"I can't count when I kihap."
May. 12th, 2012 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eternaleponineClass today (and this week) has been... interesting. To the point where Master Paul's was teasing me today, saying, "Hopefully we know where our limbs are today." My proprioception has been off for the past few days, which has led to me hitting Robert in the nose (very, very lightly), kicking Master Paul in both elbows, and otherwise failing at 'no contact' anything.
R. had to travel to a funeral, so he wasn't in class yesterday or today. I thought (and sort of hoped) this might mean I would be the only one there, and possibly get to practice with the joong bong again, but sadly, it was not to be. Yesterday D. was there, and today we had Mister Sean 'I can't count when I kihap' H., as well as D., although she only participated in part of class. More on that later.
Seriously, warm-ups run by someone who says, "I can't count when I kihap" get interesting. You tend to end up doing things eleven times. Finally I just started counting and telling him when we were done. *headdesk*
This was after last night, when we were doing circuit training, doing one minute rounds, and whoever was closest to the clock was supposed to give a 30 second warning, 10 seconds, and end... and we discovered that D. can't actually read a clock. Like, at all. She called 30 seconds after 15, and I ended up doing it after that because otherwise... yeah. The second time, when I told her to start when the little hand got to the twelve, it went better, but geez! What are they teaching kids in school these days?
My hips hurt, but then, we did a set of kicking drills from hell the last two days. The first one involves kicking over a stack of shield targets, doing both roundhouse and side kicks, which means you have to make sure you have good form or you'll knock them over. Now, we had the choice of how many targets to kick over, but honestly, if I'd done less than three it would have been kind of pathetic. Then there was the one that really hurts. You hold on to a partner's hand (for balance) and then you do 5-10 kicks – without ever putting your foot down. This is not easy, no matter how Master Paul makes it look.
We did self-defense practice in both classes, which was the part of the class that D. participated in today. The rest of the time she was in the office, reading something. I have no idea. I guess there must be some reason that her mom can't pick her up on time, so Master Paul lets her stay, but... yeah.
It gets a little bit frustrating, being in the adult class and frequently having kids there. It means time spent waiting for them to stop giggling, for one thing, and it tends to mean that the pace is slower and, for lack of a better word, dumbed down.
I know that intryslora's school, you're an "adult" once you hit age 12. I'm not sure I agree with that. Size-wise, by that point, it's true that they're probably going to be better off in a class with adults, but maturity-wise, sometimes it's really not a good match. I don't object to having fun in class and laughing sometimes, but when everything sets off a giggle fit, it gets sort of tiresome.
Of course, the fact that I am horribly PMS-y may be contributing to these feelings of disgruntlement, but really, it would have been nice to have a class where things didn't have to be explained multiple times.
On the plus side, I learned the rest of my form. Now I just have to really get it set in my head (and my body). I still have no love for walking stance.
R. had to travel to a funeral, so he wasn't in class yesterday or today. I thought (and sort of hoped) this might mean I would be the only one there, and possibly get to practice with the joong bong again, but sadly, it was not to be. Yesterday D. was there, and today we had Mister Sean 'I can't count when I kihap' H., as well as D., although she only participated in part of class. More on that later.
Seriously, warm-ups run by someone who says, "I can't count when I kihap" get interesting. You tend to end up doing things eleven times. Finally I just started counting and telling him when we were done. *headdesk*
This was after last night, when we were doing circuit training, doing one minute rounds, and whoever was closest to the clock was supposed to give a 30 second warning, 10 seconds, and end... and we discovered that D. can't actually read a clock. Like, at all. She called 30 seconds after 15, and I ended up doing it after that because otherwise... yeah. The second time, when I told her to start when the little hand got to the twelve, it went better, but geez! What are they teaching kids in school these days?
