Panic and Pain

I was talking to Teacher before class telling him how I felt.  It felt like the day before tournament.  A mini panic attack induced by adrenaline.  Lots of shallow, rapid breathing.  Of course, as soon as I talked about it I could breath fine.  What a head case I’ve been.  I’m not even sure what’s kept me away for this long, but I’ve been generated plenty of excuses or finding any reason not to go. 

The standard is my wife saying the weather is nice and that we should do something special.  My first impulse is to blow off beatings and hang out in the lawn with her.  Let’s just say that I followed that impulse a lot this summer.

Class is more of the same from the past, but it was awesome to come back and get moving again.  I think I’d been psychologically and physically preparing for the last month or so.  I’ve been back to the gym working out and running more to get my heart squared away.  I found out that it really doesn’t.  Something about waving your hands and feet in the air doesn’t correspond with running a mile every couple of days. 

I had to lay down at the break.  Too much great exercise.

The 2nd hour was katas/hyungs.  The last 15 minutes was sparring.  I love sparring and when I’m doing good I have a hard time describing the feeling of euphoria that overcomes me.  It destroys a good night of sleep because of the adrenaline.  I think it must be the fact that I think I can “handle” myself in a physical situation.  After all the years of class feel like they pay off as it were.

So I’m sparring with older sister and she kicks into my kick and breaks my little toe and then in the next exchange she kicks a divot out of my shin.  

I was immediately angry because this girl has been coming consistently for a year and still doesn’t know how to control her punches and kicks.  We, the class, are guilty of subtly encouraging this because give her nods every time she does something “tough.”  This was meant as an encouragement to the others to be tougher, but we’ve all forgotten that everyone has to develop their inner tough-guy in their own way. 

I’m such a moody bastard.