My Jiu-Jitsu instructor came over to help when I was attempting to do a move with Hip Rad Heroine (Mark’s HRH guess). Instructor said something then, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“What? No!” I said, horrified. “I just looked at her and then back at you.”
“Sheesh. The attitude on this one,” he said with an expression of wild disbelief.
At first I was mortified. Then I realized he was messing with me.
Another time, Instructor was heel hooking my good ankle–the one not wearing a protective sleeve.
Wrapped ankle on left in a blue shoe. On the right, pink shoe. I took this when I stepped out of the car in the Walmart parking lot. Leave it to me to wear mismatched shoes. I laughed then thought, “Well, this is Walmart. I’ll fit right in.”
Twice, my Jiu-Jitsu instructor has said to my partner, “She’s a blue belt now, so don’t take it easy on her.” I feel like that’s an indication that he’s proud of me. And that means a lot.
The first time was to Thoughtful One, who said to me, “I saw the video of you getting the belt. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“That’s okay. You were there for the important one. Well, the other important one.”
Here I go again. When I fill this card, I get a stripe on my belt.
The second time Instructor said that was to Balloon Man. I spotted Balloon Man looking at me, then quickly up and side to side as though attempting to avoid eye contact.
I stood at the end of the hallway as two of my girls wandered out of their room toward me. It was a delight to witness their wide-mouthed excitement as they took in my blue belt.
“You got it!” one said.
I stayed in my gi, waiting for Hubby to get home so I could likewise greet him.
When I did, he said, “I knew it. When you grabbed your belt on the way out, I almost said, ‘Do you think you’ll need that after tonight?’ But I didn’t want you to get inside your own head. Then when I got home and saw your belt missing from its usual place, I knew. You put it away because you no longer need it.” He smiled and nodded. “Somehow, I just knew you were getting the new one tonight.”
I was seriously impressed by his premonition. Then I relayed the events of the night, all of my failures and reprimands and terrible mistakes.
And it happened again.
I am not normally a crier, yet I was an exhausted, emotional wreck, shocked by the irony of the worst night ending in my greatest triumph. I was blubbering like a whale* (I just made that up) and shoving strips of napkin up my nose because we’re out of tissues. (You’re very welcome for the visual.)
“This happened, then this, and this,” all while Oldest Daughter and Hubby watched, mutely marveling at this rare display from a black and now blue–appropriately like a bruise–belt martial artist who can kill a man using just one of her legs.**
After getting all of this out, I began to remember good moments in the night’s class also.
The Taekwondo belt rack is temporarily hosting some new friends.
First, I got reprimanded for inadvertently insulting Balloon Man. When I lifted my head to explain, Instructor pushed it back down, silently saying, “Stop talking; do the move.” But at least, from what I glimpsed, Balloon Man did not appear insulted.
Nevertheless, I needed to keep mentally changing the subject afterward because being reprimanded by Instructor, which has happened three times now, makes me want to cry. I hate disappointing him.
Then it was roll time, and Instructor and Balloon Man sat right next to Money and me. I can barely function when I know he’s watching. I even said, “Do you really have to sit right there watching?”
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)
Given that our recent focus in Jiu-Jitsu has been all things lower extremities: heel hooks, ankle locks, knee bars, and now toe holds, I’m not surprised by how colorful my skin has become from the knee down. This adds to the near-omnipresent arm bruises.
But one night before class, I considered how cool it would be to have a black eye. I’m all about new experiences; why not this one? I’ve thought this a handful of times, so the only reason it’s unique now, is that I sort of got my wish.
My neighbor, Subie, on left, Surfer Dude on right, saying, “Shout out to Ilsa’s blog readers!” [Not really, but how awesome would that have been?]
One night for rolls at Jiu-Jitsu, a song by Pierce the Veil called “Bulls in the Bronx” played. During a flamenco interlude, I couldn’t help but stop rolling with Surfer Dude to “dance” while kneeling. Not missing a beat, he pulled on a prim and proper face like a flamenco guitarist and pretended to play. It was priceless.
Back to rolling, which always involves laughter when I’m with SD (and most people, but especially SD), I said, “Maybe we’re just having too much fun,” a second before that line was sung.
He smiled and fist bumped me with our sparring gloves on.
Later, I was rolling with Balloon Man when “Ride the Lightning” by Metallica played. I ALMOST pulled the same stunt by telling Balloon Man (not going to abbreviate that one), “Now it’s time to die,” to align with the song.
I didn’t have the nerve. I told SD about it later. He said,
My Jiu-Jitsu Instructor asked if anyone had a question. I raised my hand and asked if you could sneak a choke in from North/South when someone was turtling. (You follow all that?) “Money” was nearest, so Instructor demonstrated on him.
When he asked if there were any more questions, I asked what to do if the person’s turtle is so tight you can’t slip an arm in.
So, Instructor demonstrated with Money again, break dancing on top of him before ultimately sneaking in the choke. Meanwhile, Money’s getting his rear repeatedly handed to him.
“Any other questions?”
“I’m trying to think of one just so I can see you mess with Money some more,” I said.
He laughed. Money looked at me and laughed too. Then Instructor turned to him and said, “Next time I’ll demo with her and let you watch.”
To add a picture, here’s me taking this dude’s head off with my leg.
This is a now slightly-outdated picture of my Jiu-Jitsu card. Thoughtful One’s is far more impressive.
Thoughtful One arrived after me, and since I saw him coming, I grabbed his card from the box when I grabbed mine. His card was full save a few Fight Simulation boxes on the bottom.
I handed him his card and said, “Nice and full.”
“What?” he said, tossing his card onto the bench in a manner that made me think, “Ooookay.”
“Your card. It’s practically full.”
“Oh.” He relaxed. “I thought you were commenting on my stomach. I appreciate the honesty, but…”
I laughed. “Yeah, man, big breakfast or something?”
I would never be rude to any of these people, if not for self-preservation, for basic human decency, and because none of them give reason for rudeness.
~~~
When the gym had a Christmas party, I brought my son so he could play with the Little Instructors again like on our two park days. Thoughtful One brought his wife and, after introducing me to her, added, “She’s a novelist.”
Writing and Martial Arts 