A Compliment I’m Taking
My Dad isn't exactly the best at compliments. Like on my wedding day for example, he said to me, "I didn't know you could look that beautiful." Hmm, that got me to thinking a bit. It was sort of a back-handed compliment, but considering my compliment history with my Dad, whatever. I'll take it.
He also says things like this: "Boy, you look nice in that shirt, but your arms are really moley." Freaking fantastic. I spent an entire 4th grade night at Disney World begging my Mom to buy me a sweatshirt so I could cover up my arms and avoid making people run in horror from my chocolate chipped arms. When he said I was being ridiculous about it, I just crossed my arms and used my hands to cover up as much of my arms as possible. I'm like that in every picture my Dad took that night. It was one of those nights that scarred me for the teenage years, but he still says I'm too dramatic about it.
He's also not very good at apologizing. Truth be told, I'm not either. But my Dad's apologies tend to go something like this: "I'm sorry I told you that your arms are moley. . . but your arms are moley." They never quite feel like apologies.
That's why what happened tonight came as a total shocker.
Tonight my Dad came into the dojo to watch Big I during her ju-jutsu class and, more importantly, to keep an eye on Lil C while I trained upstairs with Ax Kick-Eric. At one point he came upstairs while Ax-Kick-Eric and I were working on some open hand bunkai. I heard Lil C saying she wanted to stand closer to Mommy and I heard my Dad say, "This is the closest we're going to get." I was busy at the time, trying to make a throw work on Ax-Kick-Eric.
After we were finished doing that, I showed my Dad my kobudo bunkai. When I was finished he said to Lil C, "That's why you better behave when you get to dating age." I laughed and said, "Why do you think I train so hard?"
Soon though, I could tell my Dad was ready to go home so I packed it up and he said goodbye to the girls. He didn't wait for me to walk out, so I just figured he'd go home and make fun of me or tell my Mom how silly karate was; because over the past few years, I've felt an undertone of him not quite understanding why I was so into the martial arts.
Then I got a phone call from my Mom. "Your Dad says you look like a black belt!" she said. I had to pick my jaw off the floor to ask her to say that again. I heard right and there wasn't even any extra commentary like "for a girl with moley arms" or anything. "Yeah," she said, "he said 'Wow, BBM is really good at karate. She looks like a black belt."
Total shocker, but that is one compliment I'm going to gladly take, keep, and remember always.
A Serious Case of the Sillies
Last night at the dojo, it was just one of those nights. Although I've been fairly serious about my training for the past few weeks, last night I was tired and everything was cracking me up. I wasn't the only one with the problem.
When the advanced class started, our teacher asked us what we wanted to do. I made the unfortunate mistake of saying I was "up for anything minus break falls and roll falls." I was thinking open hand or kobudo. I wasn't thinking 30 minutes of kicking.
We have this young green belt who loves competition and loves kicking. She also likes doing kata with her eyes closed but that's another story. In attendance was the young green belt, our instructor, two 20-something black belts, me and a 40-something 1st kyu.
With the black belts on one side of the floor and me and my brown belt buddy on the other side, we started doing some kicking drills. We started with simple snap kicks and thrust kicks. Then it was crescent and roundhouse. We did some knees and heel-butt which are more like hell-butt kicks when I have to use my left leg. There seemed to be a disproportionate amount of intensity from the black belt side of the dojo, while the other 1st kyu and I debated about whether or not it would be acceptable for us to hold onto the wall in the back of the training floor so as not to fall over.
I used to love kicking. It was one of my favorite things to do. Post knee-injury? Not so much. I'd rather watch four hours straight of Star Wars than do kicking drills; and if you know me and my deep and established dislike of Star Wars, then you know how much I want to avoid kicking.
Every time we thought we had exhausted all the types of possible kicks, our teacher, the green belt or one of the black belts would come up with another type of kick, which is why one of those black belts will forever retain the nickname "Ax Kick Eric" from now on.
After 20 minutes of straight kicking, when your leg protests full extension, one is not too happy to hear the words "ax kick." I thank you "Ax Kick Eric" for those ax kicks last night and so do my ailing leg muscles; and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible.
I announced to my 1st kyu friend that I would be pretending I was fighting a midget for this round of kicks; and then we made helpless faces at each other in the mirror until we were finished.
Finally, after 4000 types of kicks, the young green belt says she wants to have a kicking contest. I said we should forgo the contest and just name her the grand champion. Although I think she was sort of satisfied with that, I really think she wanted the pride of knowing she had beaten up on the ailing brown belts a bit more than having us just hand over a title.
I do have to say I learned an important lesson last night though. When your teacher looks directly at you and asks what you want to do. . . you better be specific, VERY specific.
