As you might remember my teacher Ton is back since last week, so we started working on technique again. Due to Tons right arm being injured we focus on my hands this week, which is good, cause i have got lots of holes to fix!
Although i do feel much better already, there are all those little tweaks, just tiny changes in the way you hold your hands, the way you move your hips, the way you move your body and many more that make all the difference. And you can feel the change imediately, you just generate way more power, evereything feels more fluent, it just feels right.
I am trying gradually to become better, stronger and to get more endurance, but you have to find the right amount to make sure not to overtrain yourself, so i will up the doze slowly over the next few weeks. At the moment my training routine looks like this.
I go for a run at 8:30, from 9:00 - 10:00am private lesson, after training run again and sometimes some bag work. If i feel alright i do this 5 times a week, if i feel really weak one day i go 4 times and might just go for a run instead. If i have a good week you might catch me in the fitness gym for 2 times.. but im not a huge fan of weights to be honest.
If you ask yourself why we kick each others legs and noone bothers to check the kicks, thats not because we are stupid.. well maybe i am a little.. but it is to condition and prepare your legs and make them stronger. The next time you get kicked at the same spot it will hurt less.. at least thats what i've been told.. :D
If you see something that i do wrong or that i could do better please let me know.. i'm here to improve .. no hard feelings!
Enjoy the video, sorry Ton for kicking you in the nuts!
"A fight is not won by one punch or kick. Either learn to endure or hire a bodyguard." Bruce Lee
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Crazy Samui - The stuff Horror movies are made of!
This is a guest post from Nike about her "unique" horror movie like experience on the island! Have FUN!
Thank you Nike.
The Pantie (K)nicker
It is 11:30 AM, my alarm discourteously assures me. It feels like I had only just closed my eyes a second ago. The life and times of an insomniatic writer... dysfunctional with the lack thereof, but addicted to the steadfast nostalgia and poetry, that the nights without it brings..sleep. I have only had three or four hours of it, but there is no time to waste.
I slowly attempt to get up from my bed, but instead find myself warring with every single muscle, joint and other, newly discovered, aching parts of my body. The usually accustomed function of movement, suddenly feels very unnatural,painful and involuntary. Muay Thai. I have my next session at 14:00 PM. After comically maneuvering my body from the bed to the shower, into my shiny pink Muay Thai shorts, and behind the wheel of my superannuated Suzuki Jeep, I am ready to face the wrath of my trainer *.
*With other words: Dog-tired, hungry, aching and generally disabled.
I arrive at the WMC gym in Lamai. After a quick brawl with a heavily make-upped lady boy who loudly informs me that parking my ancient vehicle across from his "workplace" scares off his/her customers, I irritably reverse and re park the Jeep on the exact same spot. The Kathoey is satisfied, but my stomach is not.
I pop next door for a protein shake and swallow it down in hasty gulps. Back at the gym,the agony awaits me with a playful grin and a punch to face. "Hello Nike! Today I train you hard! Today I kill you sure! How are you today Nike? " Great. Today I'm great.
By the grace of the gods and excessive application of boxing liniment - (a different kind of savior, but equally praiseworthy) - I manage to navigate my limbs through an hour of what feels like a real life version of Mortal Combat.
My trainer- ( I imagine his "character" to be a fusion of Sub-zero and Liu Kang) is effortlessly engineered by a gaming fundi, who hits the combo buttons on his "controller" repeatedly without even blinking. Me? I'm one of those lame girly characters, chosen for the sole reason of my pink fighter suit, by the gaming fundi's four year old sister, who fails to operate the "controller" at all. K.O.
I arrive home, an agitated muddle of sweat and self- pity, in search of water and absorbed by the magnetic appeal of my bogus green leather couch. I daydream about sleeping..then decide to review last night's attempts of a literary masterpiece*.
* With other words: Unsatisfactory late night scribbling about something that would have made more sense even if written in hieroglyphics by the gaming fundi's four year old sister.
I notice that my laptop is switched off. I know I left it running,I always do, but unannounced power cuts are unofficially indigenous to the island. I think no further of it. It is at this point that I notice it. Someone had pulled out my USB cables and for some bizarre reason tried to plug it back in to the telephone line port..needless to say, it didn't fit.
