August 24, 2006

In the Beginning

Big I and I attended a different class than our usual one this week due to some scheduling conflicts. I was very pleasantly surprised to see two brand new students who were attending their first class together. The most exciting part is that the two new students were a father and his son who couldn’t have been more than five years old.

Our dojo used to be filled with parent/child duo’s or trio’s. That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. I’m usually the oldest one by a good ten years or so, and I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to see a new ADULT in the dojo. I wanted to go and hug him, but I thought that might be a bit awkward. It might scare him away, and I certainly DO NOT want that. It’s nice to not be the only one throwing punches and kicks at a 5-year old.

In the intermediate class, I was high rank. The next closest rank to me were some very little yellow belts. Because it was the new duo’s first class, our instructor kept the lesson plan pretty basic. We did lots of punches, kicks, and bag work. We also did some basic self defense, wrist grabs to be exact. Along with the honor of being high rank in class, also comes the responsibility of becoming a human pretzel on command. I’m getting pretty good at the whole human pretzel thing.

Thankfully, this weeks demonstration did not involve me hitting the ground with force. Instead, this week was all about twisting my arm behind my back and using different joint locks to make me instantly sink to the ground. I’ve always suspected it, but this week it was revealed for sure. I think my instructor (who now reads AND commented on this blog) takes a certain type of pleasure in making people drop like flies. It’s never done in a malicious way, just a matter-of-fact, this-is-how-its-done, "you’re going down" type of way. I can’t wait until I can make someone drop like that without even thinking about it. Right now, my brain just completely interferes. It’s like I have a little gi-wearing master sitting on my shoulder saying, "Not like that Stupid!", "You know bad guys aren’t going to give you a second chance," etc. etc. I can’t wait until I get better and can just shut down the little gi-wearing conscience that chips away at my confidence.

I remember my first week at karate, now over two years ago. I learned a simple way to get out of a wrist grab and a couple punches and kicks. I left the dojo ready to take on the WORLD. I felt downright bad. I oozed a "Don’t mess with me" demeanor. At the time I was taking class with my neighbors and their daughter as well. After class, we would usually go out to eat or pick up pizza. I remember walking into restaurants wearing my gi thinking I was so damn cool, thinking that people must be afraid of me, of us, our little gang of white belts. Of course, we never wore our white belts anywhere. We’d let them all wonder. Were we black belts? Brown? Green? And then I found out what everyone was really wondering. . .

"Do you work in nursing?"

What a way to blow a perfectly healthy ego!

I found myself thinking about the journey so far as I drove home this week. It seems funny to me that I think I had more confidence back when I was a lower rank. It seems that the more you learn, the more inadequate you can start to feel.

It also doesn’t help that in my advanced class, we did a black belt kata that the new black belts need for 2nd degree black belt. I believe it was called "Chinto" but a more appropriate name would have been something like "In San Ity". It’s a kata that is done in a straight line, back and forth. Our instructor said to imagine you are fighting on a narrow bridge over a waterway, or on the narrow patch of land between rice paddies. To me, it seemed more like log rolling or something. It was really difficult. At one point, all three black belts did what I think they called a "knee kick" which simply put is just a throw-yourself-in-the-air-with-both-legs-eloquently-flailing-at-ridiculous-heights-and-land-ready-to-attack. All three black belts defied gravity as I watched in awe, sort of hopped a few steps and said, "Yeah, I’ll meet you on the other side." They would have waited I think, but that’s a move I’ll need some private time with before revealing in a public forum.

Our instructor told me and "thatblackbeltchic" (who is also reading and commenting on my blog) that we need to quit saying things like "That wasn’t very good" and other self-deprecating phrases that we both use on a regular basis. Although it will be hard, especially considering I’m the gal who apologizes during sparring for actually landing a hit, I’m going to work on that. Maybe if I act the part, I’ll start to feel it and my karate will improve. I’m going to try to stop putting myself down and start acting like I know what I’m doing (even if I don’t). It may be an issue of the chicken and the egg. What comes first? Being good at karate, or thinking you are good which turns into a self-fulfilling prophecy?

I’ll let you know how it works out.