From Blueberry to Grape
I’m taking karate lessons. I have for years, but for one reason or another, I’ve never been able to make it to black. I’ve been "stuck", then, at blue (or blueberry, as my boys like to call it) for quite some time. In my current class, the instructors, while honoring my belt, wanted me to work back through the tests and instruction to make sure I understood this style correctly. I finally caught up to my current rank at my last test and, last night, tested for my first new belt, purple (or grape :), in years. With Angela and the boys on hand to watch, it was a great night.
The test started with katas. As a purple belt candidate, I had to do five katas: the three I had learned for earlier belts, plus two new ones. Overall, I think they went really well. I’m pretty sure I muffed a transition in the orange belt kata, but the two purple belt katas felt really good. Nice, low stances. No feet sticking to the floor, making me stumble. Most importantly, I didn’t forget where I was in the kata or which one I was doing, which is always nice.
Next came the usual testing on techniques: what are they, what are they called, let me see you do them. That left two major items: board breaks and sparring. To be honest, I was little nervous about the breaks, as there would be three power breaks, which were, I thought, several boards at once with spacers. It turns out that it WAS several boards at once, but with no spacers, which sounded much scarier and harder in my head. 🙂
I had to do three breaks, so I chose a hammer fist, a stomp and a side kick. I had no worries on the stomp, as that’s a powerful technique no matter what size you are. The hammer fist, though, involved smashing through the boards with the "meaty" part of my hand, which is a bit daunting. After a fewer practice swings to set myself, I wound up and hit the boards, which broke surprisingly easily. My hand hurt a bit, but not too bad. Awesome.
The last break was the side kick, about which I was also nervous. They assured me that I’d have no problem, that my kicks were strong enough, so I lined up to give it a go. With any kicking break, you typically have two guys holding the board(s), one on each side, with possibly others pushing on the holders to provide a little more solid target. My holders were Mr. Harp and and Mr. Sexton (two of the brown belt instructors) with the third being Mr. Lowery, one of the two black belts. Per protocol, I said, "Brace!" and threw my kick. That’s when time slowed down. I saw my foot hit the board, I heard a crack, then saw the boards explode. Just like in a movie, I saw chunks of wood and splinters go flying. I saw Mr. Lowery’s head snap back out of the way. I watched the wood fall slowly to the ground, then everything went back to normal speed. I looked around and saw that Mr. Harp had a nice cut on his forehead from the wooden shrapnel, and Mr. Lowery had a bloody lip. We all laughed and joked about it, but they reminded me that I still had to spar. 🙂
I actually find myself really enjoying sparring. Teddy Roosevelt said a century ago that football "breeds toughness and courage" and I think the same can be said of karate and sparring. Ultimately, you’re training to defend yourself and someone around you, so you have to be able to fight. Sparring offers a chance to learn that in a controlled environment, allowing you test yourself and your skills, finding what needs work, etc. And it’s a lot fun. 🙂 At my level, I had to do 4 1-on-1 fights, and then 2-on-1, 3-on-1, and 4-on-1 fights, which are as crazy as they sound. Of the the three "plural fights", I think I scored a total of 2, maybe 3 points (out of 5 per match). Luckily, the test isn’t about points, but to see how the candidate does, overall. 😛 Rare is the time where the single guy wins a match. 🙂
When the night was finally over, I was awarded my first new belt in years. As Mr. Gold, the other of the two black belts, handed it to me, he told me I wouldn’t have to wake up in the morning wondering if I had earned that belt, and every muscle in my body will attest to that. 🙂
Overall, it was a hard night, pushing my body further than it wanted to go at times, but I loved every minute of it. While I can’t directly compare, the camaraderie that has developed with the other students in the class, as well as the instructors, seems very much like what you see in, say, a football or basketball team. Being able to put ourselves through that together, then talk and laugh about it afterwards is a big part of the joy of studying. I’m very lucky to have a class like I do.
Now, staring in January, onward and upward to brown, with my oldest son starting on his yellow belt. It’s going to be a blast. 🙂
Dad was big on family. He was always saying that what he wanted was for us all to be together, to get along, and he wasn’t just saying that. When Dad was a boy, he didn’t have a good family life. For example, when he was in the fifth grade, he was living in Shreveport, LA with has dad, who had divorced his Mom some time earlier. One morning, Dad awoke to find himself alone. His dad had left sometime in the night, so Dad wandered downstairs from the apartment they were living in to find help. The waitress in the diner downstairs had not seen my granddad, but, once they determined he wasn’t coming back, she helped Dad get a bus ticket back to Oklahoma City and his mom. Dad didn’t know the waitress’ name, but until the day he died, he was extremely grateful for her kindness.
Dad was a big believer in being self-sufficient. I don’t recall ever getting a “speech” from him on the topic, but his life exuded it. He often talked about how he had to fix his own cars from the time he was (almost 😉 old enough to drive. He was constantly working on TVs, VCRs, microwave ovens, cars, air conditioners, etc. to fix them himself. While I don’t have the know-how to fix things like he did, I can see in myself that same determination to do what I can for me and my family. 
During all of this reflection, it was interesting to see, consciously, the effects my Dad has had on me over the years. His attitudes, his beliefs, and, much to the chagrin of wife, even his sense of humor can be seen in me in one form or another. In that way, the old cliche that he lives on in us is, indeed, true.