Why Your Kendo Students Aren’t Improving (Easy Fix)

The False Promise of Perfect Reps

Ever watched your students drill flawless men-uchi five times in a row, only to get steamrolled the moment jigeiko starts?

Yep. Same.

They’re gliding through kihon like clockwork—crisp strikes, clean lines, textbook form. But then comes real movement, a bit of unpredictability, and suddenly it’s chaos. They hesitate, miss the moment, get countered.

Some of them look like someone swapped their shinai for a spoon and forgot to tell them. (Except Brian. Brian still thinks he nailed it.)

And you sit there wondering: What the hell have we been doing all this time?

So, coach, what do we do? Focus on fitness? Add more reps and hope something eventually clicks?

I’ve asked myself all of that. But the more I pored over the research—especially the latest stuff on skill acquisition—the more I’ve started to realise: it’s not the reps that are the issue. It’s the type of reps. If there’s no context, the learning just doesn’t stick.

When Kihon Stops Making Sense

Drills can look great on the surface. Clean strikes, solid footwork, confident posture. It all adds up to what looks like progress.

But then comes jigeiko, and everything falls apart. Openings are missed. Attacks get jammed. People freeze or flail...or both. And it’s not because they’re lazy, or unfit, or not trying. They just haven’t learned how to take what they’ve practised and actually use it in the chaos of a fight.

So, this question—why doesn’t it transfer?—sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole. I started digging into what really helps people learn to perform under pressure. And that’s how I came across Ecological Dynamics.

Sounds fancy. But it’s really not. The core idea is this:

People don’t improve by running the same cut over and over. They improve by learning how to adapt—to timing, spacing, different opponents, pressure, the works.

Once you start to see that, the pieces fall into place. Drills without context might look tidy, but they rarely hold up when things go 'live'. Its why so many students look amazing in isolated drills but hesitate the moment the rhythm breaks.

Basically, if training doesn’t prepare them for that shift, it’s not really doing its job.

Which got me wondering… what should practice actually look like if we want students to be more prepared?

That’s when I realised: if I wanted those reps to matter, I needed to start painting them a picture—of the actual fight. If students can’t see the fight—if they don’t know what moment they’re preparing for—then the reps don’t land. They might know how to cut, but not when, or why. And to help them make those connections, I needed a better way to build context into my sessions.

How to Start Painting Pictures

So, that’s where I ended up going back a bit to the old PE literature, of all places. Bunker and Thorpe (1982) laid out this deceptively simple framework that still holds up beautifully. It’s called REST, and it pairs really nicely with the ideas in Ecological Dynamics.

It’s become a bit of a go-to filter for me when I’m designing sessions. Here’s what it stands for:

Representation – Does this feel like a real fight?
Exaggeration – Can we stretch the thing we’re focusing on so it’s easier to notice?
Sampling – Are students getting exposed to different versions of this?
Tactical Complexity – Are there decisions involved?

I know...“Representation,” “Sampling,” “Tactical Complexity”… it sounds like something from a teacher training seminar, not a dojo. But stay with me. These four ideas are surprisingly practical once you strip the jargon away. I use them like a checklist: Does this feel like a fight? Are there decisions? Is there variety? Are we exaggerating the right thing? That’s it. No clipboards required.

The Problem Isn’t Repetition. It’s Predictability.

To be clear, I don’t think we need to ditch repetition. Not at all. What we need is what, ecological dynamics researcher, Karl Newell called “repetition without repetition.” You keep the goal the same, but you change the context around it.

So instead of men-uchi x5 with no pressure, its more a case of delivering the set like this:

“You’re in daihyo-sen. Next ippon wins. Ten seconds to go. Go!”

It’s still a cut. But suddenly, it means something.

And you can build that kind of context in so many simple ways. Here are a few I’ve found useful:

Representation: I’ll say things like, “You’re the chuken, your team’s one down.” Then let them do a single strike. No do-overs.
Exaggeration: Sometimes I’ll offer double points for nidan-waza, or give them ten seconds to get an ippon. Changes the energy.
Sampling: Mix up the partners. Use size mismatches. Throw in different kamae. Have someone act as shimpan. Small changes, big difference.
Tactical Complexity: One I like is kote practice where motodachi sometimes opens, sometimes doesn’t. Now you’re working on reading cues, not just following orders.

These little changes don’t need a full session overhaul. But they do shift the vibe. Students stay more present, and importantly, their cuts have intention. They start recognising when not to go, which I reckon is just as important.

A Quick Note While You’re Here

If this post is hitting a nerve—like when your students look great in drills but unravel the moment things get real—then you might find this handy: I’ve put together a full session plan built for beginners and mixed-level groups.

It’s simple, flexible, and designed to actually keep people engaged (including you). Perfect for those nights where you’ve got ten minutes to plan, three different ability levels, and a vague sense of dread. Click here to get the free session plan. Heads up: you’ll also get a few more ideas like this from me now and then— no big theory dumps, just practical stuff that helps your trainings click a bit faster.

From Drills to Duels

At the end of the day, coaching kendo isn’t about loading people up with more technique. It’s about helping them use what they already know, especially under pressure. That’s the difference between drilling a movement and winning an exchange.

The point I want to drive home here is this: training kihon shouldn't just be about the mechanics. Equal importance needs to go to the purpose underpinning the reps. The when and why of the technique. Because every time someone flails in jigeiko after breezing through drills, it’s usually not about effort or fitness. It’s that they haven’t made the connection. They don’t see how the drill fits into the mess.

And if they can’t see it, they can’t use it.

So maybe the next time you're running kihon, the key question to ask is: what fight am I preparing them for today?

Sources & Additional Reading

Davids, K., Araújo, D., & Shuttleworth, R. (2008). Acquiring skill in sport: A constraints-led perspective. International Journal of Sport Psychology, 39(3), 235–261.
Bunker, D., & Thorpe, R. (1982). A model for the teaching of games in secondary schools. Bulletin of Physical Education, 18(1), 5–8.