Frisson of Fear

Last night was my second class in a row for the first time in about four months.  I've been pretty excited about returning regularly.  The excitement is derived from fear and enthusiasm.  I'm 46 and I notice that I get anxious about potential injury.  I don't mind the little aches and pains, but the larger things are taking longer and longer to heal.  

About 6 months ago Teacher used me in a demo of an unusual throw.  Instead of taking the slap I reached out and jammed my shoulder painfully.  Three months of rehab and sporadic class attendance has me almost at 100%.  

So in the back of my mind I have a lurking concern that I have to be careful or I'll be laid up for some indeterminate time.  This concern was mirrored by one of the Blackbelts at my test.  He no longer comes because his training was to be full on all the time.  At his age it meant that he was getting more and more injured.  So now he avoids class and focuses on other endeavors.  

The other half is my excitement.  Every time I don't go I feel as though my fragile retention of skills are degrading.  Plus I need exercise or the doctor looms in my background.  

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Teacher called me up on Wednesday and sounded horrible.  He got the local bug and I volunteered to help out as much as possible.  So last night I showed up before the kids to get ready and he showed up anyway.  He was able to lead the class, but left the calling and counting to Cherub.  My job was to quiet the rambunctious and correct feet and hands.  

He left shortly after the adult class started and I finished things out.  
We have three new ladies in class.  Two high school girls and one Jr. High gal.  All of them talented and focused.  Very nice addition.

On the way out Trucker and I caught up since we hadn't seen each other in about a half a year.  He had been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure.  He's not even very heavy, but he sounded very down about the changes he wasn't going to have to make in his life.  

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