Here are some follow-ups to previous posts.
After the one about Mrs. Instructor, she let me know she hasn’t subscribed to my blog because
Awwwhhhh… My very own stalker. Just what I always wanted.
After my Sensei goes to Singapore post, (dang, I should’ve called it that!) Ju-Lyn and I were talking about the visit. I wrote:
I discovered this in my drafts folder from August.
The below is from July 3, and it took about a year to scroll to find it. Apparently Mrs. Instructor and I chat a lot. Mine is the writing in purple.
More recently, I wrote to her, “Uncontrollable loud sustained laughter during a wall drill with Instructor. Super embarrassing.”
Her: What happened?
Me: I don’t know! I just couldn’t stop!
Her: lol
Me another day:
I could also call this “My birthday month, Part 2… No, really!”
Yes, I know it’s nearly November. I’m behind at life. Also, I must clear Mrs. Instructor’s name by stating that she was in no way demanding I post my stories about her. Unlike her predecessors, Chex Mix Guy and Sensei, she has not become an attention monster. You know who else hasn’t? Surfer Dude. He knows full well about this blog and has never, to my knowledge, checked out what I’ve written about him. Wouldn’t you think he’d at least be curious? Amazing.
Okay. On with the pics, etc.
When we last saw our intrepid heroes, Heather, Neighbor, and Ilsa planned a coffee date do-over, this time at a joint called Archer’s Arrow, totally chosen by me for the name alone.
I received this message a little bit ago:
First of all, aren’t you a subscriber so you get notified when there IS something here and don’t need to keep checking? (Take note, all of you.)
Second, I’ve been swamped with work and authorly stuff, like bio, acknowledgements, finding other authors to write blurbs, etc. [Check, check, and check, but those were the easy items.]
Third, this means I’ve been ignoring all other blogs, and I feel guilty when I post here but don’t visit others.
But the above message is what I get for telling Mrs. Instructor I had a post waiting in the wings called “The One About Mrs. Instructor.” Some people just love seeing their name in lights blogs. So, without further ado…
Warning: I chronicle my Jiu-Jitsu Journey here. This is a low moment post. If you’re not in the mood to be brought down, just skip to the end.
I wasn’t in the best frame of mind when I arrived for Jiu-Jitsu. Because of other life stressors, my normal place of refuge has lost its euphoria. But I’m trying to push through.
I showed up for a mini-Reflex Development class, where Master Cycle students are encouraged to help the Combatives students. Instructor seemed glad I was there and eager for me to assist him in demonstrating the moves.
Okay, friends. After lulling you into a false sense of security with posts related to baking, beeping, and random food pics, I’m bringing Jiu-Jitsu back in force! (I just heard Mrs. Instructor quietly say, “Yay.”)
In a recent class, Instructor used the Combatives Belt Kid (CBK) as his demo partner. I thought of telling CBK later, “Hey, man, good for you. What an honor.”
But in last night’s class, Instructor used me as his demo partner, so I now realize it’s a matter of who’s sitting closest or randomly makes eye contact, rather than a matter of skill. [Note to self: Sit far away and avoid eye contact as though Instructor is Kaa from The Jungle Book or the basilisk from Harry Potter.]
Being demo partner in Master Cycle is frightening. Thankfully, the moves here are sort of a crap shoot. Some are ridiculously complicated, but a lot are really quite simple when you get down to it.
Fellow Jiu-Jitsu student “The Dad” and I often talk cars, fight scenes, and action movies in general.
This all started years ago when I was driving from Taekwondo to Jiu-Jitsu and noticed a cool old car on the road.
“Ooooh,” I thought because, you know, super girlie.
So imagine my delight when the observed vehicle pulled into the parking lot ahead of me.
“I must see who is driving that.” (Internal dialog. Not yet so crazy as to talk to myself–out loud anyway.)
Relieved to see it was a fellow student, I got the scoop from The Dad on this glorious ’67 Chevy Impala.
While I was doing triangle chokes in Reflex Development with Iceberg, Surfer Dude was watching.
“Where do you have your foot?” he asked me.
I looked. “Oh, it’s on his knee. It should be on his hip. Sorry. That was lazy of me.”
“You’re in Master Cycle now,” he reminded me, and continued reminding me as he pulled no punches when we rolled together later. “I want you to be as good at triangles as I am.”
“Whoa,” I said, kind of flattered at his apparent faith in me, since he is the king of triangles. “New life goal.”
Next SD helped Iceberg properly triangle choke me.
“When her face starts turning red like that, you know you’re getting it,” SD told him.
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it,” I said. He smiled.
In another Master Cycle class (my apologies to those I confused about that), I partnered with The Combatives Belt Kid. He started by congratulating me on the new belt. What a polite young man.
Then I uppercut him in the jaw.
To be fair, it was an ACCIDENT! And it was rather light. His braces didn’t cut his mouth or anything.
I apologized, he smiled, said “It’s okay,” then, “Would you like to try again?”
So that time I DID make him bleed.
Kidding, kidding. I did the move properly, no blood involved.
When we switched partners, he told “Pink” I had punched him. She said to me, “That’s okay. I’ve frequently made his nose bleed.”
See? I’m a lamb!
Also while rolling with The Combatives Belt Kid (CBK, anyone?), I tried a cross choke.
“I feel really bad that I’m actively trying to hurt you,” I said. It seriously felt wrong. But he got away by rolling over his head somehow. It was rather impressive.
“You almost got me, though,” he was kind enough to tell me. “It was really close. [Long pause.] I need a minute.” We waited for the flow of blood to return to his brain.
Why aren’t more people into this stuff???
So, you would think since Mrs. Instructor and I are friends, we’re both female, I’m new to Master Cycle, and given that the guys are nice and easy on me, she would be too, right?
Wrong!
That chic’s leg hooks were SOLID. I feel like 75% of the time I’m able to slip a choke. She was all, “Oh, you want to slide out by getting your back to the ground? Let me just pull you back on top of me as though you weigh approximately 7.5 pounds.”
“You got a frame in on the right side? That’s cool, I’ll just fling you over to the left and sink the choke in with that arm.”
Daaaaaaannnnnggg. Such fierceness!
Basically, I didn’t stand a chance.
Writing and Martial Arts 