The Dojo Family
I am frequently asked how a beginner should go about choosing a dojo. I've written about it in the past and you can find those tips here. But while you can certainly research the lineage of a style, hang around for a couple classes to observe and ask people who go there and who've gone there in the past, there's really no way of knowing if the people at your dojo are going to be merely people you see a couple times a week while you train, or if they'll become more than that-part of your dojo "family."
I consider myself extremely fortunate to train at an awesome dojo with a great dojo family. While the green belts and above obviously spend more time together, there seems to be no separation between ranks when it comes to helpful attitudes and friendliness.
A couple weeks ago, I organized a hibachi dinner followed by dessert back at my house afterward and the guest list kept growing. The amazing thing about everyone is that we have a drastic age range but it doesn't seem to matter. We have the single 20-something guys, the married 30 and 40 year old crew, and our instructors whose ages will remain quiet because I'd like them to still talk to me.
I've heard of dojos where the instructors won't associate with the students outside of the dojo, but in our dojo, that's simply not the case. Our hibachi dinner a few weeks ago ranged from 1st kyu brown belt up to 9th degree black belt; and we had a blast. I hope our next event (we're thinking tiki bar) will be even more well attended than last time. (I seem to have become the social coordinator so I better get on that before I lose my role.)
Now that I am back and my knee is feeling strong, I am even more grateful for my friends at karate. I truly do believe that they helped get me through my injury. I looked at one of our green belts who was going through chemo and still coming to the dojo each week; and I thought, "Wow, if he can come back, I can come back too." He's now cancer free, on the verge of becoming a brown belt, and serves as a training inspiration to us all.
When I was having a particularly rough time after my surgery and feeling like I would never feel better, I had a visit from a dojo friend that gave me new determination and motivation to get better. Simply being around these people makes you want to be better and work harder.
During my time away, I kept in touch by being in the dojo from time to time and via email. Before I came back and during my first few weeks, there were times when I felt like leaving karate was going to be my only option. It felt unnatural and like I was taking an unnecessary risk with my newly reconstructed ACL. But one of the main things that kept me going is that I didn't want to lose that connection with the people who've gone beyond being my training mates-they're my friends.
Last night, I worked with four different people on various bunkai I've been working on. Each one of them helped and contributed in a different way and I've been more than happy to help them right back. We seem to have an incredible group dynamic where everyone just wants everyone else to succeed and get better at what we're doing. The competitive aspects that you sometimes hear about between individuals don't seem to exist in our dojo.
So what's the point of this post, other than to put something up because I've had some serious writer's block lately? I guess it's to say "thank you" to all my training friends at the dojo. I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for your help.
Raising Opposites
On karate nights, Mr. BBM will often paint with the girls. They use water colors and they really look forward to painting with Daddy. I got home after the girls were in bed and Mr. BBM showed me what they had created tonight.
Mr. BBM: (Shows me Big I's painting) "This is a girl and over here it says something about a garden."
Me: "It looks like 'In the Garden, Oh So Beautiful.' Nice!"
Mr. BBM: "Yeah something like that."
Mr. BBM: "Here is Lil C's."
Me: "Hmm, what's that?"
Mr. BBM: "Um, she said that is a dead girl."
Me: "Great."
This is why you should really be careful when you name your children. Big I's name means "consecrated to God." Lil C's? "Prophetess of Doom."
Yep, I'd say it fits.
How To Tell If You’ve Overdone It At the Gym-Legs Edition
1. When you sink into cat stance at karate, you nearly have an unintentional seat on the floor.
2. When you try to get up from a kneeling position and find yourself going nowhere unless you push off with your hands.
3. You hold it as long as possible because the sitting and standing to go to the bathroom is damn near impossible.
4. For only the second time in your life, you truly wish you had been born a guy and could stand to pee (Totally agree with you on this one Sarah!).
5. You need to hold onto both railings with a death grip to even consider making it down the stairs without sitting and scoothing down like little kids.
6. When you have to literally pick each leg up to get in and out of the car. (This one is courtesy of Patrick Parker and I couldn't agree more.)
7. When you realize you forgot to brush your hair and the brush is upstairs, and you decide you can simply live without brushing your hair for one day (OR when the stairs seem like you're climbing Mt. Everest-courtesy of Angelica.)
8. When you realize you're walking like one of those big barrel-chested guys at the gym and it looks as though someone has shoved a bo up your butt as a new spine.
9. When you walk in the dojo thinking you're walking as close to normal as possible considering the world of pain you're experiencing and everyone asks you "What's wrong?"
10. You realize that the whimpering and whining you thought was your kids, is actually you, unconsciously whimpering with pain every time you expect your legs to carry you anywhere.
Check out The BBM Review for a giveaway just in time for Memorial Day weekend!
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