roadside cart, late at night, with friends. I had the version with chilli powder and lime. My lips stung for ages, but it was totally worth it.
Barbacoa
This is not barbecue, as in meat grilled over charcoal or smoked. This is meat that it soft and juicy and tender from being roasted in a pit in the ground, much like a Hawaian imu. You can also do it in the oven. I failed to take a picture because I was too busy eating it.
Tetelas con chapulines
This is a Oaxacan delicacy. A tetela is a triangular folded tortilla, stuffed with food. In this case, crickets. They are slightly spicy, quite umami, and delicious. I also had tetelas stuffed with tasajo (a kind of dried meat), and huitlacoche, which is a mushroom that only grows on corn.
I didn’t take pictures of the quesadillas con carnitas, nor the rose-petal flavoured ice-cream. Nor so many other culinary delights. And, let the record state, the only time I did actually get sick was after eating at a place that specialised in American-style food (it was open and close by, no other reason to go there).
It’s funny to think that Mexican food outside Mexico is mostly tacos and burritos. Which is like Italian food outside Italy being mostly pizza and pasta. Yes, there’s a lot of both in Italy, but they are just the tip of a gastronomic iceberg. Just so with Mexico. While there is a lot of pork involved, there is also a huge tradition of vegetarian food (such as the tetelas con huitlacoche). And yes there’s a lot of corn there too, but not in the chiles en nogada.
It's the beginning of “Mental Health Week”, so I thought I'd share the chapter “Mental Health” from The Principles and Practices of Solo Training. This comes after a chapter on visualising your mental model for training as a tree, with mental health as the roots, physical health as the trunk, and specific attributes as the branches, and is followed by a similar overview of physical health, before we delve into the details of goal setting, how to practice, etc. I am currently working on the audiobook version of The Windsor Method, and have attached the audio for this chapter here, in case it's better for your mental health to listen rather than read. Just click the play button:
Mental Health
Mental health is the foundation of all your training. If you’re too depressed to get out of bed, or too anxious to concentrate on your striking drills, it will be very hard to train effectively. I’m not a psychiatrist, and if you are struggling I hope you will get professional help. I did, and it works, or at least it worked for me.
If we were talking about physical health, you would agree that there are many things you can do to improve your general likelihood of avoiding disease and injury. Don’t smoke. Eat healthily. Exercise regularly. I think it’s the same for mental health. There are things you can do that will reduce the severity of mental health issues if they arise, or even avoid them altogether. But there are no guarantees, and all interventions carry some risk.
Meditation can reprogramme your inner voice, can reduce depression and other conditions. It can teach you how to control where your attention goes. But it can also make things worse, depending on how you do it and what you focus on.
Breathing exercises are particularly effective at reducing stress levels, and inducing a feeling of well-being. They are excellent for bridging the gap between conscious control and autonomic processes. But they can be frustratingly slow to work and don’t work for everything.
Exercise is a great mood enhancer, and is a simple way to boost endorphin levels which help with mood. But it comes with a risk of injury.
Spending time doing things you actively enjoy (like swinging swords?) is good too – and swinging swords can include meditative, breathing, and exercise components that are a feel-good triple-whammy. But everyone who has trained for any length of time knows that you can have bad training days. Understanding the foundations of mental health will help you figure out why. As I see it, they are:
1. Agency. A sense of control over your life and its direction. In many ways practising weapons drills is an externalised form of this. See! I can control this blade – I am in control. Control is always an illusion (you could drop dead at any moment), but it’s a very useful and necessary one.
2. Meaning. If you feel your life means something, you can tolerate a great deal more stress. Sacrifices you make for a greater good are much more bearable than those that are just taken from you.
3. Connection. We are social animals, and a great deal of our sense of meaning comes from the impact we have on those around us and our connections to them. The pandemic has highlighted this to an extreme degree. We need each other, and we need others to see that our existence has meaning. Believing that nobody would care if you disappeared is perhaps the worst feeling a person can have.
4. Sleep. The one natural process that is most key to your health and wellbeing. It only takes one bad night’s sleep to ruin your day. Sleep is a process and a skill, so I’ll discuss it separately from the other three branches, in Part 2: Practices.
Agency is the feeling of being in control.
It’s often reasonable to be upset, depressed, sad, angry, annoyed, or frightened. But none of those feelings are fun, healthy, or helpful so do what you can to avoid them. This has a great deal to do with what you focus on, and your sense of agency. The one single most important tool in your mental health toolbox is the ability to focus on your area of control. You don’t control the pandemic, or the weather. You do control whether you did push-ups today, or how you speak to the people in your life. Steven Covey popularised the idea of area of control (which dates back to the Stoics), in his 1989 book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. He uses the terms “circle of concern” to cover all the things you are interested in or concerned by, and “circle of influence” to cover those things over which you can exert some control. The circle of influence is always much smaller than the circle of concern, but by focussing on your circle of influence, you actually grow it, and become more able to affect the things in your circle of concern.
The key skill then is being able to control what you focus on, to keep your focus within your circle of influence. A great tool for becoming better at choosing what you focus on is mindfulness meditation. As with any skill, it gets better with practice.
One way to focus on your area of control is to make good art. Neil Gaiman was, and always will be, right on this. In his commencement speech on May 17th 2012 at the University of the Arts, he said:
“Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.
Make good art.
I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it's all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn't matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.” (Published in The View from the Cheap Seats, 2016).
Over and over again, I’ve found this to be good advice. I don’t know what your art is: writing code, painting, baking cookies, it could be anything. And it may well be that it feels like you can’t do your art right now, but there are related things you can do, to prepare for when things get back to normal. And ideally, whatever it is, share it. Which brings me on to my next thought: for mental health purposes, you’ll get the most profound sense of agency from helping others. There is nothing more empowering. It can be super-simple, such as Sir Patrick Stewart, Captain Picard himself, deciding at the beginning of the first UK lockdown, to read one Shakespeare sonnet per day aloud . You can find it on the internet. It’s very interesting to compare this shot-at-home Sir Patrick sitting on a sofa in comfortable clothes reading out of a book, with the more polished professionally produced sonnet readings of his which you can find on YouTube. To be honest, I actually prefer the homemade version. You don’t have to be producing content like this. There are a million ways to help people, and there is nothing that is better for your sense of agency, and connection.
Meaning is the story you tell about the things you focus on.
In 2015 my family and I moved to Lucca, in Tuscany, for three months. We spent a lot of that time eating pizza, but also a great deal of time in museums, “looking at old stuff” as my kids would put it. They were aged 6 and 8, and so didn’t have most of the background stories that bring meaning to a statue or a painting. The thing was either pretty, or not. We went everywhere with art supplies, so they would often sit on the floor and draw and paint the marvels around them. My wife and I would take it in turns to hang out with them while the other went exploring.
We learned early on that it made for a much better museum experience if we prepared the kids with some stories, pitched at their level. One very successful example was a YouTube video that dramatised the story of how Michelangelo created his David. When we got to Florence and took them to the Gallery of the Academy, and there David was towering over us, it had meaning for them.