I am now confused. It is obvious that someone had been tampering with my laptop, but on the other hand, I just entered via my front door moments ago, the padlock still intact and very much locked. I am now confused and baffled, ...and tired still.
I blankly stare across the room...my eyes meet the vengeance of a typical crime scene. Clothes, empty water bottles, wrappers, papers, books, pens, crumbs, coins, pillows, towels and a mangy looking dog, all decorates my floor like abstract installation artwork.
With my better half currently on a different continent, I clean about as often as I sleep. The mystery remains..
In the bedroom I find all my drawers overturned, and as the sudden realization of fowl play sweeps over me, I almost behead myself on the corner of the cupboard as I slip on non other than my useless African passport, and my stash of (much more effective) 1000 Baht notes.
I can understand if my passport did not meet the burglar's standards, but no money taken at all?. The confusion now dominates.
My bed sheets had been ripped off the bed and left in a crumpled heap on the floor, the door leading to outside forced open- locks bent. Peculiar.*
*Note to self: The mangy dog that decorates the floor, is in fact mangy AND useless.
I'm too tired to decipher the just of the situation and decide to call for help. After explaining to the landlady that someone had broken the door, messed up my bed- thrown my valuables on the floor and rewired my laptop, she leaves with the promise of installing a security system and a look of utter bemusement. I convince myself I am the victim of a greenhorn burglar, a poltergeist or a buffoon.
It is not until after I take a shower that I come to face the punch line of the peculiar break in. My underwear. It is gone. All of it. Each and every single piece of garment. Clean,dirty,nylon,cotton,spandex. Gone. I mourn. I mourn for my attire like a mother mourns the death of a child. Somewhere on this island, someone or something is in possession of my precious femme fatale weaponry. I am mourning, I am tired, and I am going commando.
In the early morning hours a rock comes crashing through my window. I look outside,fail to see much since it's dark, sweep the shards aside and collapse on the bed. Sleep. When at long last it arrives, it does so unexpectedly.
Almost a week and a half pass. My recollection of this is a blur of Muay Thai, writing, chicken noodle soup and all night Skype sessions with my lovely. The Pantie (K)nicker, - I shall call him/her so - consigned to oblivion.
There has been no more incidents of any sort and I have given up trying to figure out who the fallen angel with the lingerie fetish might be.
It is 5:30 AM. I have been asleep for about 20 minutes. I hear a cacophonous sound coming from my mobile*. Awake.
*Note to self: If mobile is left on floor with the rest of the decorations, the mangy one with teeth might mistaken it for a chew toy. When the mobile gets chewed by the mangy decoration it will no longer function properly,and most certainly make cacophonous noises when a message is received.
I read the message. It takes me several minutes to register what my eyes are seeing. A text message from an unfamiliar number containing an excerpt from the lyrics to one of my favorite songs. The master of domination strikes again. I am confused,again. Suddenly I hear scratching at the front door. My heart beats faster. Holy egesta, I'm terrified.
More scratching...then a sigh of relief. It is the mangy floor decoration who seeks to exit. I get up and let the dog outside.
As I open the door, I am met by hundreds of colorful little pieces of material, scattered all over the veranda. A kaleidoscopic exhibition of cut up/torn pieces of garment. Clean,dirty,nylon,cotton,spandex. All mutilated, all here, my underwear. I stand in the doorway digesting the horrific sight of my murdered children. I conceptualize ways to return the favor to the Pantie (K)nicker. I lock the front door and go back to bed, and because I am tired, I sleep. *
*Salutation to the Pantie (K)nicker. It's not over.
*Good night.
Thank you Nike.
The Pantie (K)nicker
It is 11:30 AM, my alarm discourteously assures me. It feels like I had only just closed my eyes a second ago. The life and times of an insomniatic writer... dysfunctional with the lack thereof, but addicted to the steadfast nostalgia and poetry, that the nights without it brings..sleep. I have only had three or four hours of it, but there is no time to waste.
