Just what am I playing at?
Okay……if you know me, you are well aware that I practice martial arts. Practice in this context means ‘obsess about’, not perform with mastery or anything remotely close to mastery. I do hold a brown belt in Taekwondo, but as I’ll explain, I’m not sure that really means much.
Apparently I enter a mental time warp when I step into the dojang, because I automatically forget that I am kissing the backend of forty. My gender is somehow slammed aside in my brain so the fact that I am nearly always the only woman escapes my awareness as well.
Each time I go to class I undergo these same transformations, but this past Saturday presented me with the hard, cold facts a little more vividly than most days. Saturdays are contact sparring days. This means we don gear – arm and leg/foot guards, chest guards and head gear – and kick each other, presumably for points. In tournament TKD, you are awarded points depending on where you hit (chest targets are 1 point, head kicks are 2 points). But in sparring class, for me at least, it is more about proving I can play in the same league as the boys. Mostly, the adults that come to spar are in their early to mid twenties and male. Yes, burly young men who tower five or more inches above me and outweigh me by at least fifty pounds. This SHOULD be my first clue that something is not quite right with my thinking…..but my insanity will become evident shortly.
So, this Saturday, I suited up to face three separate brawny twenty-somethings. I have faced all three of these gentlemen in the past, but I had just missed six weeks of sparring practice due to an overuse injury in my knee, so it had been awhile. Unfortunately, these guys did NOT sit out for those weeks and, in fact, they’d IMPROVED over that time, so I knew the matches ahead of me would not be easy. Actually, I hoped I’d not make a fool of myself.
Anyway, the first match went okay…..but I knew that the second degree blackbelt I was facing was holding back. This kid could flatten me with his eyes closed…..he is famous for his tornado roundhouse….. but he kept it simple with me. Supposedly the round tied, but I know he gave it to me which made me feel worse than if I’d lost it outright.
In the next round I faced the kid I refer to as the football player (in actuality he is an engineer, educated at Brown…a really nice kid. BUT BIG!!!). He has improved dramatically! My only high card with these guys is that I can place head shots better than they can…..so if I can get in close I can hit them. Too bad for me that Mr Engineer has mastered his cut kick…….200 pounds behind a good cut kick will break my knee! The round went okay, that is I didn’t feel too embarrassed, but somehow I cut my finger – I wasn’t wearing my gloves. Sometimes that sort of thing happens and this cut was small, so I wasn’t worried. But my next round was up, so I didn’t have time to bandage it. There was no bleeding, so no problem.
Now for the last round…….another mid-twenties lad, one who can kick nearly as high as I can, but outweighs me considerably. I’m tired by this point…..of course, they aren’t! – so this round was quite challenging. It was all about maintaining my energy, which meant moving a lot and kicking a little. He’s not tired, so he’s kicking a lot – therefore, I’m blocking like a fiend. I did not point much at all this round, but in my defense, neither did he….I blocked well.
We all went to take off our gear when one of the guys called, “Wow, you did get cut!” I looked down and, sure enough, there was blood smeared all across my white uniform pants. Mind you, I have not felt a thing, but upon examination I can see my hands are cut in at least six places and at least one of the cuts is bleeding quite freely. How on earth did my hands get so cut you may ask? Toenails. I kid you not. Some of those finely aimed blocks were catching the dagger toenails of my opponent and shredding my hands.
At this point I had to ask myself what the h*ll I was playing at – trying to compete in a sport with young guys when my old SKIN can’t even withstand their toenails, let alone their power kicks. The really sad part is that one of the cuts probably needed stitches (it was at a finger bend and deep enough that it continued to break open and drip blood hours afterward) but I just couldn’t bring myself to go in and seek stitches with the explanation that I’d been cut by toenails! How strange and disgusting!
So while the guys changed clothes to go off-road mountain biking for a few hours (told you they weren’t tired!!), I dragged myself home to clean my wounds and try to recuperate from the grueling work out. When I finally showered (sometime later, as Olivia had dance pictures directly following my sparring class) I had to ask myself why I continued to try to act like I was still twenty? There is probably a reason why no other mid-aged women are coming to sparring class…….perhaps I need a brain transplant.
Of course, come Monday, I’ll head on back. Not only will I continue to show up, I’ve started trying to learn a second martial art……muay thai…..I’ll go to that class on Tuesday. Maybe my only hope is a KO. That is, someone knocking ME out. Somehow, though, I doubt even then I’d see clearly…..I must enjoy looking the fool.