Meaning is primarily mediated through story. The meaning of a piece of art is mostly in the story it tells, and the story of its creation. The meaning of your life is entirely in the stories you believe about it.
Imagine the difference between a scrap of wood on the trash heap, and an identical scrap of wood that a devout Christian believes is a piece of the True Cross. The meaning the Christian brings to the scrap of wood determines the quality of their experience seeing it.
I have a thought experiment for you, to illustrate this. I call it “three broken legs.”
You wake up in hospital in a lot of pain. You have a broken leg. There are three possible stories to explain why.
1. You went skiing/hang-gliding/mountaineering/insert fun but dangerous activity of choice. You had an accident, and your leg is broken. It happens, you knew the risks and took them.
2. You were walking down the street one day, when somebody came up to you with a baseball bat, shouted hate into your face, and broke your leg with the bat.
3. You were walking down the same street one day, and saw a truck about to run over a child. You leap into action, you save the child, but the truck breaks your leg.
One of these injuries is neutral; one is likely to require some serious counselling and may result in long-term psychological problems, and one is a badge of honour that you will draw strength from for the rest of your life. The broken leg is the same in each case.
Your emotional response to the injury is at least as important as the injury itself. The story that comes with the scar determines your experience of the scar.
And mental health is entirely about your experience, your subjective response to external factors.
So how does this apply to training?
From an entirely rational perspective it is absolutely pointless to study most martial arts most of the time. You are never going to use them. I certainly have no intention of ever fighting a duel. My sword training is in that sense a giant waste of time. But it resonates with a depth of meaning for me that every sword person understands intuitively, and no non-sword people will ever fathom. I am wired to see meaning in swordsmanship. I’m guessing that if you are reading this, so are you. Or maybe it’s some other martial art that turns you on. It doesn’t matter which one; it matters that it has meaning to you.
The sword is a sacred object. With its sharp point it pierces the veil of illusion, and with its sharp edge it separates truth from falsehood. It demands balance and justice. It focusses my being on a single point.
But literally every object is sacred, if you see it through the eyes of the right story.
So why are you training? What meaning do you bring to the arts you practise?
It’s perfectly all right if they are just a fun way to spend time and stay reasonably fit. But you need to bring meaning to some area of your life. Endless contemplation of the infinite void in which people are meaningless specks of agitated matter and we might as well not bother might have the satisfaction of being kind of accurate, but it’s not conducive to mental health.
Connection is our relationship to the people around us.
We are social animals. Without our place in society, we are nothing. In every culture banishment is a severe punishment, and in many times and places was equivalent to or considered worse than death. For most of pre-history our place in our tribe was literally how we survived. This is as true for hermits as it is for the most gregarious among us. Having very limited connection is not at all the same as having none.
Loneliness is a plague in our society, at least as damaging as the global pandemic, and of course it has been made worse by the pandemic. It is literally better for our mental health to be hated than to be ignored.
Of course, it’s better to be loved.
But what has this got to do with training?
Simply this: a large component of martial arts training is social, and as with any other human activity, it creates tribes and societies. This is good, in that we need to feel part of a tribe, but comes with the risk of cultish behaviours. Once we are deeply connected to the people in a tribe, staying part of the in-group becomes more important than other factors like rationality, morality and kindness. Martial arts are as vulnerable to becoming irrational cults as any other kind of human organisation. All this means is that we must be mindful of our need for connection, and make sure that we are connecting with the kinds of people who will bring out our best selves. When evaluating a school or club, see how the senior students behave – do you want to become like them? Because if you stay, you probably will.
It goes deeper than our need for social interaction though. Creativity is intimately linked with connection, because we create primarily through connecting previously separate ideas. Great writers aren’t great because they invent a lot of new words – they are great because they connect old words together in new ways. When growing your tree, you need to draw on the ideas of those around you. You can do this through personal interaction, but also through books, videos, and other forms of idea-spreading.
Connection is necessary for your emotional wellbeing, but also for your creativity. I wrote my first book because a friend suggested I should. I wrote my second because a student from my old club happened to complain about there being nothing out there for the rapier. Without these chance connections, I doubt I’d have started writing; I never had “be a writer” as a goal in life. But look how that turned out! Matthew Syed’s book Rebel Ideas explores the relationship between broad social connections and creativity in depth.
During the pandemic I have had a hard rule of at least one social call with a friend every week. Most weeks I have two or three. And if any of my friends contacts me wanting to talk, that takes priority over any work I may need to do. Connection is so fundamentally important to human wellbeing, way more so than any specific project I may be working on.
Our need for connection has many downsides, such as comparisonitis. We compare ourselves to those who are richer, prettier, stronger, luckier, more charismatic, more “successful”, whatever success means to you. My books do ok, but Stephen King probably wouldn’t be impressed by my figures. I find it helpful to be mindful about whom I compare myself with, and the metrics I use for comparison. Most people I know make more money than I do. I don’t care; I have way more free time. And my job description is infinitely cooler. If it comes down to money, I prefer to compare myself to the several billion people on the planet who make less than I do, rather than the much smaller number who make more.
If you are mindful of the categories you compete in, you can optimise for your mental health.
If you are living a life you believe to be meaningful, and have a sense of agency over it, and have strong connections to those around you, then you are in the best position to have solid mental health. If your training feels meaningful, gives you a sense of agency, and fosters connections with other people, it’s likely to help your mental health. This is why it is so very important to train in such a way that you are getting meaning, agency and connection. Because otherwise your training could feel meaningless, reduce your sense of control, and sever your connections with others.
After a session that goes really well, reflect on why. The chances are good that it scored highly in one or more of the three pillars. And if a session goes badly, which pillar did it fail to strengthen? How can you correct that next time?
I should also mention that your mind needs rest too. A bit of boredom is very good for you (see Bored and Brilliant, by Manoush Zamorodi if you don’t agree).
Swords have been a major part of my life since I was a kid and I still have days when my training feels meaningless. It’s normal, and we have ways round it. My own particular fix is having students. They depend on me to have decent sword skills, so on days when I can’t see meaning or value in training, I train for them.
Physical health is important primarily because it impacts on mental health. Would you rather be blissfully happy but disabled, or utterly miserable but physically fine? A great deal of your experience is mediated through your body. To take a straightforward example: adrenaline and cortisol are produced in the adrenal glands, which are connected to your kidneys. The adrenaline rush we get from a roller-coaster or falling in love? You can thank your adrenal glands. The grinding long-term damage from elevated cortisol levels? That’s your adrenal glands too. It is artificial to separate mind and body, they are deeply intertwined. This is why in many cases changing what you do with your body can deeply affect your mental health.
Do you ever have days when it feels like you're carrying an invisible anvil around with you? Probably. Most people do.
I've been going to a therapist for the last few weeks to try to sort out why I've been having irrational downswings. Everything in life is going splendidly, and yet I can sink into a weird funk for weeks at a time where my life's work seems trivial, and pointless, and it's only my deeply ingrained habits that keep me exercising and producing things. It's normal to have a couple of days, or even a week, to recover after finishing a major project like a book, but when the urge to get doing again doesn't reappear after several weeks, well, that's not ok. I get grumpy with my wife and kids, and just can't see the point of it all.
