Alright, so I wanted to share a bit about what I’ve been up to with my practice lately. My hands, you know, they just weren’t feeling right. Kinda clunky, and hitting a ceiling with speed and just overall smoothness. It was frustrating, to say the least. I felt like I was just going through the motions without any real improvement.
So, I decided to really dedicate some time to what I’ve gathered about Scott Hardesty’s approach. I’ve seen bits and pieces, heard folks talk about his focus on fundamentals and efficiency, and thought, ‘Okay, let’s give this a serious shot.’ No fancy gear, just me, my trusty practice pad, and a pair of sticks. The plan was to strip everything back.
Getting Down to Brass Tacks
The first thing I did was slow everything down. And I mean, snail’s pace slow. I focused on basic strokes, really trying to understand the mechanics, the rebound, the feeling of a relaxed grip. It sounds simple, right? But man, it was a challenge. My brain wanted to go faster, my muscles had their old habits ingrained.
- I worked on single strokes, trying to get them perfectly even and effortless.
- Then, double strokes – my old nemesis. Again, super slow, focusing on the wrist and finger action.
- Lots of attention to just how the stick felt in my hand, how it moved after hitting the pad.
There were days, especially in the beginning, where I’d finish a session and my forearms would be so tired, but not in a painful way, more like they’d actually done some real, focused work. I kept questioning myself, “Is this even working? Am I just wasting time moving like a turtle?” It’s easy to get discouraged when you don’t see instant results.
The Turning Point
The breakthrough, I think, came when I stopped fighting it and really leaned into the whole ‘relaxation’ aspect. It’s one thing to hear “stay relaxed,” it’s another to actually feel what that means in your hands and arms while you’re playing. I started to notice little tensions I didn’t even realize I had, in my shoulders, my grip, everywhere.
I made a conscious effort to breathe, to let the stick do more of the work. It wasn’t about forcing the notes out, but guiding them. And that’s when things started to change. It was subtle at first. A bit more evenness here, a little less fatigue there.
This is the part where I really felt like I was making progress: I started applying these slow-motion concepts to more complex patterns, some basic rudiments. And because I’d built that foundation of feeling and control at slow speeds, they started to feel… well, easier. More fluid. My diddles, for example, which always sounded a bit like a drunken stumble, began to smooth out.
Where I’m At Now
Look, I’m not claiming to have mastered anything overnight. Far from it. But the difference in my control and endurance is noticeable. My hands feel more connected to what I’m trying to play. There’s a certain confidence that comes from knowing you’ve put in that focused, mindful work.
It’s funny, I always used to chase speed, thinking that was the ultimate goal. But going through this whole process, focusing on the Scott Hardesty type of detailed, slow practice, it made me realize that speed is just a byproduct of good technique and control. It’s not the other way around. You can’t just force speed. It has to come from a place of efficiency.
So yeah, that’s been my journey so far. It’s ongoing, of course. Practice never really ends, does it? But it’s been a really valuable experience, and it’s definitely changed how I approach warming up and working on my technique. If you’re feeling stuck, maybe going back to the very, very basics, super slow, isn’t such a bad idea. It certainly helped me clear some cobwebs.
