At the Dojo

October 2010

If a black cat crosses my path I’m not likely to think that it is bad luck but rather wonder where the heck it is going and possibly even want to follow it just to see if it will be struck down by curiosity if nothing else. Not unlike Alice, in following my curiosity, I have landed in a few situations myself and found myself in unexpected places wondering about the outcome...

     Perfectly content with the free trim to my bangs that I just received at the salon--the stylist there not wanting my impulsive mutilations credited to their place of business I’m guessing--and heading back to my car, I was approached by a nice looking young man in a karate uniform--the traditional black Gi. “Would you like a free karate lesson?” I turned around to see who he was asking. He couldn’t possibly be talking to me because according to my weight I am very height challenged so should be playing pro basketball. I also have graying hair and an AARP membership card in my wallet. And, I couldn’t have been walking any faster than about one tenth of a mile an hour--the perfect rate for picking out weekly specials in grocery aisles. I certainly, in my mind, appeared a most unlikely candidate for karate training. But yes, he WAS talking to me and having just seen the black cat cross my path, I said “Sure, why not?” and made an appointment for later that evening. I was also invited to bring along my Bubba Stick (Made in Texas by Texans) which is a cane with a heavy brass head and he told me he would show me how to use it as a weapon--Kane Fu, a martial arts form for elders.

I arrived at the appointed time and was first shown some defensive moves that were impressive. The sensei made it seem easy. I learned to break a hold if someone were grabbing me and how to make a strike to the nose, temple or groin count. I learned to swing the cane over my head making it a lethal weapon and I learned that if you are physically worn out you are much more likely to sign on the line for lessons and be left wondering “what was I thinking?” as you are parted from your senses and your money.

Private lessons are once a week and group lessons are three times a week. I told myself this was all good because I was weak, lacked strength and balance from too many “power naps” and persistent fibromyalgia sapped my motivation and any desire I had to wander far from the couch.

I was nervous about going to the group class. All the students were younger than I, some young enough to be someone’s grandchild—I refuse to say mine. I figured that I would either be an inspiration to them, comic relief or both. When they asked me what made me decide to take Karate I told them honestly “my children.” There does come a time when parenting skills just aren’t working on them any longer and serious intimidation is needed.

At the first class, after a brief meditation and exercises which I did from an elevated mat because I couldn’t yet stand from kneeling, we were paired off to practice. We were learning how to backhand someone and increase the impact by flicking the wrist and twisting the torso. I was facing Alfredo whose dark eyes held warmth and mirth. The sensei Ian told me to hit him and not just pretend. Doing so, I couldn’t suppress the giggles and neither could my opponent. I could tell he thought it was like being beat up by his grandmother. Just then I learned something I didn’t know about myself--I like pretending to hit people. Of course, I immediately apologized and controlling our moves, no one gets hurt purposefully. It was his turn to hit me.

If I were following the black cat, I would be noticing about now that it didn’t know exactly where it was going. As I tried to do “girl” pushups and crunches and squats and other kinds of exercises I only remember from high school, I kept asking myself “What was I thinking?” I must have a screw loose. The sensei became a kindly but pressing task master. I’d show up for classes and I would do modified exercises because of old injuries to knee and leg and I would huff and puff with the others. I was surprised to find that while I move slowly, I can strike faster than others might guess and have at least as much endurance as one of the other younger students. Other students weren’t use to having a senior among them and I hoped they were surprised by my determination and good humor.

I plan to be a perpetual white belt due to my limitations which are many. I can’t kick higher than the groin (and maybe don’t need to), my round house kick is practically non-existent but someone seeing it would probably be disarmed just by the sight and laugh themselves off balance and then I can finish them. I can execute hits to the head, nose, ears, jaw, and throat--if my opponent isn’t taller than a dwarf. And, I also do energy healing so if I ever do harm someone it is reassuring to me to know that I can heal them as well.

There are all kinds of rules and traditions in the “Dojo”. You don’t wear shoes, you bow entering and leaving. You bow to your sensei and opponents, you kneel putting on and taking off your belt, the belt is not supposed to be washed. That is disrespectful while not washing your Gi is disrespectful to other students. It is bad luck to kill a bug in the Dojo and bad luck not to kill an opponent who hasn’t washed their Gi.

I have been really surprised by the amount of enjoyment in Karate under the leadership of the sensei and it’s a very good workout. Although not a big fan of physical exertion, I have improved my strength, balance and flexibility. I am learning how to fall when others my age fear falling.

There have been many, many more crunches, push-ups, squats, stretches, jumping jacks, jogs, etc. and there are still days when I wonder what I have gotten myself into. Now the sensei is asking me (telling me?) to participate in a tournament. Ha, ha, ha. Right. Me in a tournament--all because of a chance encounter on the way from having my hair trimmed!

My 64th birthday fell on a Saturday when class meets. Everyone at the Dojo wished me happy birthday and hit me. It was a good day. Exhausted, sweating from the workout, and cheerful, I went to my car. I imagined seeing a black cat peering out from under wondering with curiosity just what I was doing and whether I would survive. Heading home for my afternoon “power nap” ...I had the confidence I would survive.

Note: I am still, as of this posting, enjoying learning Karate. I have a yellow belt and I was "persuaded" to go to a tournament by Sensei and I actually brought home a trophy LOL. You can see pics of me at the Dojo on my Facebook account.