It's probably related to the whole boarding school thing, and with being at the classic time of life where men get stupid, buy sports cars and shag their secretaries. The closest thing I have to a secretary is my virtual assistant, and she lives in Georgia (USA), so there no risk of that particular symptom, but still, this is not a healthy place to be. Though for the record, I've never been bothered at all by getting older, at least not consciously.
This is my first time going to therapy, paying a professional to listen to me blather. Probably because I have very very good friends, who listen to me blather for free! But even talking to them has not solved the problem of these downswings, so I thought I'd give this a try. The first insight from the first session was that I love a crisis; I can rise to it, and get shit done. If everything goes wrong, I'm actually happy. But when everything is going fine, that's when the trouble starts. One solution to this is to manufacture crises, which is not a good response in the long term. Another is to bury myself in projects, which is again not great, as it pulls me away from my family.
But I'm not here to bang on about the specifics of my issues. The reason I'm writing this is really simple. There is a very silly belief in the wider world that there is something shameful, weak, or incompetent about getting help for a mind problem. As if your brain wasn't an organ like your liver or your lungs. If my liver was not behaving as it should and I couldn't fix it myself, I'd get a professional to take a look. Same thing with my mind.
I should also point out that I made my first appointment while I was feeling fine. You don't have to be in the middle of an episode to take action. And I'm still fine; right now, I can see how lucky I am, and how well everything is going, and life is not only good, I can see that it is good. And if all goes well, today's session will help keep things that way. So don't wait for the storm to hit before you prepare for it.
I mentioned that I was going to therapy in my writing group, and one chap exclaimed “but Guy, you're the sanest person I know!”. Leaving aside what that says about his social circle being madder than a box of frogs, the underlying assumption was that therapy is just for the the insane. It's a common mistake, and is equivalent to thinking that you should only go to the doctor if the disease is acute and fatal.
So this post is for anyone out there who may find that the example of Jedi Master Guy the Living Sword God (as I am widely known) needing some help with his head and going and getting it makes it a bit easier for themselves to take the plunge. Seriously, chaps, you don't have to suffer in silence. You can call a friend. You can call the Samaritans (phone 116 123 in the UK; 1 (800) 273-TALK in the USA, or google “samaritans”); readers please add contact details for similar services that work in your area in the comments below.
I'll close by reminding you that I'm not a doctor, and even if I was, I'm not your doctor, so don't get your mental health advice from a swordsman. Get it from a qualified practitioner. I hope this post was completely useless to you, because you're fine through and through. But if not, then I hope it makes going and talking to someone that little bit easier.
In “Following my own advice” I described how I try to get something important done every day before checking emails, because prioritising the important over the apparently urgent is key. In that post I rather blithely referred to concentrating on ‘creating assets’, and loosely defined assets as “anything that adds value to your life. Value in this case is usually either money, or reputation, or both.”
I’ve had a lot of interesting feedback on the post, mostly through my mailing list (feel free to join below), and one point that came up more than once is that I didn't define ‘assets’ clearly enough, so I thought I’d go through in detail what I think I should be spending my time on.
You spotted how I carefully did not say “you should be spending your time on”, right? As ever, take my advice with a sceptical mind, and discard anything that doesn’t work for you. One big caveat: being self-employed means I have a dick of a boss who never gives me time off or a raise, but I can choose literally anything to work on. That's both a blessing and a curse.
Here is the Master Asset List, my top three assets, in order of priority.
Every experience you will ever have is mediated and experienced by your consciousness. There is no experience so blissful that you can’t be miserable during it, and no experience so awful that bliss is impossible. Perhaps the best single resource on this is Sam Harris’ book Waking Up, closely followed by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book Flow. The key elements to my mental health are:
1. My relationships (primarily wife and children, other family and close friends, everyone else).
2. Meaningful work. Like writing this blog post. Or the next book. What makes it meaningful for me is its ability to transform other people’s lives for the better.
3. Meditation. I meditate every day, and have been doing so (with more or less regularity) for many years. The last year or so has been especially difficult, and one of my coping strategies has been to get a lot stricter about doing my meditation every day. It helps. I’ve written a short guide to getting started if you want to try it out.
4. Fun. Much underrated, but it is critically important to kick back and have fun often. Never underestimate the power of silly.
All the rest of these assets listed below are only relevant or useful because they affect my state of mind. It’s easier to be mentally healthy when you’re physically healthy and not worried about money.
2. Prioritising Physical Health
“If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.” Count Rugen was a villain, but he spoke truth here. Physical health rests on three foundations: sleep, what you eat, and how you move.
Sleep: The best single source on sleep matters (and sleep does matter!) is Matthew Walker’s Why We Sleep. In short, the more and better you sleep, the longer you live. Good sleep is really the ultimate time management strategy because it a) buys you more time because you live longer and b) makes your waking hours vastly more productive.There are so many factors affecting sleep that it would take a whole book to go into them (like Dr. Walker’s!), but I’ll summarise the main things that have helped me:
Avoid caffeine for at least 12 hours before bedtime. Yes, 12 hours. I only drink coffee at breakfast. Caffeine kills deep sleep.
Avoid alcohol, or at least get it all out of your system before bed. Alcohol kills REM sleep.
Keep the bedroom dark, cool, and quiet.
Stop eating at least 3 hours before bed. A full stomach affects sleep quality.
Nap, but not too long or too late. eg 30-60 minutes at 2pm.
All screens off at least an hour before bed, and screens after 8pm are set to ‘Night Mode’, cutting down on blue light. This last may not be very important (the scientific consensus has changed since the first draft of this), but if you're avoiding screens you're also avoiding emails, social media, etc., which will tend to keep you awake.
I could go on, but you get the picture. As with everything, experiment to see what works for you. I track sleep with the OURA ring when necessary, but you can use other tools, or just notice how you feel in the morning. Top tip: if you need an alarm to wake up, you haven’t slept enough.
Diet: I’ve written up my approach to diet in lots of places, including here, here, and here; and it can be summed up as:
That's a very big topic dismissed in a few lines, so do check out those links if you're interested.
Exercise: How you move… hmmm, I wonder what kind of exercise a professional swordsman would recommend… ok, start with looking after your joints (here’s a free course on knee maintenance), and carry on by finding any physical activity that you enjoy, and do it regularly. That could be walking the dog, ballet, rock-climbing, trapeze, anything. Some activities are better adapted for long-term health than others, but if health is your priority you can probably avoid most of the damage that might be done during the less conservative activities. I’m a big fan of breathing exercises, as you probably know; they are the foundation of my movement practice, and they are specifically designed and intended for promoting health.
An imperfect plan that you actually follow is way better than a perfect plan that you abandon, so it’s much more important to find something fun that keeps you moving, than it is to find the ‘perfect’ health-giving exercise. Moving your body should not be a chore.
Once your mental and physical health are being attended to, then the next big thing is money. Money worries are truly toxic to your mental health, and can poison every aspect of your life. Think of those bankers jumping out of windows during the Great Depression, all because some numbers on a bit of paper were not the way they wanted them. Weird, huh? But real. Just choosing not to worry is an option, of course, but it's much easier for most people to actually do something to reduce expenditure and increase income. Incidentally, my favourite money blog is Mr Money Moustache. He's refreshingly unapologetic.
