Down Time

I skipped beatings last night. I had to work late at the second job and by the time I finished dinner class had already started. That and the pain up and down my left side didn't feel very motivational. If it sounds like I'm making excuses - I am. Everytime I laugh it hurts and when I rolled over in my sleep last night I woke myself up from discomfort. Nice. I'm so tough.

Groin

The tell-tale ping of muscle hitting it's threshold and locking up painfully surprised me in the middle of a half-assed attempt at a cool down stretch. Mind you, this wasn't a power stretch into a japanese split, but a simple one vaguely reaching down to a knee. On top of that I was fairly warmed up. Groan.

After a week off of everything due to work I decided to go to the gym for a circuit class to knock the dust off as it were. I've had a groin/inner thigh problem for about a year or so that I thought would heal on it's own. No luck.

So the RT says I have to stretch for 30 seconds every hour for two weeks; barring sleep of course. I'm now at work with legs out. After two days it does seem quite a bit better. I guess the educated folks in medical land can actually help sometimes.

M. Jordan

A long time I ago I was listening to a NPR story and I heard this guy talk about his experience playing basketball in a evening. He was short and fat knew he would never play in the NBA, however he related that at one point in his life, for one evening, for every shot he took, it was if the hoop was 12 feet wide. He would take his shots and turn to run without evening looking because he knew they were going in. He described is as to how Micheal Jordan must have felt every time he played.

I felt that way last night in a Karate way. We were practicing a lot of randori and focus drills and I was on fire. Every choice I took was quick, focused and even the others in class were murmuring about how good I looked.

However to every great thing there must be balance so with all my enthusiasm I ended up spraining my thumb (again) and covered myself in some serious bruises. I didn't even feel any of it during the evening. I noticed the thumb on the drive home when I tried to put the key into the ignition and start the car. Yow. This morning I noticed that I looked like a spousal abuse case.

20 Ways

Not very many people last night. This can potentially be a really great night because it means that the class is like private lessons or it can mean that the night will stretch on for some endless amount of time if Teacher is uninspired. We warmed up on our own and bowed in informally. I was partnered with new kid who moves quickly and ends up causing a lot of pain. To develop our kinesic sense Teacher Slim turned out the lights and we did Rondori for about 15 minutes. Rondori is the slowed downed sparring designed to get the practitioner to focus on technique, balance and such. In the dark you have to focus on contact with your partner so you know when they are hitting or kicking. New Kid tends to move fast with little control and that translates into painful blocks. Everytime I think the bruises in my arms heal I get another. I was under the impression that in time the nerves would withdrawal and the density of the bone would expand to the point that such things wouldn't hurt. My arms go through phases where I think they are getting to the point where they don't have problems with blocking and then it gets worse again. I gather it's not an accumulative process; more towards regular use.

So I partnered with Check and we worked on block that lead a grab that lead to an attack. This is something that we normally do, but teacher Slim was watching and assisting as much as possible.

Teacher Slim. I'm not sure how old he is, but it's got to be somewhere beyond fifty. Permanently jovial, a strange sort of comb-forward with some possible hair color and a Santa Claus belly Teacher Slim would never give you the impression of anyone knowing anything about the martial arts. That would be the worst mistake anyone could make. Teacher Slim learned extremely hard style Karate in the Pacific Northwest from a Japanese teacher that adhered to the hard school approach. You get tough by taking a vigorous pounding. He got his Black belt and started teaching at the age of 18 during the hey day of hippies with ass long hair and construction workers unable to tolerate the same. His stories start with "some guy making comments about my long hair..." Always great with realistic advice about street fights. Teacher Slim went on to get Black belts in some four martial arts. Formidible. He's actually forgotten more than all of us put together will every learn.

The rest of the evening was devoted to practicing the most painful locks standing up that I could tolerate. We from the nerves in the knuckles all the way up to the neck and beyond. I have a peculiar response direct nerve based pain - a jolt of adrenaline and a nipple erection. Who wouldn't love the discomfort! We ended up choking each other out. If I were anymore a pervert I'd be hog heaven with the thoughts of auto-erotic asphyxiation.

By the end of the second hour I figured that we had practiced about 20 ways to cause grievous pain and still remained standing.