I slowly attempt to get up from my bed, but instead find myself warring with every single muscle, joint and other, newly discovered, aching parts of my body. The usually accustomed function of movement, suddenly feels very unnatural,painful and involuntary. Muay Thai. I have my next session at 14:00 PM. After comically maneuvering my body from the bed to the shower, into my shiny pink Muay Thai shorts, and behind the wheel of my superannuated Suzuki Jeep, I am ready to face the wrath of my trainer *.
*With other words: Dog-tired, hungry, aching and generally disabled.
I arrive at the WMC gym in Lamai. After a quick brawl with a heavily make-upped lady boy who loudly informs me that parking my ancient vehicle across from his "workplace" scares off his/her customers, I irritably reverse and re park the Jeep on the exact same spot. The Kathoey is satisfied, but my stomach is not.
I pop next door for a protein shake and swallow it down in hasty gulps. Back at the gym,the agony awaits me with a playful grin and a punch to face. "Hello Nike! Today I train you hard! Today I kill you sure! How are you today Nike? " Great. Today I'm great.
By the grace of the gods and excessive application of boxing liniment - (a different kind of savior, but equally praiseworthy) - I manage to navigate my limbs through an hour of what feels like a real life version of Mortal Combat.
My trainer- ( I imagine his "character" to be a fusion of Sub-zero and Liu Kang) is effortlessly engineered by a gaming fundi, who hits the combo buttons on his "controller" repeatedly without even blinking. Me? I'm one of those lame girly characters, chosen for the sole reason of my pink fighter suit, by the gaming fundi's four year old sister, who fails to operate the "controller" at all. K.O.
I arrive home, an agitated muddle of sweat and self- pity, in search of water and absorbed by the magnetic appeal of my bogus green leather couch. I daydream about sleeping..then decide to review last night's attempts of a literary masterpiece*.
* With other words: Unsatisfactory late night scribbling about something that would have made more sense even if written in hieroglyphics by the gaming fundi's four year old sister.
I notice that my laptop is switched off. I know I left it running,I always do, but unannounced power cuts are unofficially indigenous to the island. I think no further of it. It is at this point that I notice it. Someone had pulled out my USB cables and for some bizarre reason tried to plug it back in to the telephone line port..needless to say, it didn't fit.
I am now confused. It is obvious that someone had been tampering with my laptop, but on the other hand, I just entered via my front door moments ago, the padlock still intact and very much locked. I am now confused and baffled, ...and tired still.
I blankly stare across the room...my eyes meet the vengeance of a typical crime scene. Clothes, empty water bottles, wrappers, papers, books, pens, crumbs, coins, pillows, towels and a mangy looking dog, all decorates my floor like abstract installation artwork.
With my better half currently on a different continent, I clean about as often as I sleep. The mystery remains..
In the bedroom I find all my drawers overturned, and as the sudden realization of fowl play sweeps over me, I almost behead myself on the corner of the cupboard as I slip on non other than my useless African passport, and my stash of (much more effective) 1000 Baht notes.
I can understand if my passport did not meet the burglar's standards, but no money taken at all?. The confusion now dominates.
My bed sheets had been ripped off the bed and left in a crumpled heap on the floor, the door leading to outside forced open- locks bent. Peculiar.*
*Note to self: The mangy dog that decorates the floor, is in fact mangy AND useless.
I'm too tired to decipher the just of the situation and decide to call for help. After explaining to the landlady that someone had broken the door, messed up my bed- thrown my valuables on the floor and rewired my laptop, she leaves with the promise of installing a security system and a look of utter bemusement. I convince myself I am the victim of a greenhorn burglar, a poltergeist or a buffoon.
It is not until after I take a shower that I come to face the punch line of the peculiar break in. My underwear. It is gone. All of it. Each and every single piece of garment. Clean,dirty,nylon,cotton,spandex. Gone. I mourn. I mourn for my attire like a mother mourns the death of a child. Somewhere on this island, someone or something is in possession of my precious femme fatale weaponry. I am mourning, I am tired, and I am going commando.
In the early morning hours a rock comes crashing through my window. I look outside,fail to see much since it's dark, sweep the shards aside and collapse on the bed. Sleep. When at long last it arrives, it does so unexpectedly.
Almost a week and a half pass. My recollection of this is a blur of Muay Thai, writing, chicken noodle soup and all night Skype sessions with my lovely. The Pantie (K)nicker, - I shall call him/her so - consigned to oblivion.