I should point out that I am by no means rich- I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of months since I became an adult in which I had enough cash in the bank to cover the next month’s bills in advance. This is because I have always, always, put time-rich ahead of money-rich, on the grounds that you can always make more money but when time is spent, it’s gone for good. My first salary as a cabinet maker was £6000 per year. I learned fast enough to double that in two years. Woohoo! And swordsmen these days don’t make much cash either.
But, and here’s the big BUT. Since the beginning of 2015, I’ve been effectively living off passive income. My books and courses generate about enough money to live on, month by month. People buy my books and courses while I’m asleep. And, given that I’ve never made a lot of money, I’ve never become addicted to a large and regular income, so it took relatively little time or effort to get to the point where my assets were generating enough income to cover all normal expenses. This means that I am now much freer to choose the things I spend my time on. Like taking all day Wednesday off this week because it's my daughter's birthday and she has stuff planned from dawn 'till dusk.
In short, my work priorities are:
do I think it's important, in terms of serving the art?
will it be good for my reputation?
will it force me to acquire new skills?
will it produce passive income?
is it scalable?
Let's take those one at a time:
Work Priorities
1. Serving the art: In my experience, every single time I've tried to be ‘businesslike' and put what should be a sensible business move in place it's gone horribly wrong. But when contemplating a course of action if I can look into my heart and say ‘yes, this will serve the art', then it's always turned out ok (even if it hasn't made any money).
2. Reputation: Not every asset generates income: some generate opportunity. When The Swordsman's Companion was published in 2004, it made me no money at all (there’s a story there, but after suing the publisher, part of the settlement included a mutual non-defamation agreement. Make of that what you will). But that book put me on the map as an instructor. I suddenly started getting invited to events to teach, which massively broadened my horizons. Students from all over the world started to get in touch, having heard of me because they found my book in a bookshop somewhere. My Singapore branch came into being because Chris Blakey and Greg Galistan stumbled upon my book in the Borders Bookshop there. And when the rights reverted to me in 2012, I self-published it, and now it pays the mortgage.
3. Acquire skills: Time spent working on skills is never wasted, especially skills that you learn for their own sake rather than for a specific objective. Because whatever skill you are learning, you are simultaneously learning how to learn, and, more importantly, if you’re learning for its own sake you are putting process over outcome. Let’s say I learned to speak German because I wanted a job in Germany. If I learned German but didn’t get the job, the time would have been wasted, and I wouldn’t take full advantage of being able to talk to Germans in their own language, to read German books and watch German films. But if I learned German for its own sake, and it happened to lead to a job, well that’s a bonus.
A skill become an asset when they add value to your life. I really cannot think of a single skill I’ve ever regretted learning. And I can think of several that I learned ‘just because’, that then turned out to be professionally useful. Martial arts being the obvious example- I didn’t even think of turning professional until 2000, and I had about 15 years of training under my belt by then!
4. Passive income: There is nothing wrong with being paid for your time. And nothing wrong with being productive. But even in the classic model of employment, you’re supposed to retire at some point and live off your pension. Your pension is created by investments that pay you a passive income. This is how people in professions like dentistry can end up retiring in comfort- they make a good income per hour, being paid by the hour, but use a big chunk of that active income to buy assets (such as stocks and funds) that produce a passive income.
A passive income is defined as income that requires no work on your part whatsoever. If you are packing and shipping your own books, that’s not passive income. If you have to be in a specific place, or awake at a specific time, to get paid, that’s not passive income. When I am faced with a choice between producing something I can get paid once for (a woodworking commission, a writing commission, private lessons, seminars etc), or producing something that will generate a passive income stream, even a small one, then I will tend to choose the latter.
Perhaps the most outrageous examples of this choice comes from the original Star Wars movie. Carrie Fisher sold her image rights outright for a sizeable chunk of money. Over a thousand dollars, I think, way back in the 70s when that was worth something. Alec Guinness got paid royalties. Guess which one did better? There was a lot of luck involved, but if you don’t have passive-income producing assets that might go all Harry Potter on you, then it cannot ever happen.
Let’s put some numbers on this. In 2016 The Swordsman's Companion made about 10,000 dollars in income for me (it was my best-selling book by a margin!). To generate similar returns, I would need at least 200k in traditional assets. Here’s an article on how that would work. If anyone wanted to buy that book off me outright, I’d therefore ask for at least 200k. Nobody in their right mind would offer me that much, so the book stays with me. Folk might stop buying it tomorrow. But folk might still be buying it in 50 years time. There is no way to know, and that is true of any asset. Stock markets crash like Italian drivers. There is no such thing as a perfectly safe investment- even cash loses value over time. My mother in law saved for a pension for 30 years- and just before she was due to retire, the fund (Eagle Star) crashed and she lost the lot. Nothing is safe, so the only sane course is diversification, which is why you can buy my books on any platform, in any format- so long as people still want to read about how to train with swords, they will be able to buy my books on the subject.
5. Scalable: A scalable asset is one which you create once, and can sell an infinite number of times. I have spent most of my working life producing non-scalable assets. Back when I was a cabinet maker, I would work for hours and hours on a piece of furniture, which was then sold. As a martial arts teacher, I would teach a class, which existed only in that moment. I got paid for that moment, but that was it. There is nothing wrong with this model if you have the energy to work full time forever, and never get sick. A non-scalable asset might produce passive income, but you can still only sell it once. A house that you rent out is a good example. It can be an excellent passive income stream, but you can only rent the house out to one tenant or group of tenants at a time.
A book is scalable- you write it once, and when it’s published people can buy as many copies of it as they want. You don’t have to write each reader a new book. An online course is scalable too; create it once, sell it as many times as you like.
Ideally, my most productive time is spent prioritising serving the art, building my reputation, learning skills, and producing scalable assets that produce passive income.
So, that's how prioritise my time; how do you prioritise yours?
“If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything!”
Truer words were never spoken, certainly not by Count Rugen anyway.*
Way back in the dawn of time when I began training martial arts, I was enraptured by the idea of martial arts training being a balance between breaking people and fixing them, by the notion of the martial artist as a healer as well as a warrior. This is one of the reasons I was drawn to T’ai Chi; it is usually associated with healthy practice. And it’s why I was so taken by Tai Shin Mun kung fu (you can read more about that here). I literally owe my career to the not-so-tender ministrations of their instructor, Num, who fixed my wrists for me back in 2000.
This is the background behind my obsession with mechanics and correct movement. Not so much for martial efficiency, though it certainly does that, but more because I want to be able to train until I die (sometime in my early 100s). I am blessed with a crap skeleton, which creaks and breaks and sends lances of agony up my spine if I fail to keep up my practice, or if I practice just a little bit wrong. Blessed because it has forced me to learn absolutely correct movement, which has in turn allowed me to share that knowledge with my students, freeing many of them from long-term pain, and undoing, or at least halting, the damage caused by poor mechanics.
