Dreaming of Laundry

Two weeks ago, my spousal unit lost her most prized possession…a necklace with a diamond cross her grandmother gave her, a silver heart that I gave her on our first Christmas, and a white gold foot that I had made up of our son’s footprint after he was born. She’d taken to not wearing it in the summer, because it was irritating the heat rash on her neck. We searched all over the house for it, backtracking all the places that she’d been the day before, but it was nowhere to be found. She was devastated, crying for days and wondering why she hadn’t just put it in her jewelry box. But after it didn’t turn up, we’d kind of written it off. We knew it was still in the house, but we didn’t know where. I figured it was gone until we moved again.

Today, I was taking a nap when all of a sudden, I heard a soft voice fill my dreams. It was a voice that I’d heard like this only once before, right before we got pregnant with my son. It was the voice of God, and He said, “Look in the laundry room.” “Okay, for what?” I asked. A vivid picture of my wife’s necklace filled the void of my mind. “So, it’s in the laundry room?” I asked without needing a reply. “If You say so. I trust You. I know my spousal unit would love to have it back.” And I was suddenly awake.

So, I got up and started looking in the laundry room. I don’t know what made me check inside her clutch, especially since she hadn’t used it in months. But there at the bottom, under a layer of “stuff” was something shiny. So, I dug it out, and stared down at the missing necklace lying in my palm.

The look of shock on my spousal unit’s face when I laid it in her hands was priceless. She couldn’t hold back the torrent of tears that came pouring out of her eyes. She hugged me and thanked me profusely. All I could say was, “Thank God, not me. He’s the one that told me where to look.” I don’t know why He chose today to show me where it was. But it’s pretty amazing how He does that.

White Belt Ceremony

Troy and I both got our next belts tonight, my orange and his yellow. Master Richie called us up at the same time, so we could get our belts together, which was really cool. I’m so glad that I got to share that moment with my son. Over the last week, I’ve had several people make a comment about how special it is that my son and I are getting to do this together. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that when I decided to sign up. I was doing it to fulfill my dream, but I didn’t think about how my son might view it or even if he wanted me to do it with him. Based on how he’s reacted, I’d say he’s more than okay with it. Maybe he actually enjoys doing it with someone else and having someone interested in what he’s into.

One day, I was coming into the studio for my class after my son’s class was ending. My son hadn’t gone to class that day, but one of the other kids in his class asked his dad why he wasn’t taking taekwondo like I was. His dad made up excuses about being out of shape and preferring more moderate exercise, but I honestly think that other kid would have found it cool to have his dad doing taekwondo like he was. And it got me to thinking that maybe that’s how my son feels. Maybe he’s proud to have a dad that’s out there, putting in the reps, busting heads, and breaking boards.

I don’t know. But for now, I love hearing our names called together. I love being able to practice with him and talk martial arts with him. And I even love his trash talking about how he’s a higher rank than me…for now.

White Belt Testing

Master Richie told me that I’d be doing sparring during our testing, which was the first event of the evening. So, after gearing up, I faced off against Nico, a twelve-year old first degree black belt going for his second degree, who looks more like he’s fifteen. Nico held his own for most of the fight, relying on his experience, but his weakness, which he’d shared with me during our warmups, is my strength. His fighting style is one of a patient fighter, waiting for his opponent to make a mistake, so that he can capitalize. But that means that he’s susceptible to more aggressive fighters, who can overwhelm him with a barrage of attacks…aka, me. And since most of the people in our class are more passive and therefore also patient fighters, Nico had never fought someone like me.

With my strong right leg, I bombarded his body with side kicks and round kicks, evading his attempts to block and keeping him off balance with combinations. Searching for some answer to me, Nico tried to gain an advantage by switching to southpaw, so I switched with him. And he quickly learned that I’m equally as adept from that side, so he went back to his stronger right side. And when he finally started kicking over my kicks to make a few contacts, I surprised him by going even higher and tagging him in the head. But my strongest weapon, as I was told later by Mr. Tyson, is my side kick. I can generate so much force in my kick that I don’t just make contact, I literally can push my opponent backwards by a couple of feet. And I used that kick to keep Nico off balanced and retreating while I picked my shots.

After my win over Nico, I was paired up with Mr. Tyson, a third degree black belt and one of our instructors. Mr. Tyson is twenty-two, a lot more experienced, and has unbelievable flexibility with his vast arsenal of kicks. I didn’t really stand a chance in this fight…or so I thought. Since we had never sparred before, he made incorrect assumptions about my fighting style, and since I’m only a white belt, he underestimated me. I guess this is a good time to note that several people in the class have told me that I’m a natural sparrer. I have good instincts about fighting, great reflexes, and I’m deceptively strong. And one other weapon that I employ that very few others use effectively in our class…I’m an excellent blocker.

I went straight after Mr. Tyson, unloading combinations of side kicks and round kicks on him and causing him to retreat. Being a last-minute substitute, he wasn’t wearing gear, so I refrained from going for his head. He blocked most of my attacks, but the effort meant that he couldn’t throw any counter kicks. He dodged and rolled away to get some space between us, so that he could switch to offense instead of defense. He tried to keep me at bay with his long legs. He tried side kicks, round kicks, crescent kicks, and even hook kicks. I blocked them all. Not finding an opening on my body, he tried to go for my head, but I blocked that too. And then, I unloaded a devastating side kick that caught him square in the ribs and sent him sliding backwards two feet. And that’s how the fight ended. I’m not sure that he even managed a single point on me. Now, he might have been holding back on me, but I still believe that I surprised him.