There has been no more incidents of any sort and I have given up trying to figure out who the fallen angel with the lingerie fetish might be.
It is 5:30 AM. I have been asleep for about 20 minutes. I hear a cacophonous sound coming from my mobile*. Awake.
*Note to self: If mobile is left on floor with the rest of the decorations, the mangy one with teeth might mistaken it for a chew toy. When the mobile gets chewed by the mangy decoration it will no longer function properly,and most certainly make cacophonous noises when a message is received.
I read the message. It takes me several minutes to register what my eyes are seeing. A text message from an unfamiliar number containing an excerpt from the lyrics to one of my favorite songs. The master of domination strikes again. I am confused,again. Suddenly I hear scratching at the front door. My heart beats faster. Holy egesta, I'm terrified.
More scratching...then a sigh of relief. It is the mangy floor decoration who seeks to exit. I get up and let the dog outside.
As I open the door, I am met by hundreds of colorful little pieces of material, scattered all over the veranda. A kaleidoscopic exhibition of cut up/torn pieces of garment. Clean,dirty,nylon,cotton,spandex. All mutilated, all here, my underwear. I stand in the doorway digesting the horrific sight of my murdered children. I conceptualize ways to return the favor to the Pantie (K)nicker. I lock the front door and go back to bed, and because I am tired, I sleep. *
*Salutation to the Pantie (K)nicker. It's not over.
*Good night.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
New week, new/old trainer!
Hey guys.
Finally, my trainer is back. Ton was in Malaysia with his brother Tum to film Contender Asia 2 for some weeks, so i had to switch trainers for that period. But i gotta tell you, i am really glad he is back. After our first training session together again i remember why i train with him.
I decided to start recording all my training sessions from now on so i can watch the tapes and see all my mistakes and make sure to get rid of them in time. So don't take this video as a how to, take it more as a how not too, at least for now :) In this video i do some pad work, we always do pad work at the end of our sessions, each round about 5/6 minutes... believe me that is enough! For example, you can see that my hips are still sore and i can't manage to kick properly/that might also be because i just haven't really figured out the right way to do it either. Also when i knee i do not lean back enough and i don't push my toes downward. You might also realise that i don"t throw any right hands, that is because my hand is still sore, i might have to get an x-ray after all...
I will upload some technique videos aswell as soon as i have enough footage.
I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.
~ Bruce Lee
Take care. See you soon!
Finally, my trainer is back. Ton was in Malaysia with his brother Tum to film Contender Asia 2 for some weeks, so i had to switch trainers for that period. But i gotta tell you, i am really glad he is back. After our first training session together again i remember why i train with him.
I decided to start recording all my training sessions from now on so i can watch the tapes and see all my mistakes and make sure to get rid of them in time. So don't take this video as a how to, take it more as a how not too, at least for now :) In this video i do some pad work, we always do pad work at the end of our sessions, each round about 5/6 minutes... believe me that is enough! For example, you can see that my hips are still sore and i can't manage to kick properly/that might also be because i just haven't really figured out the right way to do it either. Also when i knee i do not lean back enough and i don't push my toes downward. You might also realise that i don"t throw any right hands, that is because my hand is still sore, i might have to get an x-ray after all...
I will upload some technique videos aswell as soon as i have enough footage.
I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.
~ Bruce Lee
Take care. See you soon!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Muay Thai - There are two sides to every story
You might walk by a Muay Thai gym one day, look inside and what you see is people punching and kicking each other. You might see people get their legs bruised, their ribs cracked, blue swollen eyes or bloodied up noses. So you might ask yourself why the hell would you do that? Well, take another close look and you will see that there is more to it then people kicking the shit out of each other, it is people helping each other reaching their goals, it is people facing and battling themselves every day, it is about friendships and love for the sport.
Respect all fear none. The gym is no place for a big ego, at least not unless you want to get better. You gotta listen to your trainers and training partners, be open minded to learn new techniques and trust in the changes they make, your game will benefit from it.
"Friendship is one mind in two bodies." Mencius
So next time you walk by a gym don't judge the book by its cover, open and read it!
Take care and don't use your chin for blocking!
