The second screening
Feb. 18th, 2011 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrI faced it alone, which was hard, and certainly not my preference. But I had no choice in the matter. Rob is out of town at an HPEF board meeting, and the girls are doing an overnight lock-in at the church.
I remembered to take a pain reliever a half hour before I left. I made a nourishing but light dinner for myself and ate it, dithered to the girls (who kissed me sweetly and assured me I would be fine) and drove to the screening, which is held in a different school in Hopkins. I had brought two water bottles, but I stopped at a nearby drugstore to buy a container of orange juice. I was worried about getting hypoglycemic during the screening and so wanted it as a backup. What do I do about my nerves? I thought to myself. This is awful. As I pulled out my wallet to pay, I suddenly became aware of the song that was playing on the store's overhead speakers, which I remembered from my college days:
I had timed my arrival to twenty minutes before the screening started, to give me plenty of time to warm up. My nerves started to prey on me again, so I didn't fret myself by trying slow kicks and worrying because I was falling out of them. I stretched, and then I waited.
First: Slow kicks, followed by fast kicks. I started out well, but the slow kicks went on much, much longer than they did in last Tuesday's class, of course, and so I didn't do as well as I did then. The fault I'd been told to work on in this section was a tight snap on the front kick. Again, as the kicks continued on and on and ON I could feel every particle of moisture wrung from my body...well, meaning that I sprung out all over with sweat, but my mouth felt like the Gobi Desert. I started falling out of some when we got to the side kicks, but I kept struggling, kept trying, so it was irregular...it wasn't as if I gave up and threw in the towel. We got a water break and then started the section I dreaded most: paper kicks. Fortunately, I only had to do the first half: the hook kick/round kick combination, the ten round kicks in a row (I just can't do that) and the front scissor kick. The X-ray paper was handed across, and then the second section of paper kicks started: spin hook kicks, tornado kicks, and then multiple spinning kicks (either hook or tornado). This section I did not have to do because of my joint injuries. I was very, very glad to be able to simply rest in chunbi as the people around me struggled through it. The woman beside me looked just about dead.
Another water break, then karate marching basics. The notes from last time told me I need to improve the snap on the block. I used my fiercest karate face. This is the one section when I do my very best to look like a steel arsed bitch. Then form. The thing that drives me crazy on form in the screening is that EVERYONE rushes. I try to do the pause ONE-TWO count, and everyone around me is already on the next block. It rattles me. I got no comments on this section.
Another water break, and then self defense. I got no comments. What they look for is twist on the back foot and weight transfer. Next section was pad strikes, where they try to absolutely run you into the ground. The skill you are demonstrating, aside from power and the technical details of the kicks, is sheer stamina and determination: i.e., do you have the energy to yell and keep your hands up. I seemed to catch a second wind at this point. I figured that one thing I could do to demonstrate that I was ready to be a black belt, despite the injuries, was sheer grit, the determination to absolutely yell my head off. We did back leg round kicks on each side, back leg thrust kicks, offensive side kick, and then punching.
Finally: sparring. I fought another woman, an inch or two taller than me, rather thick set. We didn't fight long at all, and I wasn't at all winded, but presumably we managed to demonstrate the things he was looking for: setting up openings, a stopping technique (i.e., stopping a blitz with a side kick or back punch) and avoiding getting hit.
That was it. I limped to the sidelines and peeled myself out of my sparring equipment as the instructors disappeared into the office to compare notes. I felt about a hundred years old (I was certainly the oldest person there...I spoke with another man stripping down, who I judged was the next oldest, and he said he was 37. He was very surprised to hear that I was fifty.)
I was the last one to get my equipment back into my bag, because I was shaking so much. Everyone had left by the point that Mr. Sidner came back out of the office and told me that I had passed. I gave a laugh of relief that turned into a half a sob.
"You passed mostly because you were the only one yelling on the pad strikes."
I felt proud. "I figured that since there were sections where I was weaker, I had to compensate by really throwing my heart into the stuff I could do."
"Yeah, and it showed. How did your ankle feel?"
"It hurt during the paper kicks. And the pad strikes, during the thrust kicks."
"I want you to take the next week off to give yourself a chance to recuperate. I don't want you to keep re-injuring yourself."
This was welcome news. I limped out to the car, slowly put my gear away, and drove home. Stopping at Starbucks along the way to get a chocolate brownie. Because, you know, I damn well deserved it.
