Three weeks ago myself and my friend Piotr Strozik did 3000 aikido falls. This took 7.5 hours, involved the help of aikido practitioners from all over the UK and a team of counters. I'm currently discussing with Guinness whether this is a world record.
Aikido falls (or ukemi) can be hard crashing flips or soft rolls and form half of the martial art of aikido. More than just gymnastics, ukemi is an art form in itself that allow the other person to practice aikido techniques. Sometimes intense, sometimes flowing they are always hard work (see videos below (not me incidentally)). Normally in aikido you swap roles frequently as ukemi are very tiring. We estimated that taking 3000 ukemi involves rolling over nearly a kilometer of mat and is the equivalent to 1.5-2 marathons in effort.
Love and emotions
We decided to do this challenge to push our own limits, to raise money for a charity called Aiki Extensions and came up with the idea at Piotr's wedding in Poland four months before. Pete and I met while live-in aikido students under the late great William Smith Shihan - this was an intense experience that bought us close together and I was Pete's best man at his wedding. We were both just turning 30 so we settled on the number 3000...after debating the matter with various aikido teachers this also seemed the number that was at the upper limit of human possibility. Many of those we discussed it with said it wasn't possible, which of course only encouraged us.
Here's an account of what I learnt from this excess:
Preparation is everything and nothing
Perfect planning and preparation prevent poor performance and all that. Aerobic fitness, muscular conditioning, flexibility, diet, supportive community, sleep, psychological preparation, all these things were important in the months leading up to the event. I used an integral analysis of what it would take using the most complete map I'm aware of to get the most complete results -Wilber's four quadrants and ILP.
Of course no plan survives the battlefield and some things you can't plan for. Preparation is on the one hand everything, and when it comes down to it, forgotten.
It's all in the process, and it's not
There are two truths that I learnt to hold simultaneously in the process of training for the event. One is the truth that "it's the journey that counts", "it's not winning or loosing that matters but taking part" etc. When for a time in preparation I became detached from this fundamental truth of aikido (a non-competitive art after all - "do" translating as "path" or "way") I stopped enjoying my practice and became selfish in my attitude to training. Had I lost track of the balancing truth however, that it's results that count and walking the talk is what matters, I would not have made it to the finish-line on the day.
Leading up to the event I was anxious about declaring publicly that I would be doing something that would have a very definite "bar" - that I would either make or not make. It was untried, untested and frankly a risk. About a week before the event however I surrendered and stopped worrying about it. I said "You've done the best possible preparation you can, and now you will either do 3000 or do less." I also questioned how I would feel if I could not do it and realised that "success beyond success" was what really mattered to me - i.e. living the preparation and the day according to my values no matter what, and being satisfied with the outcome having done this. So when asked on the morning "What if you fail?" I answered "It's already been a success."
For those familiar with Spiral Dynamics and other adult developmental models this process was about integrating the relativist (try your best green) and achiviest (success is what matters orange) value sets. I will mention the SD colours in the rest of this article as they seem relavent.
It's not about me - egocentric, ethnocentric, cosmocentric
Early on Pete and I decided to raise money for charity with the challenge to make it about something "more than us." Throughout the process the dangers of ego aggrandisement abounded...perhaps I am operating from there now, I'll let you decide. What I noticed however very quickly that the training process and the day itself involved a whole community of people. The sense I had during the day was that I had a limited reserve of strength that was quickly diminished despite being physically very fit. After or "under" this was a second reserve of communal strength bought about by the atmosphere generated by the group on the day (we did the ukemi as part of a larger course) and my own history (I found it very helpful to look at pictures of teachers and significant event sin my aikido life in the breaks). This kicked in around 500 and if I dropped out of this into "just Mark" I suffered immediately. Around 2000 I really hit the wall and things seemed to go very quiet. I seemed to be alone in the dojo or not in the dojo at all. Here time was a very different experience and a hundred throws would go my effortlessly. When I dropped out from this way of being again there was an immediate negative effect - several times I couldn't stand when this happened and once I had convulsive cramps that felt a little like being electrocuted by barbed eels. These reserves of strength seem to correlate with egocentric, ethnocentric and cosmocentric worldviews as discussed by Wilber as stages of development.