My hips hurt, but then, we did a set of kicking drills from hell the last two days. The first one involves kicking over a stack of shield targets, doing both roundhouse and side kicks, which means you have to make sure you have good form or you'll knock them over. Now, we had the choice of how many targets to kick over, but honestly, if I'd done less than three it would have been kind of pathetic. Then there was the one that really hurts. You hold on to a partner's hand (for balance) and then you do 5-10 kicks – without ever putting your foot down. This is not easy, no matter how Master Paul makes it look.
We did self-defense practice in both classes, which was the part of the class that D. participated in today. The rest of the time she was in the office, reading something. I have no idea. I guess there must be some reason that her mom can't pick her up on time, so Master Paul lets her stay, but... yeah.
It gets a little bit frustrating, being in the adult class and frequently having kids there. It means time spent waiting for them to stop giggling, for one thing, and it tends to mean that the pace is slower and, for lack of a better word, dumbed down.
I know that in
tryslora's school, you're an "adult" once you hit age 12. I'm not sure I agree with that. Size-wise, by that point, it's true that they're probably going to be better off in a class with adults, but maturity-wise, sometimes it's really not a good match. I don't object to having fun in class and laughing sometimes, but when everything sets off a giggle fit, it gets sort of tiresome.Of course, the fact that I am horribly PMS-y may be contributing to these feelings of disgruntlement, but really, it would have been nice to have a class where things didn't have to be explained multiple times.
On the plus side, I learned the rest of my form. Now I just have to really get it set in my head (and my body). I still have no love for walking stance.
no subject
on 2012-05-13 11:34 am (UTC)Walking stance is ewie. I hate it in forms and always over balance on it.
Twelve is also an age when kids here are usually moving from having been in kids' class for a while, and learned the discipline, to being in the adult class. If they're just starting at that age, they can do the kids class still. And some keep doing the kids class because it's where they fit in better. Boo has a friend who just got his second degree yesterday and is twelve and prefers the kids classes with his friends, also I think the middle Goldmeer still does kids classes and he's now a third degree and he's pretty mature, but he's also smaller, and seems to prefer them. So it is maturity, too. On the other hand, we have folks who move up to adult classes in part because they want to be pushed harder, and worked harder and at a faster pace than the kids go.
Oh, and I know one girl who was sent back down to kids classes. She was okay, but her focus wasn't completely there, so she's thirteen and still working with the kids because she learns more there. So it definitely isn't twelve as a hard and fast age. Unless the kid is 6' tall at twelve. Of which we have had more than a few. The eldest Goldmeer is now 15 and has been taller than Kev for at least a year...
no subject
on 2012-05-13 11:55 am (UTC)Also, twenty is sumool and thirty is surun. Eleven through nineteen, to the best of my ability to decipher what is being said, is one through nine with the prefix "yo" and twenty-one through twenty-nine has the prefix "sim".
The first time we were told to do thirty, I almost responded with, "But sir, we can't. We don't know how to count that high!"
Yesterday Sean started off by saying "Ten jumping-jacks." I thought he was actually going to take it easy on me. Then I think he remembered I'm a green belt and amended to twenty. Which is fine for jumping-jacks, but twenty push-ups SUCKS.
I finally got to the point where I didn't overstep walking stance in Il Jang. Now I have to get it set in my muscles for Ee Jang. Currently I overstep and have to pull my foot back more often than not. And I get told, "Walking stance," a lot. At least it's not my shoulders anymore!
I think at this point Master Paul is just glad when people show up, and doesn't so much enforce age limits on the classes. Which is okay when it happens sometimes, but I hope it doesn't become a consistent thing. Especially since on Friday, D. had already done the kids class, so it wasn't like she was in our class because she wanted to make up for not being able to make it to the earlier one.
Sigh. I get the sense that there's more going on than I know, especially with her staying on Saturdays. Her mom is a year younger than me and has four kids, which can't be easy.
Also, what are they feeding kids around you, that they grow them so tall?! I think I would be afraid of a six-foot 12-year-old!