Throat punching, unlike its cousin throat singing, is neither relaxing or melodic with zen-like sparseness. I found this out while sparring with one of the wonder twins. Apparently, I thought it was technically proficient to block with my adam’s apple. As with many of my technical failure’s in combat I felt a sudden desire to sit down right in the middle of everything because my throat had become the center of the universe.
Somehow I managed to keep it together and push my eyes back into my head and regurgitate the important parts of my throat back into their relative places.
By the next class I was able to make noises similar to an old cat that simply doesn’t have enough lung capacity to meow coupled with a honking squeak.
I ended up not having to teach a full kids class after all. Teacher was able to get back, but when I showed up later he looked completely asleep and couldn’t count to save his life.
Last night was a big blocking night. My forearms look like a rough stretch of road and I can’t set them on anything due to the tenderness.
The computer guy from down the hall poked his head in my office and said, “so I hear a 16 year old girl kicked you ass.” Why is this a repetitive theme in my life? Then he says, “I hear your going to be testing for your Black Belt soon.” How is it that everyone knows this before me?
I take solace in the fact that the I heard that kind of thing for my Brown for a really long time before the test occurred. I’m just not anxious to take that kind of beating anytime soon.
You know things are desperate when there is absolutely no pretense in how you try to control your breathing – just sucking huge breaths, gi completely disheveled, belt around to the side, etc. Not very elegant – that’s me in testing.