Andy's Blog

I’ve been away in sunnier climes these past three weeks, and that will be my standing excuse for the lack of any postings on this site recently – you may find that I’m able to make these excuses on an as-required basis throughout this blog; the only constant being my inability to get the wordsmithing juices flowing at a constant rate… that or a mind numbingly boring life!

…actually I fear it’s a combination of the two!

Anyhoo, beginning of a new week and my first senior karate class has just been completed and I’ve received my first black mark on my belt.  Of course ‘completed’ is a subjective term; survived is another one that could be used just as well.

Karate is something that you need to keep plugging away at every week, so even a small time away and you feel horribly uncoordinated. Arms, legs and various other appendages were waggled during the class, sometimes even when they were supposed to!

..oh and the black mark?  Just an indication of some progress in my karate – so a good thing!  Quite how I got it, given the unwieldy state of my moves yesterday, is somewhat beyond me; there’s a *lot* of things that need improving, kicks being chief among them.  I think I may need to impart some of my hard earned cash (‘hard earned’ also being another of those subjective terms) into purchasing one of those mechanical devices for improving ones flexibility.

Onwards and upwards as I keep saying… and outwards, possibly, as well.

The large yellow glowing object, so very foreign to these shores, has made an appearance in the large blue expanse above our heads.  The birds are out, feathered variety I hasten to add, flowers are blooming and all around are more pale skinny legs than you could shake a proverbial stick at – yes, summer has arrived!  In an uncomfortably sticky way.

I like Summer, I really do, however anything above 18c and I really *REALLY* begin to suffer.  Unfortunately, for some of my colleagues, adding Karate to this “uncomfort” has the frankly undesirable effect of me producing copious amounts of sweat.

This past week has been full on with Karate; a Seminar weekend, teaching classes and attending senior training.  I think I may have lost twice my body weight in delicate perspiration.. or at least that’s what I tell myself.

Ah well, as a great philosopher once intoned, “The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the devils own satanic herd”… although he probably never had to wrestle with a fragrantly soaked 16oz heavyweight Gi whilst trying to air it.

..and it is this sweatiness that I shall use as an excuse for the black eye I received at the seminar, that or ninjas!  Lots and lots of Ninjas!  That’ll keep my students quiet and not asking why I didn’t “block” the offending punch.

I think this Summer is gonna be a long and steamy one from a karate perspective.  Which’ll be fun, especially at grading time – running around trying to catch wilting students before they face-plant the dojo floor.  I also have the slightly uncomfortable feeling that this coming July grading shares the same  space as one’s day of birth.

*sigh*… ok, time to go and practise my kicks (which are woeful at the moment) and think of some more excuses as to why I’ve gotten the shiner before my students asks any hard questions.

Oh, and a *HUGE* Big Up and best wishes to Libby, Darren, Jackie, Paul and Roy who are off to the Black Belt Grading on Sunday.. You’ll storm it guys!

Human powered flight is difficult enough as it is.  Trying to look dangerous and lethal at the same time only compounds that difficulty.  Combining both elements whilst two of your colleagues look on, sniggering and making tinkerbell-like-fluttering motions make the task nigh on impossible!

I think I may have talked myself into a slight corner with, and I’m not entirely sure how, the aforementioned ninja based human flight having an unholy alliance with a kilt.  I believe it may have coincided with a dare.. and very possibly a double-dare.

Time to think of something, sharpish!

..and for those of you wondering, this is how you take flight karate stylee;

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I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.  Your imagination would have to be somewhat cosmic in its magnitude and more perverse than I would generally give you credit for; and yet me + morning would still not figure… I may want to talk to you about other things if the previous magnitude/perverseness *is* to be credited to you, but I wander somewhat from the main thrust of this little postette…

..I hate mornings!

So to have to swing my body up from the horizontal to something that faintly resembled the vertical at an hour that my brain hasn’t even begun to register in its 40 odd years of registering, means that something is afoot.

Karate tournament day!

Quite why I keep on going is not entirely clear to me.  I inevitably come back with a myriad of injuries; broken fingers, thumbs, toes and more bruises than an upset apple cart.  Add to that the shockingly quick exit from any bout that I stumble into, and get carried out from, and you begin to understand why friends and family all ask, what I hinted to at the beginning of this paragraph;

“Why do you keep going?  You’re rubbish!”