Respect all fear none. The gym is no place for a big ego, at least not unless you want to get better. You gotta listen to your trainers and training partners, be open minded to learn new techniques and trust in the changes they make, your game will benefit from it.
"Friendship is one mind in two bodies." Mencius
So next time you walk by a gym don't judge the book by its cover, open and read it!
Take care and don't use your chin for blocking!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Weekly Video from now on!
Hey, so i m back to training again after more then 4 weeks of abstinence. I decided to start a weekly video journal, i hope you like it! Thanks to Nike for handling the camera! Enjoy!
Take care, see you soon!
Manuel
Take care, see you soon!
Manuel
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Deja vu, deja vu!
Well well, i hope you are all doin good out there! How am i doing you ask? I am doin fine, thx. I just came back from a very creative day on the beach. Nike and i went there to spot some locations to do some photo shooting and some filming. The sun was shining, the water was warm and the music was energetic!So how does any of this have to do with deja vu you might ask. Just hold on, i'll tell you in a second. We all had a deja vu in our lifes already, some more some less, but i seriously have them every other day since i am here on Samui, but this one tops them all soo far. I don't even want to go into the details how this all got together, from me coming to Samui, meeting Michael, telling me to buy a camera, starting to take pictures, meeting Marcel, meeting Nike, going to this beach together to spot and take some pictures and i can't even grasp the bigger picture off all the stuff that happened before that, that adds up all to this one point.
So, we are on this beach that Marcel and Nike like to go to have a little drink, you have maybe 5 people passing you in hours. After shooting some pictures and shooting some video i was trying to get a nice view and saw this tree that offered some opportunities to get good angles. I walked up to it but i didn't really like the angle i had, so i walked around it and said. "This is the perfect view." When i walked closer to one of the trees branches there it was, my freakin name carved into the tree. Manuel. I was freaking out for a moment cause i couldn't believe it.
It just shows me once again that i am on the right path and i am lucky enough to receive a message every now and then to encourage me to go on.
I hope you guys have those moments too and then and i guess you freak out like me aswell!
See you soon!
Manuel
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Sak Yant - Traditional Thai Tattoo
Hey!
It has been a few days since my last post but i have been busy these days. As you know i started taking pictures and they turned out to be not that bad. The fact that i am still sidelined doesn't make it less eventfull. My injuries still hold me back to train Muay Thai, so i do weights every other day to keep me busy and in shape.
But enough about training. Today im here to show you my first tattoo. I decided to go with a Sak Yant - a sacred traditional thai buddhist tattoo. My friend Michael got one the other other day and told me about his experience and he got me curious right away.
Michael and i drove to his house and he introduced me. After a few minutes he left and the the ceremony - reading began. It all started by giving him my birth date, with that detail, he started talking about my character, my feelings, my hopes, my strengths, and he was spot on.
I felt my whole life like getting a tattoo, but at the same time i was never sure what to get. I now know why, i was waiting for the right time and for someone to choose the right tattoo for me. I had the choice between putting it on the front near the solar plexus or at the back. The tattoo he chose for me is for balance, confidence, power, protection - an overall lucky charm or he liked to call it "magic"
Getting a Sak Yant is not just about getting a tattoo, it is about thanking your god, your parents all the people that help you and about asking for forgiveness for all the bad things you have done in your life. The people you have hurt or injured and the animals you have killed. It is about cleaning your body from bad luck and emotions and filling it with happiness and to keep your mind in balance.
It is a very unique experience and i feel very lucky that i was able to be part of a ceremonial like this. The monk was praying the whole time, during the tattoing and before and afterwards. I could literally feel the power flowing into my body and all the bad thoughts leaving it.
Looking back at it, it was an amazing and unique way to get my first tattoo and i will never forget the warm and kind hospitality i received from the monk and his family.
The process took about 5 1/2 hours and it cost 7000 Baht. If you think about getting a tattoo in this way i encourage you to do so, you won't regret it.
If you are on Koh Samui and you are looking for a Sak Yant check out the following homepage and ask if you can drop by and get a tattoo.
www.samuisakyan.com
www.spiritbuddha.com
Tel.: 086-9437464
Thanks for reading, have a nice day, see you soon!
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