I cannot abide the idea of anyone who needs this knowledge not having free access to it, certainly not for such a poor reason as lack of funds, so I have extracted the essentials from my footwork course, shot some extra footage, and put together a short ‘keep my knees working forever’ course. The course is 100% free and without strings attached. I want you to be healthy. Go, be healthy.
I am also planning a weapons-handling course, which will include forearm conditioning and maintenance. I’ll release the essential health component of that course free too, so you can keep your arms working properly despite the depredations of computers and couches.
It was my birthday yesterday, and I intended to launch this then (I approve of the Hobbit custom of giving presents on your birthday), but I was sadly too busy opening presents, drinking wine, and generally having fun, so it's an early Christmas present instead.
*if you don't know who Count Rugen is, you very badly need to drop what you're doing and watch the Princess Bride. See here:
Safety Guidelines for the Practice of Swordsmanship
These safety guidelines come from my Recreate Historical Swordsmanship from Historical Sources Course (included in our Mastering the Art of Arms and Solo Training packages here) and have been adapted from guidelines in The Medieval Longsword,The Duellist's Companion, and The Theory and Practice of Historical Martial Arts. All of those books are included as downloadable pdfs in the additional course material.
Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nothing without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.
Edward Whymper’s admonition, from Scrambles amongst the Alps, elegantly encapsulates the correct attitude to all potentially lethal activities. Substitute “practice swordsmanship” for “climb”, and there is the correct mindset for any swordsman, beginner or expert. Take it to heart before you start training with a partner.
When training with weapons you hold your partner's life in your hands. This is a sacred trust and must not be abused.
Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility of any kind for injuries you sustain while you are not under my direct personal supervision. During this course you will be taught how to create safe training drills, and I am certain that if you follow the instructions there is a very low likelihood of injury. But if I am not there in person to create and sustain a safe training environment, I cannot be held responsible for any accidents that may occur.
Principles
The basic principles of safe training are:
Respect: for the Art, your training partners, the weapons, and yourself.
Caution: assume everything is dangerous unless you have reason to believe otherwise.
Know your limits. Just because it’s safe for somebody else, does not necessarily mean it’s safe for you. Never train or fence when you are tired, angry, or in any state of mind or body that makes accidents and injuries more likely.
Most groups that keep going for more than a year have a pretty good set of safety guidelines in place. Make sure you know what they are, and follow them.
My senior students routinely train with sharp swords, often with no protection. That’s not as dangerous as it sounds, when you remember that they have been training usually for 5+ years at that point, under my supervision.
Safety first: you cannot afford time off training for stupid injuries. Life’s too short. Whatever training you are doing must must must leave you healthier than you started it. You will not win Olympic gold medals this way, but you won’t end up a cripple either. The path to sporting glory is littered with the shattered bodies and minds of the unlucky many who broke themselves on the way. Don’t join them.
Every time I find myself teaching a group I don’t know, I tell them that the class will be successful from my point of view if everyone finishes class healthier than they started it. Most injuries in training occur either during tournament (highly competitive) freeplay, or are self-inflicted during things like warm-ups. In my school (and other classes) we have a zero tolerance policy on macho bullshit.
If any exercise doesn’t suit you, for any reason, you can sit it out, or do some other exercise. If you are sitting it out, a good instructor will ask you why, and help you develop alternatives or work up to the exercise in easy stages, but will never pressure you to do something that might injure you.
This is also true of work-related injuries, like forearm problems from typing, or the ghastly effects of sitting all day. By avoiding the things that will hurt you, you will naturally seek out the things that are good for you. Hungry? Avoid sugar, avoid processed foods, and lo! there’s a fresh salmon salad. Tired? Sleep is better than barbiturates, no?
This requires good risk-assessment skills (I recommend Against the Gods, the Remarkable Story of Risk, by Peter Bernstein) and the courage to take risks that truly serve your overall aims. A safe life is not worth living, but foolish risk-taking will not make your life meaningful.
Try adopting these key habits:
Before any new activity, do a risk/reward calculation. How risky is it, and how
rewarding?
Practice saying no to training suggestions: even safe ones. Most people do stupidly
risky things due to peer pressure. Being able to say no to your peers is perhaps the most important skill in reducing injury rates. If this is hard, make it a habit to decline at least one suggestion every session, until it’s easy.
Equipment
Without doubt the single most important bit of safety equipment is good common sense. Fence according to the limits of your equipment, exercise control and respect the weapon at all times, and you will never have a serious injury. Minor bumps and bruises come with the territory.
There were some masters who believed that the safest course is to fence with sharp weapons and no protection. This is how it was often done in the past until the invention of fencing masks (though there are tournament records and declarations as early as the 14th century that record the use of blunt practice weapons; King Rene d’Anjou’s treatise of 1470 is perhaps the best source). Such masters are right in theory, in that freeplay with sharps is the best way for students to learn absolute respect for the weapon, and the importance of absolute control. There are a few contemporary masters with whom I will fence like this, and there is nothing like it for generating a perfect fencing approach. But try explaining that to the insurance companies, or in the event of a slip, the police or coroner.
It was often said in the eighteenth century that you could tell a fencing master from his eye-patch and missing teeth. Never forget that even a blunt blade can break bones. When free fencing, or when practicing drills at speed, it is essential that you wear appropriate safety gear. You do this not for your own sake, though self-preservation does come into it, but for the bene t of your training partner. Your protection allows him to hit you safely.
Choosing protection is a very controversial subject. Too little, and you can end up badly hurt (even in practice). Too much, and you can’t fence properly. Firstly, it is important to establish what style of fencing you will be doing. If you are practising armoured combat, then buy the best fitting, best made armour that you can from an armourer who knows how you intend to use it and has seen what you want to do. This is the hardest style of fencing to appropriately regulate, because accurate technique requires you to go for the least armoured spots (throat, eyes, armpits, joints), but safety requirements obviously prohibit that.
As a general guideline, I recommend the following for most weapons.
An FIE standard fencing mask. This allows you to thrust at the face (a very common target), and generally attack the head. This does have three major caveats. Firstly, it leaves the back of the head open, and you must be very careful not to strike at this target. An added apron of thick leather affords some protection. Secondly, it does not protect the head and neck from the wrenching force of over-vigorous blows. It is vital that you and your opponent learn control before engaging in freeplay. Thirdly it is designed to protect the face from high-speed, light, flexible weapons, not slower, heavier, rigid ones. So continually check them for wear, and make absolutely sure that your weapons are properly bated.
A steel or leather gorget, or stiff collar, to protect the throat. Points can slip under the bib of a mask and crush the larynx.
(For women) a rigid plastic chest guard.
A point-resistant fencing jacket rated at least 500 newtons. Sturdy, preferably padded and/or armoured gauntlets, which should extend at least four inches past the jacket cuff to prevent points sliding up your sleeve. I have twice had fingers broken through unpadded mail gloves, and now use a pair of fingered gauntlets from Jiri Krondak, which cost about 150€.
A padded gambeson, or a plastron. If you are making one yourself, bear in mind that it should be thick enough to take the worst out of the impact of the blows, and prevent penetration from a thrust. All openings should be covered. The collar should be high enough that thrusts coming under the bib of the mask do not make contact with your throat. A plastron must wrap around the ribs, and properly cover the collar bones and shoulders. I usually wear a fencing jacket and plastron (as pictured).
