Mar12

“Looking blue”

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The week’s Jiu-Jitsu focus was heel hook escapes, particularly from 4/11 position. In other words, “How not to get your ankle or knee broken.”

Instructor came over to watch me on my first attempt. There was a lot of, “Freeze. Go back”–my three most-feared words. Once I finally got it, he said, “Great! Look at you! You conquered a 4/11 escape!”

When he walked away, I said to his wife, “Okay, what is this? The kids’ class? I’m not that fragile.” It was practically a head pat and a “Good Ilsa!”

Who’s a good girl?! (random AI dog pic from Pixabay)

Sadly, I was not given a treat.

I didn’t really mind, I was just surprised that he thought I needed that much positive reinforcement. But, in truth, though I hate to call out Huper Ruper Humpty (Bookstooge’s… errrr… creative guess for “HRH”), she and I are not fantabulous at grasping new techniques. My only consolation is that Instructor spends a lot of time with the other pairings, too, so it must not just be us.

For rapid mastery at the end of the instruction portion, we were to begin in the most basic foot lock position. I grabbed HRH’s ankle and shoved it under my armpit, feeling reasonably confident I had everything down.

Until I heard Instructor call, “Ilsa, her foot goes on the other side.”

I looked at HRH, and we giggled. I had screwed up Step One.

Neither of us was sure what to do later when I had both her feet under my arm, so she called him over. “This is interesting,” he said. I took that as code for, “How the heck did you wind up here?” but he was probably just considering the possibilities, which he then walked me through. He added that soon I’d be helping others. “You can help Combatives students now, and when you’re a black belt, you’ll be helping everyone.”

“Ha!” I literally said that. Not a laugh, an actual “Ha” followed by, “I love your confidence in me.”

Does he know how old I am?! Black belt would be another eight years, minimum. Still, that’s like 15 in Ilsa years.

I did eventually get the hang of it all. When it was time to roll, I paired with Malcolm, whom I’m going to rename Pirate* because he’s bald, bearded, big (not necessarily piratey, but it’s true), and has a nose ring. I’ll find out when his birthday is and get him a parrot.

This doesn’t look remotely like my pirate, but there you go. Image supplied. (Thanks, Jack Mac at pixabay.)

Instructor watched this roll, which ended with me triangle choking Pirate. He called time and then said to me, “Looking blue,” with that raised eyebrow head tilt “legit” face that I live for. By this, he meant, getting close to blue belt.

He continued, “The way you rolled out of that 4/11? That was sick!”

I blinked back at him, trying not to let on that I wasn’t thinking at all about the technique I had just learned. All I knew was, I didn’t want to get heel hooked, so when Pirate grabbed my ankle, I spun across his body, kicking my free leg over his head to change the direction of my foot, so I could slip it out of the crook in his arm.

When push comes to shove, I’m not thinking about the step-by-step moves I learned. I’m only thinking survival. Whatever works, right?

“Looking blue” is an even better compliment than those four classes in a row not too long ago when Instructor told me I was “killing it.”

After this night’s happy ending, I got in my car, thinking about the night I passed my Combatives test. I had turned on the radio, wondering what song would play for the occasion. Appropriately, I heard, “I’m happy. Feeling glad. I got sunshine in a bag.”

This night, again feeling great and that my next belt wasn’t too far away on the horizon, I was eager to hear what the universe would procure for me. I turned on the radio and heard:

“Don’t lie to yourself.”

🤣

* Before class started, I found myself sitting against the wall next to Pirate. “How do you like ‘Pirate’ as my blog nickname for you?”

Instead of asking, “You blog about this?” or “What are you writing about me?” he said, “Pirate, yeah. I could get a peg leg and a parrot. I can walk like I just stepped off a ship.”

A night or two later, we were leaving at the same time and said the standard “have a good night,” etc. Then, as he was farther away, he called, “The Pirate!” I think, though I can’t confirm because I only sort of saw it out of the corner of my eye, that he lifted a triumphant arm as he said it.

I have chosen wisely.

I opened my trivia book and the question I landed on is perfect for Dave!

At 7,541 pieces–plus ten minifigures–a model of this fictional spacecraft is one of LEGO’s largest-ever commercially sold sets.

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59 responses »

  4. I think you should demand treats. If I was risking a broken ankle, I’d want a treat.

    and Millennium Falcon. I have an older version of that set (more like 5,000 pieces from the early 2000’s) that my wife found in a thrift store for like five dollars.

    no it’s not for sale.

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  5. Thanks for the shout out. Considering your recent black eye, I guess someone else took the prayer to heart 😉

    My guess was going to be either the Deathstar or the Super Star Destroyer. Now I have to go look to see how many pieces they are!

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  6. Damn girl, I get tired and achy just reading these posts. Do they have a belt color for barely being able to roll out of bed without groaning? It’s been a long time since I threw my leg over anyone’s head… and that’s another blog entirely.
    😈

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  8. the star wars original ship? I would be so happy if there was a lego version of little Chewbacca. reading about your training sessions, makes me feel like I have bumps and bruises at the end )

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    • I’m going to say, yeeesssss… but I’m pretty sure that answer wouldn’t fly on Jeopardy. I’m sure Chewbacca would be one of the little figures that came with the set, if that helps. 🙂 And you’re welcome for the relief you experience when you realize that you DON’T have any bumps and bruises. Whew! Reading my blog can be an emotional roller coaster!

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  12. “I grabbed HRH’s ankle and shoved it under my armpit?.” Out of context that line would have a reader thinking you’re into some weird stuff, Ms. Rey. And hey, you baked a slice of trivia pie just for ME? (making emoji face with red cheeks). How touching. Death Star or Millennium Falcon. Death Star or Millennium Falcon. The Force tells me to go with the Falcon.

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  13. So, I’m the only one looking up lyrics? And ending up listening to music? “I’m happy. Feeling glad. I got sunshine in a bag.” Gorillaz, baby!

    Good job with making me smile this morning … and learning how to be more combative. I also think Pirate can’t stop thinking about you and his new nickname. He’s wearing it proud!

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    • You must be the only one! Well done, though! It’s such a fun, if bizarre, song! 😛

      If/when the whole gym gets word of this blog, they might all want to know what their nicknames are. I’m glad Pirate likes his so much, and Surfer Dude seemed proud of his also. Thoughtful One knows, and I didn’t hear a complaint. Only one to complain was Mrs. Instructor that her name was too boring. Sheesh. What a princess. 😉

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  14. I would have guessed U.S.S. Enterprise. And I see from the comments I would have been wrong. Good thing I came too late to the party to play.

    Yo-ho-ho, has it ever occurred to you any pirate worth his weight in gold bullion would fancy rum over a parrot?

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  15. Slow and steady, Betsy – and colour by colour, you’ll be at that black belt one day. With blue on the immediate horizon!

    I had a good chuckle at “how the heck did you wind up there?” Such fun stories and situations you and your Jiu Jitsu peers get yourselves into!

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  16. So you’re friends with Pirate now. Cool. I’m laughing at the radio advice: “Don’t lie to yourself.” I say something similar, perhaps more direct [lie to = bull@hit], whenever I find myself confused about what to do next. It keeps me from feeling blue. 😜

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