To be honest it’s probably because I am SO bad at this tournament malarkey that makes me want to keep on going back, that and because it is such a huge amount of fun!  We all need to stretch ourselves, to get that knot of fear in your stomach as you realise that your names just been called and you are now expected to either complete a complex sequence of moves in front of a room full of critical eyes OR be faced against someone whose trouser-holding-up-device is several shades darker than yours and has a somewhat alarming glint in their eye as they stare back at you!

Tongue suddenly dries up and attaches to the roof of the mouth, vision tunnels, orifices pucker up and you step into the ring…

That said, what made this tournament all the more exciting was the number of my students, both past and present, who were also attending.  To be able to see them take those first nervous steps and be there to cheer them on as they go through the exact same emotions *and* do better than I was able to do was way WAY more rewarding!  Not all of them got medals, and that didn’t matter, but a large amount of them did… and some of them even managed faux precious metals that I haven’t achieved as yet!

Proud much? Oh yeah!

..Of course, as the title kinda suggests, one thing does tend to follow the other.  Fortunately the “fall” was rather more literal than philosophical, and even more fortunate wasn’t captured on any photographic device for later evidence.  Team Kumite is a roller-coaster of a ride and doesn’t tend to allow you to blink let alone prepare yourself for the onslaught, and this particular team kumite was producing more injuries than the rest of the tournament put together!

I don’t think I have to dwell on my literal downfall;  suffice to say my opponents sweep was excellent, the crunching of my already broken toe was a nice touch, and the kick to the chest allows those colleagues who didn’t attend to ask; “how the f**k did you get a bruise THERE?!”… I think I’d feel cheated if I didn’t come away from these events without some form of injury that didn’t persist for at least a week… or four!

Oh, and of course I couldn’t let it slide that number one son managed to get his first medal too!  Proud parent and all that

When I was younger, as is the want of small boys, I could be found doing mock ninja battles or showing off my martial arts skills in homage to my heroes on TV, more often than not this would usually be “Monkey“.

Although I started karate, a few years back, for very noble reasons; the pursuit of fitness, control, the learning of ancient japanese martial arts, and of course to not be beaten up by my own kids… a little part of me was also the young boy playing Monkey in the playground.

I think it’s fair to say that, at no point in time, did my playground playing include hideously drunk idiots taking wild pot-shots at me.

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Another weekend completed and another GKR karate tournament competed.  Very soon, if I keep this sort of thing up, I’ll become an old hand at this malarky … which is more than my hand will become as I have managed to damage it once more whilst laying it, with forceful intent, upon somebody else’s person.  Enough of that story though.

This particular tournament I was accompanied by sprogs #1 and #2 on their first steps into competitive posing, flailing and shouting.  Unfortunately they didn’t win any medals but I was HUGELY proud of the way they conducted themselves both during and after their time in the ring.  Teaches them an important lesson too, I suppose, that you can’t win at everything – which School seems scared to teach them, in case it damages their delicate psyche!

I, also, didn’t do very well at the individual level and was somewhat relieved that Sensei wasn’t around to see the woeful effort that was my kata… who swapped my feet with a 7 year olds when I wasn’t looking?!

This did give me the opportunity to go around and “ra-ra” from the sidelines as a fair number of my fellow Sensei’s did get their medals.  We were competing for Silver and Gold in both the male and female instructor levels!  What a dilemma; Who do you cheer for when you want both of them to win?!

(I have just noticed the judicious use of “we” in that last paragraph.  I think Sarah, Katie, Shaun and Daz actually probably managed their collective bling amassing without my aid)

However, what personally what made my tournament the more enjoyable was being involved in the Team Kumite.  It wasn’t the fact that we came away with a Bronze medal, it was the sheer look of joy and excitement in Ed’s voice when he realised we had gotten past the first round.  The exclaimed “We’ve never gotten this far before!” and huge grin were worth far more than any lump of metal draped around the neck.

Title Disclaimer:
When asking your son to remember the word “YAKP”, as you concentrate on something else, remember to tell him that it stands for “Yet Another Karate Post” and not get into a conversation about the colour, texture, smell and relevance of “Yak Pee”.

The 10 minutes of confused cross-talking that went on, and combined “you what?!” looks, is not something to be reproduced.