A box for men (called a “cup” in the US). You only forget this once.
Rigid plastic protectors for the knees and
For the elbows, of the sort worn by in-line skaters (worn under the
clothes for that period look if you prefer), will save a lot of pain, and some injury.
Footwear: on the matter of footwear, few practitioners agree. In the longsword treatises, there are no heavy boots, and certainly no built-up heels. For a completely historical style, it is necessary to wear completely accurate period clothing at least occasionally, because it can affect the way you move. It does not matter much what you wear on your feet provided that you understand grounding, body-mechanics and footwork, but attaining that understanding is much easier barefoot or in very thin flat soles. Excessively grippy soles can lead to joint injury as you may stop too suddenly, or get stuck when you should be turning (particularly in falls at close quarters). The dangers of wearing too slippery soles are obvious. In the salle I usually wear medieval shoes or ‘barefoot’ shoes (aka five-fingers, or ‘toe shoes’), and recommend a thin, flat sole regardless.
You can find our current equipment recommendations here.
The Sword
Training swords come in three main types. Authentic sharp reproductions, which are used for cutting practice and some pair work with advanced students, blunt swords that try to reproduce the handling characteristics of the sharps, and fencing swords that are designed to make fencing safer. These all have their pros and cons, and you should use the sword that’s right for your style and the kind of practice you will be doing.
It’s perfectly all right to use a wooden waster or something similar to start with, but do not imagine that there is any such thing as a safe training sword. Even modern sport fencing blades engineered for fencing sometimes break and puncture people, and anything heavy enough to reproduce the handling of a medieval or renaissance sidearm is going to be able to do damage.
Looking after your weapon is largely a matter of keeping it dry, clean, and free of stress risers (a stress riser is a weak point, usually a deep nick, which encourages the blade to fold at that point).
Occasional rubdowns with a moisture repellent oil and steel wool or scouring pad, followed by a coat of microcrystalline wax, should keep the blade and hilt clean (follow manufacturer’s recommendations if you have a gilt, blued or otherwise ornamented weapon). Do not be afraid to file down any large nicks, and file off any burrs: this is important from a safety perspective, as the blade is most likely to break at a nick, and burrs can be very sharp.
The edges of a blunt weapon should always be kept smooth enough that you can run your bare hand hard up the edge and not get scratches or splinters. Even the toughest and most cherished sword will not survive repeated abuse: the best guarantor of longevity for your sword (and yourself) is correct technique.
Rules of Engagement
Once you have agreed to fence with someone, it is important to agree on rules of engagement. This is partly to ensure safety, and partly to create an environment in which you can learn. The two most simple rules are these:
Confine permitted actionss to the safety limits of your protective gear
Confine permitted actions to the technical range of the least trained combatant. In other words, do not allow face-thrusts when wearing open helms, or throws when one of you is not trained to fall safely. The rules can be adapted further to develop specifi aspects of technique: for instance, you may not allow any close quarters work at all, or even restrict allowable hits to one small target. The idea is to come to a clear, common -sense agreement before facing off. You are only ready for no-holds-barred, totally “authentic” fight simulation, when you can enter such a fight with your judgement unimpaired.
Following the rules of engagement will not make you soft, nor will it dull your edge if it comes to the real thing; rather it it will develop self-control.
These rules apply to all fencing:
Agree on a mutually acceptable level of safety.
Wear at least the minimum amount of safety gear commensurate with rule 1. Confine allowable technique to those within the limits of your equipment.
Confine allowable technique to the technical ability of the least trained
combatant.
Appoint either an experienced student or one of the combatants to
preside over the bout.
Agree on allowable targets.
Agree on what constitutes a “hit”.
Agree on priority or scoring convention in the event of simultaneous hits. Usually it is better
to allow a fatal blow before a minor wound, but simultaneous hits should be avoided whenever possible.
Agree on the duration of the bout either in terms of hits, such as first to five, or in real time.
Acknowledge all hits against yourself. This can be done by raising the left arm, or by stopping the bout with a salute, or by calling “Halt!” and telling your opponent where and how you think she hit you.
Maintain self-command at all times.
Safe Training
In my experience most injuries are self-inflicted. It is far more common for students to hurt themselves by doing something they shouldn’t, than to hurt their training partners. Here are a few simple guidelines for joint safety, which should be followed during all training. I am using the lunge as an example of a stressful action, but these principles apply to any physical action.
The knee must always bend in the line of the foot. Knees are hinges, with usually a little under 180° range of movement. The do not respond well to torque (power in rotation). So whenever you bend your knees, in any style for any reason, ensure that the line of your foot, the line of movement of your knee, and the line of movement of your weight, are parallel. This prevents twisting and thus injuries. This one simple rule, carefully followed, eliminates all knee problems other than those arising from impact or genetic disadvantage.
Whenever performing any strenuous task (such as lunging, or lifting heavy objects), tighten your pelvic floor muscles (imagine you need to go to the bathroom, but are stuck in a queue). This supports the base of your spine, and helps with hip alignment.
Joints have two forms of support: active and passive. Passive support refers mainly to the ligaments, which bind the joint capsule together. This is basically set, and can’t be trained. When training your joint strength, with exercises or stretching, avoid any action that strains the joint capsule. Any action that causes pain in the joint itself should be modified or avoided, as it may damage the soft tissues (ligaments, tendons, cartilage). These tissues have a very poor blood supply and hence heal very slowly.
Active support refers to the muscles around the joint, and these can be strengthened by carefully straining the joint with small weights and rotations. To strengthen a joint you must stress these muscles, without endangering the ligaments. Any competent physiotherapist can show you a range of exercises for building up the active support around your knees, wrists and elbows, where we need it most.
Rest is part of training. Your body needs time to recover, and is stimulated by the stress of exercise to grow stronger. However, the body is efficient, and will withdraw support from any muscle group that is not used, even if for only a few weeks. So regular training is absolutely crucial.
If you can’t lunge without warming up, don’t lunge except in carefully controlled drills. Warming up is essential before pushing the boundaries of what your body can do.
If you find this advice sensible and useful, please feel free to share it as widely as you like!
If you would like these guidelines as a handy PDF, then drop your email in the box below and I'll send it to you.
Everybody breathes, but some do it better than others. Breathing training is the foundation of my martial practice, and as with everything else I do, I'm happy to teach it to you. The topic for the latest instalment of The Swordsman's Quick Guide was chosen by my student Cecilia Äijälä, and she picked Breathing Training. I was delighted when she did so, because it forced me to get on and write up my training methods.
This book comes in three packages:
1.The Book, with Video
This package includes:
the book in epub, pdf and kindle format with links to the videos,
plus a separate download of all the video clips to teach you the exercises,
plus an embedded epub with the video clips built in.
It also includes a £10 discount voucher for the course.