My last fight was against Evie, an eleven-year old brown belt. She had recently broken her wrist, and I knew that she was extremely timid when it came to combat anyway, so I decided that I’d throttle it way back with her. Instead of being aggressive, I tried the patient route and waited her out. Unfortunately, all she did was retreat. She never even attempted a kick or punch. I threw a couple of weak kicks at her just to try to spur her on, but nothing. I could hear her family trying to encourage her to come at me, and she even turned her head to look at them, which made me laugh. Never take your eyes off your opponent. She finally threw a punch and caught me in the chest, and that seemed to waken her up. She attempted a few kicks after that, which floated harmlessly by me. And then, she made a rookie mistake. Instead of fighting me from a side position, she squared up in front of me, exposing her entire torso. I lashed out with a front kick and caught her square in the chest. Even though it wasn’t a particularly hard kick, it caught her off balance, and she went flying onto her back. I stopped to help her up, but she lost all fight after that, and we just danced around each other until it was over.

Mr. Tyson later pulled me aside and asked if I had ever done martial arts before. When I answered in the negative, he was surprised. Bewildered, he asked, “Then, how did you get so good at sparring?” I tried to flatter him by telling him that he’s just a good teacher…which he is…but he was still shocked. He told me that my side kick was unreal. And since Mr. Tyson rarely gives compliments to anyone, choosing to usually critique everything to perfection, I took that as high praise.

The night wasn’t without drama for me though. After executing my form perfectly, Master Richie asked me to do it again facing the back of the room. I don’t know what happened to my head, but I got disoriented and kept turning the wrong way. He asked me to start over, but by then, I was mentally wrecked. It was kind of embarrassing, especially since I’ve done my form a hundred times without issue. What a time to have a meltdown.

After everyone had executed their forms, the black belts did their board breaks, and the testing was concluded. But Master Richie wasn’t done with the surprises. He said that there was an extra board left over, and he asked me to try to break it doing a flying side kick. It should be noted that black belts actually spend time during our classes practicing breaking boards. We have special plastic boards that snap together and “break” to simulate a real board’s toughness. It is NOT something that white belts spend time doing. I had never even attempted a board break of any kind before much less a flying side kick in front of thirty people all focused on me.

I’m not sure if Master Richie saw something that made him believe that I could actually do this, or if he just wanted to see what would happen if he introduced some chaos to the night. Maybe he just wanted me to redeem myself for screwing up my form. So, I got in my sparring stance, did a few bounces on the balls of my feet, slid forward, leaped into the air, and shot out with my right leg. I caught it almost perfectly in the middle of the board, and it split into two pieces. I kicked it so hard that I probably could have split two boards. And that was a much better way to end the evening than sulking over my botched form. And now that I think about it, maybe that’s what Master Richie intended all along.

White Stripes - Part 3

Tonight was the last class before testing, so I bit the bullet and just outright asked Master Richie if I was going to be evaluated for my last stripe. He told me that he planned to check everyone that was planning to test tomorrow. One of the other guys in my class told me that Master Richie is just swamped with trying to manage both the taekwondo and jiu jitsu classes, which I can totally respect and understand. But then, he needs to delegate the pre-testing evaluations to his other instructors.

Other than the stress of having to ask and wait until the last night, everything went fine. I figured out the secret to getting Master Richie’s attention was to practice on the windows side of the studio. He always stays on that side and watches everyone over there. I’m usually relegated to the back wall, which he never comes to. So, tonight, I wandered over to the windows, and I was able to do my form and both of my one steps for him. And I finally earned my third stripe.

Channeling Chuck

I’m not going to lie. I’m getting really frustrated and stressed by this belt testing process. I went to class tonight, expecting my teacher to finally evaluate me for my final stripe. But instead, someone else was teaching the class. When my teacher finally showed up, he spent a few minutes determining who would be testing on Thursday, even calling me out specifically for my orange belt. Then, he had us do our forms for the next ten minutes before he left to teach a jiu jitsu class. And he never actually evaluated me for my third and final stripe!

I’ve been killing myself to train and be ready early, and I feel like it’s coming down to the wire unnecessarily. It’s stress that isn’t needed. I’m there. I’m ready. And he just never takes the time to put me out of my misery. And the worst part is that I’m mostly likely not going to class tomorrow, so it means I’ll only have Wednesday to wrap this up. Since there are no classes on Thursday, it literally is going to come down to the last day! I will have gotten my first stripe before everyone else and my last stripe after everyone else.

It’s frustrating when I see them handing out stripes in my son’s class like it’s nothing. They aren’t even doing it well sometimes, and they’ll still get a stripe. And they can even get two or three stripes on the same day! There’s so much more emphasis on preparing the students for the testing during the two weeks before. For all the benefits of training with black belts, this is the one thing I hate about it. Most of them can go months or years before testing again, so there’s little to no emphasis put on it. The focus is mostly on combat and sparring and preparing for tournaments. I feel like if there were more people in the colored belts like me, then it would be important. But as it is, it doesn’t feel like it is. And now, I’m left with wondering if I will even get to test on Thursday.