January 12, 2007

Blindfolded

The next self-defense I have to learn is against knife attacks and "blindfold." I’m familiar with knife attacks. I spent an hour with an instructor back when I was pregnant going over knife self defense since they were the days of crazy people trying to take your baby. But blindfolded? I asked my instructor about it tonight and it’s as bad as it sounds.

You stand in the middle of the dojo, blindfolded. Other students have numbers and stand around you. The instructor uses hand signals to tell the other students which number goes first and they sneak up on you and attack. Punches and kicks are illegal, obviously, but grabs and holds are all fair game.

I’m not looking forward to it. Going with the whole confidence thing, I decided that I’m not going to show up at the dojo and be blindsided with it. I’m going to practice at home. Big I will probably think it’s a lot of fun if she gets to attack a blindfolded mommy, and my husband will probably think it’s a great opportunity to pinch my butt or something. Should be fun.

The whole idea of it brought back some memories. When I was a freshman in college, I took a Lifeguarding class. I had been a lifeguard for the three previous years and I wanted to renew my certification. So, I took the class and figured I’d knock out a gym credit and get recertified.

Our instructor was named "Betsy" and she was a star swimmer. Her stroke of choice? Butterfly. She was bigger than some of the linebackers on the football team with massive shoulders and very strong arms. She was a little scary to be quite honest.

For part of our test, we had to tread water in the deep end with our eyes closed. She would silently swim up to you and attack. She’d either grab your arm or grab your head and you had to get away from her anyway you could. Training like this prepares you in case someone you’re trying to save from drowning panics and grabs hold of you in a detrimental way. It happens often so you are taught how to fend people off, even punching them in the nose if that’s what it takes. The alternative is to both drown.

We had a lot of guys in our class and I remember treading water with my heart pounding away, terrified of what Betsy was going to do to me. You couldn’t hear her swimming around. The only thing you would hear when she attacked was gulping and choking and some splashing. It was obvious others were not faring well.

When it was my turn, she grabbed around my neck and I tried using the approved methods of getting away from her, much like how you’re taught in karate to get out of a choke hold from behind. When her arms just wouldn’t budge, I reached around back and grabbed a chunk of her hair and let it rip. After all, it felt like life and death. She let go and I passed my test without having to redo the attack portion.

Despite the obvious nerves I’ll have when doing the blindfold portion of testing at the dojo, I think I’ll probably do o.k. If I can succeed in water, land can’t be all that hard, right?