The course is a carefully designed progression of exercises, spread out over six weeks (you can pace it as you wish, and do it faster or slower). Each week begins with a lesson, in which you will learn the exercises for the week. The week then continues with a shorter practice session, which you repeat ideally every day for the next six days. In the final week, you will learn how to create 5 minute, ten minute, and twenty minute practice routines, so that you will always be able to find time to do some practice.
The course material includes everything in the other two packages, so all of the book, audio, and video files. The course is available now, but the lesson and practice routine videos are not completed yet. Week one is ready, and all of the book with all of its audio and video material too. Weeks 2-4 have been shot, and I'm editing them right now. The rest of the course material will be uploaded by October 1st.
I released this to my email list yesterday (they get just about everything first!) with a healthy 50% discount. If you would like the same treatment, you can sign up to my list below, and I'll send you the same discount links. These links expire on Friday 9th September, so if you're interested, now's your best chance to save a packet.
We’ve been in Ipswich for a couple of months, and perhaps the most common question I’ve been asked is “what’s it like” followed in popularity by “Ipswich? Why?” So I thought I’d summarise some of the key points, in the form of a tennis match. Because this is England, and it’s summer. Or at least pretending to be. It's Helsinki to serve, and oh my, it's a scorcher.
Plumbing.
Oh dear god. The Romans got to this island nearly 2000 years ago, and they had better plumbing than the people of Ipswich, and indeed the British Isles, have to put up with. It’s a disgrace, really. The other day, a pipe got loose in the bath, while I was in it, and water escaped from the proper channel. Did it run safely through a drain in the sealed bathroom floor? No, its path of least resistance was through the ceiling light in the kitchen. I offer this video as proof, because my Finnish friends may be incredulous.
And, oddly, while it’s apparently impossible to insulate a house properly over here, and so it’s staggeringly inefficient to heat them, it’s also impossible to get a really cold shower. Which avid readers of this blog will know are part of my normal conditioning. I use shower in the loosest possible sense. The tepid trickle you get here is quite inadequate when compared to the blasts of water I became accustomed to back in civilization Helsinki.
It gets worse. The water here tastes like what I imagine the nervous sweat in Boris Johnson’s shorts would taste like if he was forced to actually state something he truly believed in on a particularly hot day. It’s no doubt perfectly safe, but oh, the water in Helsinki.
Helsinki 15 luv.
Food and drink.The water being quite undrinkable, we are simply forced to purchase large quantities of wine and beer, and drink that instead. And oh, my poor Northern friends, while the prices aren’t quite as good as in Italy, they are about half what we paid in Alko. Especially as there are all sorts of special offers, and services that will supply you with good, low cost wine, delivered to your door for free. We get all sorts of things delivered: bacon of a quality almost unknown in the benighted North (American Pekoni? no, sorry, really not); vegetables direct from the farmer through Growing Places, brought to our door, a tenner for a big box. It’s really incredibly handy having chaps in a van bring our groceries. And still cheaper than walking to K market. So on the matter of food and drink, Ipswich has Helsinki beat hands down. No salmiakki, of course, but that's a blessing, not a curse (though Grace would not agree).
15-all.
The Natives.
What with all this cheap alcohol, is it any wonder that the natives are so friendly? On our first day together in town, Grace (my eldest, age 9, and a Salmiakki-eating Finn at heart) asked “why is everyone talking to us?”. She was perplexed by the way everyone smiled, said good morning in the street though we’d never met, and at school after her first day, she was quite taken aback by the way that every girl in her class spoke to her at least once. In Finland, she said, they’d have left her alone. But she has made friends very quickly, and so have we.
I love my Finnish friends, and I hope they know it. And there are many Finns who are very gregarious, by Finnish standards at least. But making new friends here has been incredibly easy.
Ipswich leads, 30-15.
Bureaucracy.
But then there’s the paperwork. While Finnish bureaucracy is complex, it is at least generally consistent, and, with your personal id number and some photo id you can do just about everything you need to do, from opening a bank account, to renting a house. Here? No, really not. It’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Proof of address that works for the county council regarding school places for the children is not accepted by the bank as proof of address when opening an account. I could go on, but I’d get very cross and it would ruin my evening. It’s almost as if all the rules were made in the 15th century, and never really updated properly. Oh, no, that’s actually exactly what’s happened.
30-all.
Visitors.
Speaking of people: they actually visit the UK. And we are only an hour from London. So far, in the last two months I have seen more of my international friends than I’ve seen in the last two years in Finland. By the end of this month, I’ll have seen three sets of Americans, one set of Canadians, and two sets of Finns (both of which are over here not just to see us, so count as “foreign friends visiting the UK anyway, and meeting up with us too”). That is a massive win.
with Sean Hayes at the Tower of London.
Ipswich leads, 40-30
Housing.
Now for house prices. Dear god, this island has gone insane. Badly designed, badly insulated houses, with poky little rooms (because proper sized rooms are too expensive to heat even by English standards), with appalling plumbing (see above) and rubbish infrastructure (the bins, don’t get me started), cost twice what the closest equivalent would cost in Finland. It’s insane, and driven entirely by a mania for ‘getting up the property ladder’, that makes the house primarily an investment and only secondarily a home. It’s absurd, and quite revolting. Sure, some of them are draughty and cold because they are truly ancient and therefore very beautiful.
That's a trade I could be persuaded to make. But houses built in the last 80 years just cannot justify their crapness by any claim to a compensating beauty.
Deuce
Culture.
But around these terrible houses, there is so much going on! Theatre, concerts, you name it. Yes, I know that they have stuff like that in Finland, but to be honest most of it is either a) very expensive, b) crap, or c) in Finnish, which Michaela doesn’t understand well enough to enjoy a play in, and, truth be told, neither do I. Honestly, I hate to say it, but the cultural life here in the small town of Ipswich is at least as good, and cheaper, than we got in the capital of Finland. Plus we can and do go up to London for day trips to see things and people.
Advantage Ipswich
Data
How anybody gets anything done on their phones here escapes me. I signed up to the ‘fastest data' in the UK with EE. I am willing to believe that somewhere in the British Isles, there is at least one spot where, when the stars align, and the moon is waxing, and you hold your phone just so, you might actually get a decent 4G connection, for ten whole seconds at a time. In my actual home in Ipswich, not a mile from the centre of town, I barely even get phone coverage, let alone mobile data. And they have the absolute gall to charge through the nose for it! I switched to Three, but that doesn't seem any better (though they do have decent calls to Finland rates, and I can use my phone there too without incurring extra charges. Who knows, in Finland I might actually get a signal). And get this: even when you can get a signal: data is limited! to like 1 or 2 gigs a month! In Finland you can't even buy a limited data plan- you just pay extra for the speed. Though in Finland, you do actually get the promised speeds, at least some of the time. And it costs about half of what we pay here for a reasonable plan, such as 4gb/month.
Mobile telephony came of age in Finland, and the UK is lagging about a decade behind. It's very sad, really.
Deuce.
And dammit, I’m running out of space, and it’s starting to rain. Looks like we’ll have to call it a draw so far, cover the court, open a bottle of wine, and schedule a rematch for later!
