This is the oldest lion head in NYC, up on a wall in the secret association. It weighs about three times as much as the new heads, which are mostly paper and epoxy. The old ones were steel wire, lots of paper and glue, and wooden supports. Thinking about those who had to keep it hoisted over head for an entire day of dancing leaves me awestruck, and explains the incredible shoulders and necks of the people I know who practice this art.

This is the newer style Lion head. Awesomely decorated and functional.

The ears, brows and eyelids all move and are an important part of the dance. As the lion dances around the offering, its facial expression changes, very carefully, and that’s where all the moving parts come in. They’re controlled by these things:

Little pulleys and flaps and switches. Fun to pull on, but eerie how they bring the big head to life so realistically, and easy to see why the ritual has lasted for millennia.

I felt a little out of place up in the association that morning. Firstly, I was the only white guy. I’ve been in that situation many times, having spent years as a racial minority for most of my 20s, but it had been a while since I was completely immersed like that. Lots of conversations happened all around me that I couldn’t pick apart, the fast South Chinese dialects whizzing by my ears like bird songs. So I just knelt around, huddling my coffee, observing everything, loving every minute.

The youth of the place were all excited, practicing moves, showing off lion dance steps and aerials. Most lion dancers practice kung fu, and many of the moves are the same.

For many of these guys and girls, this is one of the most stable parts of their lives– the training and performing– they’ve been doing it, and doing it together, since childhood. They grow up in their own ways, moving away and around, going onto and down their different paths in life, but the Association and training bring them and keep them together for the rest of their lives.

Many of the younger performers are high school drop outs, some are working, but most are trying to make ends meet with a combination of street skills and family resources. But the one constant in their lives is training, and that’s a language and attitude and belief system I understand perfectly.

If you train enough, and get to your best possible state, everything else will just fall into place. I count on that being true, and I believe it is. If I lacked that belief, I probably wouldn’t even be alive any more.

A highlight of the morning for me was taking a rest in the association office. The walls were covered with pictures of the different lion dance troops over time. Decades and generations of groups all from the same association, having practiced and trained in the same building, the one I was standing in. The sweat-pounded carpeting of the training floor reminded me of my Sanda days at TiYu in Beijing and it filled me with melancholy. How recent, yet how long ago those days were. How near, yet how far they really are from the way things are now. It made me remember how my best friend from those days and I would stack into one of those small Beijing taxis, the ones that are illegal in post-Olympics Beijing, and with his small boombox playing My Dying Bride or Pantera or Cradle of Filth, we’d get psyched up on our way to Shi Cha Hai for a full day of obsessive, joyous, and occasionally wondrous training.

The office in the Association, there in Chinatown NYC, was dingy and crammed with multiple lifetimes of things and was fantastic. There were yellowing certificates and awards from the 50s and 60s and on and up through the last couple of years. There were giant vats of herbal medicine, saggy old couches an old TV with VCD players connected, old hot plates and tea pots on old shelves with the paint chipped mostly away, old books and charts of pressure points on the walls, and pictures everywhere. The scene was straight from the Mainland, and it was a nice scene indeed.

The son of the master of the association was in the office, wearing sunglasses that he never took off. We chatted quickly about training and I said I liked the place, and the association. He said something like “oh, is that so” and the conversation was over. I didn’t mind. I was just happy to have been able to get in that far and I don’t blame him. We made eye contact throughout the rest of the day and we’re cool.

From the office, we headed out.

The thing I’ll always like about this picture is that in the background it shows the tall building I’ve been spending increasing amounts of time in and around lately.

It was seemingly quiet out front. But one block away…

Intense amounts of people readying for the lions.

Different troops and schools and associations and clubs all come out for this, with their drums, with their lion heads, with their pride and loyalties, and they march around. It’s an amazing spectacle.

I was lucky enough to be able to march around practically within the troop I was invited to hang out with. There were a few times it got weird, such as when we all went right into giant dim sum restaurants and paraded around, thrilling the Chinese patrons who held out red envelopes filled with lucky money, and disturbing the white patrons who were probably just there to eat and had no idea that today was not a day for mere eating.

 

We paraded through all of Chinatown. Into the secret malls, down through the underground passage ways where people sell home grown soybeans, across Mulberry and Mott, down Canal and more. Around and up, down and around, pats on the back, red envelopes stuffed in my pockets. I was dressed all in black with sunglasses on, trying to blend in as just a walking, anonymous camera.

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Incidentally, the new Limmers performed well. Even with just a day or two of breaking in, the Light Weights were ready for a full day marching around, and at the end, as the first creases were starting to form, like the binding a of a new book which you’ve finally dived into, I saw their color had darkened, and that put a smile on my face.

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Busy week. Tonight I have Devin Townsend and Gojira playing in Williamsburg, which means getting a whole lot done between now and about 6p.

No training today as I swam for 60 minutes last night after The Routine. Physically, I feel really good, really strong. I’m 195lbs, which is the almost the heaviest I’ve ever been, and I’m also lean. I used to think a 195lbs lean daily weight was my ideal, but lately I’m tempted to add another 5lbs. It’ll be nice and whole.

Many of you guys ask for my training details and other things. There’s no secret here.

Current stats:

• 6′, 195lbs
• 10k (6.2 mile) run: 0:37:07
• 1 mile swim: 0:24:16
• Consecutive pull ups: 27
• Consecutive pushups: 94
• Consecutive situps: 203

The Routine:

Daily: 30 minutes of either running or swimming at 80% max heart rate.

• 20 (sets) x 25 (reps) pushups
• 10 x 10 pull-ups
• 10 x 15 slow leg raises
• 2 x 100 flutter kicks (on a four count)
• heavy bag routine