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European Jodo Champion
Jodo 3 dan
When and where did you start Jodo training?
I started practicing in Warsaw in 2010 at the now-defunct Tenshinkan Dojo.
Why did you start practicing Jodo?
Before I began practicing Jodo, I had been training in aikido for several years. Part of the training included buki-waza, but it felt somewhat neglected; I thought it was too little and too superficial. I wanted something more, and then, by chance, I met Grzesiek Puchawski, who appeared at our training a few times. From him, I learned that Jodo (and iaido) could be practiced at the mentioned Tenshinkan Dojo. I went there shortly afterward, and Grzesiek became my first Jodo teacher.
Describe your typical Jodo training session.
Today, it definitely looks different than it used to; I had a several-year break from training, and when I returned to Jodo, I ended up leading training sessions at my current dojo. I try to tailor them to the individuals practicing, which is possible since we are a small group. We practice kihon, tandoku, and sotai dosa, adjusted to the kata we are focusing on at the moment, and then we practice kata. Since I don't have a permanent teacher, I try to pass on what I learn during trips.
Describe the first European Championships you participated in. Share your impressions from that competition.
My first European Championships took place in 2011 in Stevenage. It was very exciting for me, as it was my first trip of this kind. I felt a bit out of place because I had only been practicing Jodo for about a year, and I hardly knew anyone. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect and didn't fully understand how I ended up there. I don't remember the competition details clearly; it was 12 years ago, but I recall being impressed by the organization and the skill of the competitors. As a mudansha, I was deeply convinced that the level displayed by the yudansha was far beyond my reach.
Which moment from the championships stands out the most in your memory?
The final in the mudan category; my opponent was Paulus Artimo from Finland, and my tachi was Adam Bieniak. I don't remember the fight well, just that we were required to perform the first three kata, but the match itself blends into a single image of tunnel vision, where nothing else mattered at that moment. After the bow and the announcement of the result (3-0; I don't recall who the main judge was, but the other judges were Jock Hopson Sensei and Chris Mansfield Sensei), I remember Adam giving me a wink, and Łukasz Machura, as the team coach, nodding and smiling. I personally didn't quite grasp what had just happened.
Do you have any proven methods for dealing with stress during competitions?
I believe there isn't a one-size-fits-all solution. I simply try to focus on what is happening in the moment, not thinking about anything else; during the match, everything around me ceases to exist—people, judges, the opponent, and what will happen next. It's just me, my tachi, and the kata we are performing to the best of our ability. I approach exams in the same way.
The biggest stress factor is probably the awareness that we are being observed and judged; thoughts like, "What if I make a mistake, trip, or someone notices? It will be embarrassing." Someone who is shy or lacks self-confidence may struggle with this. I felt the same way at first, but over time, I came to conclusions that made stress essentially a non-issue for me. I want to emphasize that this is just my perspective, and I know there are people who think differently. However, I believe that medals and results are not of such great importance and definitely should not be the goal in themselves, as I don't see Jodo as a sport but something more. Therefore, competitions are not something worth stressing over.
Additionally, competitions do not objectively assess our skills in the same way that exams do, where we are actually evaluated based on our level. In a taikai, we are compared to another person who happens to be our opponent. It can happen that we lose to someone who objectively performs the kata worse because our tachi stumbled at a critical moment when there was nothing we could do about it. Is that our fault? So, is there any point in stressing over it? We need to do what we can, as best as we can. And if we happen to win in the process, that's great—then we can enjoy that moment, of course, but afterward, we should put the medal away and continue training.
What is the most demanding aspect of Jodo for you?
Understanding the depth that Jodo has. Despite my relatively long practice, because of my break I’m still at a low level, and practically every trip, every meeting with a teacher is another revelation for me—breaking down my technique into pieces and rebuilding it from scratch. I remember how not long ago I thought I more or less understood hikiotoshi, and then at one seminar I heard that “my technique is fundamentally wrong” and I had to learn it all over again. And that’s only the physical aspect of the discipline, and only within the scope of ZNKR. That’s just a small fragment of the surface above the depth I can’t even imagine. The awareness of that depth is what makes Jodo so demanding, and at the same time, so wonderful.
Present your competitive achievements in Jodo at the European Championships and other tournaments.
My biggest success was the gold medal in mudansha in 2011 in Stevenage; apart from that I was also in Brussels in 2012, but without success. I also managed to win a few individual medals at the Polish Championships, but I don’t remember the exact details.
What goals do you set for yourself today?
To return, as much as possible, to more regular participation in seminars, both in Poland and abroad, in order to gain more and more knowledge and understanding of this art. To pass the next examinations (from a purely practical point of view, so as not to always be in that group at the end of seminars where you only practice the basics). And above all—to train and learn as best as I can.
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