Safety Guidelines for the Practice of Swordsmanship
Table of Contents
Safety Guidelines for the Practice of Swordsmanship
These safety guidelines come from my Recreate Historical Swordsmanship from Historical Sources Course (included in our Mastering the Art of Arms and Solo Training packages here) and have been adapted from guidelines in The Medieval Longsword, The Duellist's Companion, and The Theory and Practice of Historical Martial Arts. All of those books are included as downloadable pdfs in the additional course material.
Edward Whymper’s admonition, from Scrambles amongst the Alps, elegantly encapsulates the correct attitude to all potentially lethal activities. Substitute “practice swordsmanship” for “climb”, and there is the correct mindset for any swordsman, beginner or expert. Take it to heart before you start training with a partner.
When training with weapons you hold your partner's life in your hands. This is a sacred trust and must not be abused.
Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility of any kind for injuries you sustain while you are not under my direct personal supervision. During this course you will be taught how to create safe training drills, and I am certain that if you follow the instructions there is a very low likelihood of injury. But if I am not there in person to create and sustain a safe training environment, I cannot be held responsible for any accidents that may occur.
Principles
The basic principles of safe training are:
Most groups that keep going for more than a year have a pretty good set of safety guidelines in place. Make sure you know what they are, and follow them.
My senior students routinely train with sharp swords, often with no protection. That’s not as dangerous as it sounds, when you remember that they have been training usually for 5+ years at that point, under my supervision.
Safety first: you cannot afford time off training for stupid injuries. Life’s too short. Whatever training you are doing must must must leave you healthier than you started it. You will not win Olympic gold medals this way, but you won’t end up a cripple either. The path to sporting glory is littered with the shattered bodies and minds of the unlucky many who broke themselves on the way. Don’t join them.
Every time I find myself teaching a group I don’t know, I tell them that the class will be successful from my point of view if everyone finishes class healthier than they started it. Most injuries in training occur either during tournament (highly competitive) freeplay, or are self-inflicted during things like warm-ups. In my school (and other classes) we have a zero tolerance policy on macho bullshit.
If any exercise doesn’t suit you, for any reason, you can sit it out, or do some other exercise. If you are sitting it out, a good instructor will ask you why, and help you develop alternatives or work up to the exercise in easy stages, but will never pressure you to do something that might injure you.
This is also true of work-related injuries, like forearm problems from typing, or the ghastly effects of sitting all day. By avoiding the things that will hurt you, you will naturally seek out the things that are good for you. Hungry? Avoid sugar, avoid processed foods, and lo! there’s a fresh salmon salad. Tired? Sleep is better than barbiturates, no?
This requires good risk-assessment skills (I recommend Against the Gods, the Remarkable Story of Risk, by Peter Bernstein) and the courage to take risks that truly serve your overall aims. A safe life is not worth living, but foolish risk-taking will not make your life meaningful.
Try adopting these key habits:
rewarding?
risky things due to peer pressure. Being able to say no to your peers is perhaps the most important skill in reducing injury rates. If this is hard, make it a habit to decline at least one suggestion every session, until it’s easy.
Equipment
Without doubt the single most important bit of safety equipment is good common sense. Fence according to the limits of your equipment, exercise control and respect the weapon at all times, and you will never have a serious injury. Minor bumps and bruises come with the territory.
There were some masters who believed that the safest course is to fence with sharp weapons and no protection. This is how it was often done in the past until the invention of fencing masks (though there are tournament records and declarations as early as the 14th century that record the use of blunt practice weapons; King Rene d’Anjou’s treatise of 1470 is perhaps the best source). Such masters are right in theory, in that freeplay with sharps is the best way for students to learn absolute respect for the weapon, and the importance of absolute control. There are a few contemporary masters with whom I will fence like this, and there is nothing like it for generating a perfect fencing approach. But try explaining that to the insurance companies, or in the event of a slip, the police or coroner.
It was often said in the eighteenth century that you could tell a fencing master from his eye-patch and missing teeth. Never forget that even a blunt blade can break bones. When free fencing, or when practicing drills at speed, it is essential that you wear appropriate safety gear. You do this not for your own sake, though self-preservation does come into it, but for the bene t of your training partner. Your protection allows him to hit you safely.
Choosing protection is a very controversial subject. Too little, and you can end up badly hurt (even in practice). Too much, and you can’t fence properly. Firstly, it is important to establish what style of fencing you will be doing. If you are practising armoured combat, then buy the best fitting, best made armour that you can from an armourer who knows how you intend to use it and has seen what you want to do. This is the hardest style of fencing to appropriately regulate, because accurate technique requires you to go for the least armoured spots (throat, eyes, armpits, joints), but safety requirements obviously prohibit that.
As a general guideline, I recommend the following for most weapons.
clothes for that period look if you prefer), will save a lot of pain, and some injury.
You can find our current equipment recommendations here.
The Sword
Training swords come in three main types. Authentic sharp reproductions, which are used for cutting practice and some pair work with advanced students, blunt swords that try to reproduce the handling characteristics of the sharps, and fencing swords that are designed to make fencing safer. These all have their pros and cons, and you should use the sword that’s right for your style and the kind of practice you will be doing.
It’s perfectly all right to use a wooden waster or something similar to start with, but do not imagine that there is any such thing as a safe training sword. Even modern sport fencing blades engineered for fencing sometimes break and puncture people, and anything heavy enough to reproduce the handling of a medieval or renaissance sidearm is going to be able to do damage.
Looking after your weapon is largely a matter of keeping it dry, clean, and free of stress risers (a stress riser is a weak point, usually a deep nick, which encourages the blade to fold at that point).
Occasional rubdowns with a moisture repellent oil and steel wool or scouring pad, followed by a coat of microcrystalline wax, should keep the blade and hilt clean (follow manufacturer’s recommendations if you have a gilt, blued or otherwise ornamented weapon). Do not be afraid to file down any large nicks, and file off any burrs: this is important from a safety perspective, as the blade is most likely to break at a nick, and burrs can be very sharp.
The edges of a blunt weapon should always be kept smooth enough that you can run your bare hand hard up the edge and not get scratches or splinters. Even the toughest and most cherished sword will not survive repeated abuse: the best guarantor of longevity for your sword (and yourself) is correct technique.
Rules of Engagement
Once you have agreed to fence with someone, it is important to agree on rules of engagement. This is partly to ensure safety, and partly to create an environment in which you can learn. The two most simple rules are these:
Following the rules of engagement will not make you soft, nor will it dull your edge if it comes to the real thing; rather it it will develop self-control.
These rules apply to all fencing:
combatant.
preside over the bout.
to allow a fatal blow before a minor wound, but simultaneous hits should be avoided whenever possible.
Safe Training
In my experience most injuries are self-inflicted. It is far more common for students to hurt themselves by doing something they shouldn’t, than to hurt their training partners. Here are a few simple guidelines for joint safety, which should be followed during all training. I am using the lunge as an example of a stressful action, but these principles apply to any physical action.
If you can’t lunge without warming up, don’t lunge except in carefully controlled drills. Warming up is essential before pushing the boundaries of what your body can do.
If you find this advice sensible and useful, please feel free to share it as widely as you like!
If you would like these guidelines as a handy PDF, then drop your email in the box below and I'll send it to you.