The personal competitive urge that underpins so much of the Western World was there with Pete, and useful at times as a masculine energizer, but we held it very lightly. In developmental terms this was integrating the competitive achivest (orange) value set with "lets all live in harmony" relativist (green) set. We finished exactly together with the ritualistic support of the group as we wanted it to be about "us."
States
In intense sporting activity altered states are as common as in mystics and drugs addicts (see for example - In The Zone - Murphy and White). Over the course of the day I experienced endorphin highs where the room seemed luminescent and oceanic states of union with my partners and the group. I also felt very connected to Pete most of the day and had a sense of this state and well-being. My intuition is that these are normal states like waking and dreaming that are just easier to access under intense pressure.
The same old pattern emerges
There is a cycle to things in the long and short term. It was no surprise to me that my training started intensely and easily, then peaked, became hard, and then got easier again. It was no surprise that there was an emergency with the venue a few days before or that on the day the last 500 throws would get easier. There is a pattern that reoccurs described in various ways such as in George Leonard's book Mastery of by Jospeh Campnell in the hero's journey. See my article on misogi training here.
Breath
"Keep breathing" was some of the best advice I had! Largely the day was a breathing exercise and attention to this aspect a critical success factor.
IMO Japanese culture is as emotionally repressed English culture so there is little discussion of emotions in the Japanese martial arts. I found however that emotional awareness and management (not repression) was a key sucess factor. Music used skillfully was very useful for the latter.
I experimented with a host of things I thought would help and appart from breathing, and maintaining physical fitness, perhaps the most useful and practical thing was love. I found that keeping connected to a loving feeling (see Paul Linden's Smiling Heart exercise on how to do this) was the most important thing for sustained effort. This may sound a little kooky so I'd ask you to do what I did and experiment - it makes a huge difference. Similarly keeping a sense of humour on the day was vital. Smiling is not a luxury.
The power of mirror neurones to produce empathic states was also vital - if my throwing partners were in certain moods ("Show spirit! Where are your balls! Pretend you're having a good time!") it energised me. This was very tangible as time went on and I got quite fussy about who I wanted to have throw me -this being the main deciding factor beyond technical competence so they could reproduce a clear, confidant form that was easy to follow...which segways into...
Focus
Aikido ukemi requires mental focus - it is sometimes called "moving zen" and daily sitting meditation was also part of my preparation. I find ukemi an easier meditation that sitting practice though as if you stop paying attention you quickly get feedback and negative conditioning (e.g. a smack in the mouth). On the day I was forced to pay full attention for a prolonged period and I also noticed very acutely how attentive my partners were. The more mindful they were the easier it was to go on - their minds helped me up.
Aikido ukemi requires mental focus - it is sometimes called "moving zen" and daily sitting meditation was also part of my preparation. I find ukemi an easier meditation that sitting practice though as if you stop paying attention you quickly get feedback and negative conditioning (e.g. a smack in the mouth). On the day I was forced to pay full attention for a prolonged period and I also noticed very acutely how attentive my partners were. The more mindful they were the easier it was to go on - their minds helped me up.
The night after the event I didn't go comatose from exhaustion as you would expect (despite literally not being able to produce a clear sentence for an hour after finishing) but had a continual awareness throughout my sleep. This "constant witness" state of being asleep but knowing you are, is common in advanced meditators. The only other time I have experienced it was when living in a dangerous environment abroad. I also felt an unusal clarity of mind the next few days and ease of dealing with stressful situations.
Careful who you listen to
Interestingly I received quite a lot of discouragement and criticism before the event - from a sense of British "know your place" repression and projection of all sorts of ego stories onto what we were doing. This backlash against individual achievement is one of my least favorite aspects of British culture and "we're all beautiful snowflakes" mean green hippy shadow. It doesn't matter now.
Lastly - A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL THOSE INVOLVED
Classes on the day were lead by Senseis Steve Beecham (Birankai), David Rubens (Yoshinkan), Quentin Cooke (AADL - ki style), Tom Helsby (independent) and Philip Smith (Aikikai)