I remembered to take a pain reliever a half hour before I left. I made a nourishing but light dinner for myself and ate it, dithered to the girls (who kissed me sweetly and assured me I would be fine) and drove to the screening, which is held in a different school in Hopkins. I had brought two water bottles, but I stopped at a nearby drugstore to buy a container of orange juice. I was worried about getting hypoglycemic during the screening and so wanted it as a backup. What do I do about my nerves? I thought to myself. This is awful. As I pulled out my wallet to pay, I suddenly became aware of the song that was playing on the store's overhead speakers, which I remembered from my college days:
Are you gonna wait for your sign,I started laughing. It was a sign, I decided, and my heart felt much lighter as I left the store.
your miracle
Stand up and fight
This is it
Make no mistake where you are
This is it
Your back's to the corner
This is it
Don't be a fool anymore
This is it
The waiting is over
No room to run
No way to hide
No time for wondering why
It's here
The moment is now
About to decide
I had timed my arrival to twenty minutes before the screening started, to give me plenty of time to warm up. My nerves started to prey on me again, so I didn't fret myself by trying slow kicks and worrying because I was falling out of them. I stretched, and then I waited.
First: Slow kicks, followed by fast kicks. I started out well, but the slow kicks went on much, much longer than they did in last Tuesday's class, of course, and so I didn't do as well as I did then. The fault I'd been told to work on in this section was a tight snap on the front kick. Again, as the kicks continued on and on and ON I could feel every particle of moisture wrung from my body...well, meaning that I sprung out all over with sweat, but my mouth felt like the Gobi Desert. I started falling out of some when we got to the side kicks, but I kept struggling, kept trying, so it was irregular...it wasn't as if I gave up and threw in the towel. We got a water break and then started the section I dreaded most: paper kicks. Fortunately, I only had to do the first half: the hook kick/round kick combination, the ten round kicks in a row (I just can't do that) and the front scissor kick. The X-ray paper was handed across, and then the second section of paper kicks started: spin hook kicks, tornado kicks, and then multiple spinning kicks (either hook or tornado). This section I did not have to do because of my joint injuries. I was very, very glad to be able to simply rest in chunbi as the people around me struggled through it. The woman beside me looked just about dead.
Another water break, then karate marching basics. The notes from last time told me I need to improve the snap on the block. I used my fiercest karate face. This is the one section when I do my very best to look like a steel arsed bitch. Then form. The thing that drives me crazy on form in the screening is that EVERYONE rushes. I try to do the pause ONE-TWO count, and everyone around me is already on the next block. It rattles me. I got no comments on this section.
Another water break, and then self defense. I got no comments. What they look for is twist on the back foot and weight transfer. Next section was pad strikes, where they try to absolutely run you into the ground. The skill you are demonstrating, aside from power and the technical details of the kicks, is sheer stamina and determination: i.e., do you have the energy to yell and keep your hands up. I seemed to catch a second wind at this point. I figured that one thing I could do to demonstrate that I was ready to be a black belt, despite the injuries, was sheer grit, the determination to absolutely yell my head off. We did back leg round kicks on each side, back leg thrust kicks, offensive side kick, and then punching.
Finally: sparring. I fought another woman, an inch or two taller than me, rather thick set. We didn't fight long at all, and I wasn't at all winded, but presumably we managed to demonstrate the things he was looking for: setting up openings, a stopping technique (i.e., stopping a blitz with a side kick or back punch) and avoiding getting hit.
That was it. I limped to the sidelines and peeled myself out of my sparring equipment as the instructors disappeared into the office to compare notes. I felt about a hundred years old (I was certainly the oldest person there...I spoke with another man stripping down, who I judged was the next oldest, and he said he was 37. He was very surprised to hear that I was fifty.)
I was the last one to get my equipment back into my bag, because I was shaking so much. Everyone had left by the point that Mr. Sidner came back out of the office and told me that I had passed. I gave a laugh of relief that turned into a half a sob.
"You passed mostly because you were the only one yelling on the pad strikes."
I felt proud. "I figured that since there were sections where I was weaker, I had to compensate by really throwing my heart into the stuff I could do."
"Yeah, and it showed. How did your ankle feel?"
"It hurt during the paper kicks. And the pad strikes, during the thrust kicks."
"I want you to take the next week off to give yourself a chance to recuperate. I don't want you to keep re-injuring yourself."
This was welcome news. I limped out to the car, slowly put my gear away, and drove home. Stopping at Starbucks along the way to get a chocolate brownie. Because, you know, I damn well deserved it.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-19 08:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-19 02:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-19 03:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-21 10:30 am (UTC)