MSI Press Blog

  When your lungs sound like a kettle on the boil and every attempt at exertion ends in a coughing fit, the dojo goes quiet. But Grandma Ninja doesn’t quit—she adapts. This week, under attack from an upper respiratory infection sliding into bronchtiis, I traded my weights for wall presses, my cardio for controlled exhales. No gym. No sweat. Just breath-aware micro-movements and biomechanical cunning. Isometric holds : Pressing palms into the wall, thighs into a pillow. Muscles fire. Breath stays calm. Seated resistance : Bands looped around ankles and wrists. No huffing, no puffing—just quiet strength. Mental rehearsal : I picture myself lifting, balancing, walking with precision. The body listens. Lymph flow rituals : Legs elevated, ankles circling, fingers tapping. Circulation without chaos. I’ve learned that strength isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s the stillness between coughs, the decision to move gently, the refusal to vanish. I’m not sidelined. I’m training in steal...

  German Although I could speak German, Johanna and I always spoke Russian. Living in the University of Moscow dorms, we both naturally communicated in Russian all day long. So, when we had some together time, staying in Russian seemed natural. Besides, my Russian was better than my German, at that time at least, and Joanna did not speak English. Russian was the most obvious and best lingua franca. I did know how to speak German, however, I had started my study of German with two years of high school study, followed by upper level university courses. As a linguistics major, German was one of the languages I ended up studying to a high level. Then, in graduate school, I majored in comparative literature, with an emphasis on German and Russian literature. I took comprehensive exams in comparative literature and language exams in Russian and German. I lived in Deutsches Haus (German House) in the university dorms, where my roommate, Brigitte, was from Koeln (Cologne), Germany. She, ju...