Kendo Sport Guide: 7 Essential Techniques Every Beginner Must Master

The first time I stepped into a kendo dojo, the scent of polished bamboo and sweat hit me like a physical presence. I remember watching two senior practitioners facing off, their shinai raised in perfect form, the tension so thick you could slice it with a bokken. That moment reminded me of something Meralco coach Luigi Trillo once said about high-stakes competition: "This game mattered. You could see it from both sides how emotional it was." Though he was talking about basketball, the sentiment translates perfectly to kendo - this isn't just a martial art, it's a conversation between warriors where every movement carries weight. After three years of training and competing, I've come to understand that mastering kendo isn't about flashy moves but about building a solid foundation. That's why I believe every beginner should focus on what I call the Kendo Sport Guide: 7 Essential Techniques Every Beginner Must Master.

I'll never forget my first tournament - my hands were shaking so badly I could barely grip my shinai properly. The referee called "Hajime!" and my mind went completely blank, all my training evaporating in that moment of panic. I lost within thirty seconds flat, a humbling experience that taught me more than any victory ever could. That's when my sensei took me aside and explained that kendo isn't about winning, but about perfecting the basics until they become second nature. He estimated that approximately 68% of kendo matches are decided not by advanced techniques, but by who has better mastery of fundamental strikes and footwork. This realization completely shifted my approach to training.

The most crucial technique, in my opinion, is the basic stance called kamae. Many beginners underestimate its importance, but proper kamae affects everything from your striking power to your defensive capabilities. I spent my first month just working on my chudan-no-kamae, the basic middle stance, until my muscles ached from maintaining the position. My sensei would constantly adjust my posture - "Shoulders relaxed, elbows slightly bent, weight evenly distributed" - until the stance felt natural. There's something profoundly meditative about holding that position, your shinai pointed at your opponent's throat, both of you waiting for that split-second opening. This connects back to Trillo's observation about emotional intensity in competition - when you're in proper kamae, you're not just standing, you're communicating intent and readiness.

Footwork, or ashi-sabaki, proved to be my personal challenge. I've always been somewhat clumsy, and the smooth gliding movements required in kendo didn't come naturally to me. I remember spending hours practicing suri-ashi, the sliding step, back and forth across the dojo floor until my feet developed blisters. The key insight came when my sensei explained that in kendo, you should move as if you're floating on water - maintaining constant contact with the ground while minimizing bouncing. This creates that mesmerizing flow you see in experienced kendoka, where they appear to glide rather than walk. I've counted that proper footwork improves striking accuracy by what feels like 40% and defensive responsiveness by even more.

Then there are the four main strikes - men, kote, do, and tsuki. Each requires precise timing, distance judgment, and body coordination. Men, the head strike, was particularly difficult for me to master. I kept either overreaching or telegraphing my movements until my training partner could predict my attacks every time. What finally clicked was understanding the concept of ki-ken-tai-ichi - the synchronization of spirit, sword, and body. When these three elements align, the strike becomes effortless and powerful. I've found that practicing men strikes against a stationary target for at least 150 repetitions daily builds the muscle memory needed for competition situations.

Kote, the wrist strike, requires incredible precision since the target area is quite small. Do, the torso strike, demands proper body rotation to generate power. And tsuki, the thrust to the throat, is the most dangerous technique that many dojos restrict for beginners. Each of these strikes has become like a different vocabulary in my kendo language, allowing me to "speak" more effectively during matches. The emotional intensity that Coach Trillo mentioned becomes palpable when you're exchanging these techniques with a determined opponent - it's a conversation of movement and intention that transcends words.

What surprised me most about kendo was how much of the art lies in what happens between strikes. Zanshin, or remaining awareness, is that moment after an attack where you maintain readiness and posture. Early in my training, I'd score what I thought was a perfect men strike only to have it invalidated because I dropped my guard immediately afterward. My sensei drilled into me that zanshin completes the technique - it's the period where you show control and respect for your opponent even after potentially scoring a point. This awareness extends beyond individual techniques to the entire match, creating those tense, emotional moments that make kendo so compelling to both practice and watch.

The final essential technique isn't physical at all - it's the kiai, the spirit shout. When I first started, I felt self-conscious about shouting during practice, my voice coming out weak and uncertain. But as I progressed, I understood that kiai serves multiple purposes: it projects confidence, disrupts your opponent's concentration, and helps synchronize your breathing with your movements. There's scientific backing to this too - studies have shown that vocalizing during physical exertion can increase power output by up to 10%, though in kendo the psychological impact might be even more significant. The dojo echoes with kiai during intense practice sessions, creating an atmosphere charged with the kind of emotion that Coach Trillo described in his basketball analogy.

Looking back at my journey from that nervous beginner to someone who can now hold their own in tournaments, I realize that these seven essential techniques form the foundation upon which all advanced kendo skills are built. They're not just mechanical movements but interconnected elements that create the beautiful, intense dance that is kendo. The next time you watch a kendo match, notice how the emotional intensity builds with each exchange of techniques - that's the result of countless hours perfecting these fundamentals. And if you're just starting your kendo journey, trust me when I say that mastering these seven techniques will transform not just your practice, but how you approach challenges both inside and outside the dojo.