Apparently I enter a mental time warp when I step into the dojang, because I automatically forget that I am kissing the backend of forty. My gender is somehow slammed aside in my brain so the fact that I am nearly always the only woman escapes my awareness as well.
Each time I go to class I undergo these same transformations, but this past Saturday presented me with the hard, cold facts a little more vividly than most days. Saturdays are contact sparring days. This means we don gear – arm and leg/foot guards, chest guards and head gear – and kick each other, presumably for points. In tournament TKD, you are awarded points depending on where you hit (chest targets are 1 point, head kicks are 2 points). But in sparring class, for me at least, it is more about proving I can play in the same league as the boys. Mostly, the adults that come to spar are in their early to mid twenties and male. Yes, burly young men who tower five or more inches above me and outweigh me by at least fifty pounds. This SHOULD be my first clue that something is not quite right with my thinking…..but my insanity will become evident shortly.
So, this Saturday, I suited up to face three separate brawny twenty-somethings. I have faced all three of these gentlemen in the past, but I had just missed six weeks of sparring practice due to an overuse injury in my knee, so it had been awhile. Unfortunately, these guys did NOT sit out for those weeks and, in fact, they’d IMPROVED over that time, so I knew the matches ahead of me would not be easy. Actually, I hoped I’d not make a fool of myself.
Anyway, the first match went okay…..but I knew that the second degree blackbelt I was facing was holding back. This kid could flatten me with his eyes closed…..he is famous for his tornado roundhouse….. but he kept it simple with me. Supposedly the round tied, but I know he gave it to me which made me feel worse than if I’d lost it outright.
In the next round I faced the kid I refer to as the football player (in actuality he is an engineer, educated at Brown…a really nice kid. BUT BIG!!!). He has improved dramatically! My only high card with these guys is that I can place head shots better than they can…..so if I can get in close I can hit them. Too bad for me that Mr Engineer has mastered his cut kick…….200 pounds behind a good cut kick will break my knee! The round went okay, that is I didn’t feel too embarrassed, but somehow I cut my finger – I wasn’t wearing my gloves. Sometimes that sort of thing happens and this cut was small, so I wasn’t worried. But my next round was up, so I didn’t have time to bandage it. There was no bleeding, so no problem.
Now for the last round…….another mid-twenties lad, one who can kick nearly as high as I can, but outweighs me considerably. I’m tired by this point…..of course, they aren’t! – so this round was quite challenging. It was all about maintaining my energy, which meant moving a lot and kicking a little. He’s not tired, so he’s kicking a lot – therefore, I’m blocking like a fiend. I did not point much at all this round, but in my defense, neither did he….I blocked well.
We all went to take off our gear when one of the guys called, “Wow, you did get cut!” I looked down and, sure enough, there was blood smeared all across my white uniform pants. Mind you, I have not felt a thing, but upon examination I can see my hands are cut in at least six places and at least one of the cuts is bleeding quite freely. How on earth did my hands get so cut you may ask? Toenails. I kid you not. Some of those finely aimed blocks were catching the dagger toenails of my opponent and shredding my hands.
At this point I had to ask myself what the h*ll I was playing at – trying to compete in a sport with young guys when my old SKIN can’t even withstand their toenails, let alone their power kicks. The really sad part is that one of the cuts probably needed stitches (it was at a finger bend and deep enough that it continued to break open and drip blood hours afterward) but I just couldn’t bring myself to go in and seek stitches with the explanation that I’d been cut by toenails! How strange and disgusting!
So while the guys changed clothes to go off-road mountain biking for a few hours (told you they weren’t tired!!), I dragged myself home to clean my wounds and try to recuperate from the grueling work out. When I finally showered (sometime later, as Olivia had dance pictures directly following my sparring class) I had to ask myself why I continued to try to act like I was still twenty? There is probably a reason why no other mid-aged women are coming to sparring class…….perhaps I need a brain transplant.
Of course, come Monday, I’ll head on back. Not only will I continue to show up, I’ve started trying to learn a second martial art……muay thai…..I’ll go to that class on Tuesday. Maybe my only hope is a KO. That is, someone knocking ME out. Somehow, though, I doubt even then I’d see clearly…..I must enjoy looking the fool.
posted by DLS5 at
7/20/2008
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