In a post from March 2022, I wrote that “doing bicycle crunches with five-pound weights strapped to each ankle is no joke.” Since then, I’ve added two pound weights on top of that and have gotten to the point of yawning my way through my exercises. (I know that sounds horribly braggy. Just stick with me here.)
So I figure, if I can do seven pounds with no problem, I’m ready to jump to ten pounds.
Happy early birthday to me!
I carried the box inside, cut it open, and thought, Holy cow! What is this? Military grade, Kevlar-infused, SWAT-Team-ready ankle weights?
Physical therapy for my knee injury went well. It was helpful, but I ran out of sessions before getting to complete mobility. I’m on my own now.
I said my thanks and goodbyes, as I genuinely liked the people at this place. They were amiable and fun to chat with, to the point where I felt we were truly becoming friends.
And I enjoy being friendly and nice to people. I also enjoy the thought of beating someone up.
Humans are complicated beings.
My previous physical therapy place had this little display on the reception desk. I took several pics specifically with you all in mind.
The person I’d most like to show-what-for is, of course, Sensei. Because he’s always got it coming.
This one. Sensei’s super cool daughter, Coral, tap dancing her heart out to earn points for our trivia team.
Here she is again, further demonstrating her coolness.
She probably got her black belt when she was like, I don’t know, 7? It’s going to take me a weeee bit longer than that. But for the sake of argument, let’s just pretend my kicks are that high too, mm’kay?
I also mentioned Coral is going to med school because she wants to be a doctor in Africa. Awesome, right?
Here’s the thing. Med school is insanely expensive. She’ll be paying off loans for yeeeeaaarrrssss when she finishes, meaning, she can’t fulfill her dream of helping impoverished African youth for, you know, a long long time, which is, in medical terminology: super sucky.
So, she’s asking for help. It’s my pleasure to share her Go Fund Me page because this is a young woman going places (literally). She was inspired by a book she read as a kid, Kisses from Katie, about a young woman who moved to Africa and wound up adopting a bunch of girls. Y’all like books. I thought you’d appreciate that.
Please check out her page to read her full story and maybe consider tossing in a buck or two. It would mean a lot to her, and me, and Sensei (though we care about him less) if you helped Coral out with her noble mission.
A few weeks back, we did bar trivia with another couple and won first place. We nearly didn’t, though. A tie breaker question was required. “What is the name of the company I work for?” the woman running the show asked.
Silence.
Then I thought, it must be on the screen somewhere. Of everyone in the room, I was seated closest, so I could easily read the small URL at the top, which included the words: Trivia Goat. Thus, I yelled it with gusto.
I kind of felt bad for the other would-be winners. Their table was much farther away.
Ah well.
The envelope, please.
Bolstered by the win and the $20 brewery gift card that could only be used on a subsequent visit, we returned a few weeks later with this same couple and wound up tying again!
For 8th/9th place. There was no tie-breaker to determine which of our two teams was the greater loser, but at least our beer was covered by our prior-won gift card.
Our foursome realized that being all of the same age-range was a detriment. We didn’t know 80s music or modern pop culture. What was required for maximum win-potential was a smattering of ages on our team. So whom did I reach out to for my Master Plan of Bar Trivia Domination?
Here’s a little recap in case you need it: If all had gone according to plan, I would have gotten my red belt in Taekwondo with my three daughters at the beginning of April. Instead, thanks to that Jiu-Jitsu injury that kept me from walking for 3.5 months, I got behind and was only able to test for brown in April.
Then, because of my “expert” negotiation skills, I “convinced” Sensei to let me test early for red and get caught back up to my girls. All would be right in the world again. I was fully back on my feet, slated to test for my red belt May 1. But on April 29, exactly nine months after my foot/ankle injury, I busted my knee.
Some of those who saw me on crutches YET AGAIN so soon said, “Man, maybe it’s time for Betsy to quit martial arts.”
I did not consider that an option.
Though I wasn’t able to catch up, I was at last(!) able to test for red this past week, which included some board breaks.
Sadly, the moment of impact wasn’t captured, but here’s the immediate aftermath of me breaking that board with a palmheel strike.
Wynne Leon and I had been talking about me visiting her for years. Then in May, inspiration struck while doing the most meditative, higher-plane of all tasks: laundry. The first week of July–no Taekwondo, off work for the holiday, relatives in town to keep an eye on our kids… Could we make it happen in two months? I spoke with all the affected parties, and we could!
Hubs and I booked our tickets.
“I’m on a plane. I can’t complain.” [You with me on those lyrics, M?]
I let Wynne know we were officially on our way with this picture. She and I had been counting down the days, somewhat incredulous that this was ACTUALLY happening.
We took the two hour, 41-minute flight (just long enough for me to cry my way through A Man Called Otto, highly recommend) up the coast on July 4. From Sea/Tac airport we took the light rail train. I once again let Wynne know of our progress.
“I’m on a train. I can’t complain.” (It still works.)
And then, because every new experience is a delight for me, I got permission to take a picture of our Lyft driver. It was my first Lyft, okay?!
Where I live, microbreweries are more ubiquitous than Starbucks. So, when checking a map for a fun new place to try, I was drawn to one called Battle Mage.
I mean. It’s CALLED Battle Mage!!! Need I say more?
My friend sort of gets it.
I looked at pictures on-line and saw a similar picture to this, adding to my illusion that a battle mage was a Viking or Medieval weapon:
Can’t you see a huge hairy dude running into a fight wielding this puppy? But full-size? And also not a puppy because that would be horrible?
It wasn’t until shortly before our visit that it occurred to me, “Wait. Is this actually a Dungeons and Dragons thing?”
Oh, my friends, it was. It so very, very much was.
Trigger warning: I’m about to talk about another injury. If you’ve experienced Betsy Injury Trauma, you may want to move along.
But, for a delightful change of pace, I didn’t damage my left foot. Not even a foot!
This time it was my right knee. I dropped a larger-than-me human on top of it.
At the end of my women’s self defense class (the irony), one woman asked if I could go off-curriculum and show them how to throw someone over one’s back. No problem, but I didn’t stop to think that she was much heavier than I.
She landed on my leg, which elicited an audible “crack.”
But first, the test. As always, I messed a couple things up because testing makes me nervous, but I recovered quickly and my flubs may have gone unnoticed. Also, I got to do this:
That board was one piece until it met my elbow.
My daughter videoed this for me. I sent it to my mom and then to Sensei noting that I wasn’t too old to proudly show my mommy my board break. He responded:
And so, another belt for my rack. I had blue, my favorite color, the longest, and I’ll have that boring brown the shortest.
The girls’ red belts are beautiful. Hopefully I’ll get mine soon. That test requires kicking a board, so… yeah. Hopefully I don’t injure my good foot. But also, whatever. At this point, I no longer care.
Writing and Martial Arts 