eternaleponine

I've started to develop this theory regarding the reason the belt colors progress the way they do in taekwondo. I'm pretty sure that they're roughly the same color as the bruises that you end up getting at that level of training.

White = No bruises
Yellow = Minor bruises
Green = Things are getting pretty grisly...

I'm sort of afraid of what's going to happen at blue on up. *g*

Seriously though, the one on my right ankle from last Friday's complete breaking fail has turned really gruesome (I took a picture but I'll spare you... at least for now). And my forearms... well, I'm honestly starting to wonder if someone at work is going to ask me if everything is okay at home. A friend did so jokingly today, but it really wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think that the cause might be something untoward, even though in truth it's exactly the opposite. Both forearms have any number of really prominent bruises on them, and some of them I'm not even 100% sure how I got them!

Last night we did sparring without headgear, which was sort of a pity because if we'd been wearing it, I totally could have gotten R. in the head. But Master Paul decided we would take it easy, because if we put on full gear "You two will kill each other."

Which isn't entirely inaccurate.

Tonight we just did no-contact sparring, which really means minimal contact sparring, because we can't manage to not occasionally clip each other. Even Master Paul got me a couple of times, but nothing that left a mark... well, except where I got R.'s elbow. My feet, particularly the left one, seem to be magnetically attracted to elbows.

At least I'm not feeling as bad about sparring as I was a couple of weeks back. I don't know if I'm actually improving or if R. just sees how pissed off I get and gives me more opportunity to score, or what. We'll see how things go in the tournament when I'm facing off against people who are more my own size.

I'm kind of concerned about breaking at the tournament. When we did breaking earlier this week, I completely failed at it, and not in a "succeeded but hurt myself or otherwise did something dumb" way, but in a "the board(s) didn't break at all" way. I was trying side kick through two boards again, and well... I won't be doing that for competition. Because I can't do it.

My board holders admitted that the first attempt was probably as much their fault that the boards didn't break as mine, and after that, my legs went shaky and I knew it wasn't going to work. I should have just switched to something else, but oh well. (It was a rough week, and watching R. succeed on his first try didn't help.)

I have a week to get it figured out.

But we did have a visitor from Master Paul's old school that day – he seems to turn up on school vacation weeks – and he did a flying side kick OVER the heavy bag and through a board. Twice. I was impressed. But hey, he's a teenage boy. He hasn't learned yet that there are things that people aren't supposed to be able to do. ;-)

This is really more for my records than anything else, because yes, I do sometimes forget what I've learned, or what I'm supposed to have learned, especially with the self defense.

( White Belt )

( Yellow Belt )

( Green Belt )

I broke my second board today. Master Paul let me pick what I wanted to do, and it took me a little while to decide. Finally he asked if I'd chosen, and I said, "I'll do palm strike, because I'm afraid to do hand breaks."

Putting your foot through a board, especially your heel, is not that hard. It's really not. Putting your hand - that thing that you use for writing and typing, that thing that is filled with little breakable bones - through a board is another story.

Except not. It's all in your head, really, that little voice that says, "You can't do it. You'll hurt yourself."

That's why I did it. To shut that voice up. To prove that I could, and that yes, it was harder than breaking a side kick, but it was far from impossible. My hand stung a little bit after, and if I do it again I need to make sure to keep my fingers back more, but by the end of the class my hand wasn't red anymore, and it didn't swell.

So now I have two broken boards on my desk. I'll probably stop keeping them now, but those two are proof that at least in the dojang, I can do anything I put my mind to.