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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www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cuRkVB-xwU

..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…

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.

I’ve had a few people ask me “what exactly did you do?”, but in truth I am not exactly sure.

It wasn’t some long drawn out affair, like you see on television, only about 15 or 20 seconds from first appearance to end whimper.  There was a swing of the fist, there was an unthinking reply to that, and it was all over.

Maybe surprisingly I have mixed feelings about the whole episode.  Somewhat happy that Sensei’s lesson are, in some form, finally getting through my thick skull; but then again, somewhat embarrassed that I can’t remember what I did, or that it didn’t match entirely what I had been taught… maybe.

We’re taught, within our particular flavour of karate, to control our strikes and to restrain that last inch before making contact with whoever we are sparring.  It is somewhat surprising, then, to find out what is within yourself when you release that final inch.

…and mostly somewhat sad that my first proper use of karate was on some drunk and not battling demons and bad guys like in the playground.

Growing up can be such a buggaration sometimes!

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.