“What distracts us?” my yoga teacher asked last week as we sat on our mats waiting for class to begin.
“People’s cell phones going off in class,” I thought darkly, wishing I could throw a few punches at the perpetrators as if I were in sparring class. What’s really been distracting me lately is physical pain. Usually when I’m distracted it’s more of the emotional or mental type—anxiety, anger, sadness, or simply my brain wheels clicking as I solve problems. But right now it’s good old-fashioned pain, that pain in my right hamstring that’s been bothering me for a few weeks now. I don’t know if it’s a tear, a pull, or just irritation from over-use but it’s starting to be a real pain in the…well, you know. Literally and figuratively.
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Little Black Belt is ONE! A Year in Review…

If you’ve completed filing your income tax returns then I’d like to invite you on a retrospective journey through the evolution of this blog—the discoveries, the triumphs, the tears, the deep questions, and most importantly, the jokes. If you haven’t completed filing your income tax returns….what the hell is wrong with you?? Get back to work!!
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Body of Work

This week’s lessons seemed to be much more intense, as if I’d been gone for several weeks and then rejoined slower and out of shape. In reality I was in the dojang four consecutive days last week (including my bo dan test) plus watched a black belt test on Saturday. By the end of this week I have taken five classes, two Epsom salt baths, many alternating cold and hot showers, twelve ibuprofen, used one big soft cloth ice pack, one heating pad, polished off the last of the prescription naproxen I had been hoarding, have a big ugly strawberry mark on my forearm, and a much-needed massage is scheduled for Saturday.
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Reluctant Role Model
My boyfriend, a former collegiate wrestler, took taekwondo many years ago to add some striking training to his repertoire; this was in the days pre-dating the prevalence of MMA gyms. He claimed that as a green belt he once received a kick to the face from a black belt that resulted in a nasty gash above his eye. Accidents happen during sparring, and I’ve had a few near-misses on the giving and receiving end. This black belt, however, was not exercising the restraint expected of higher-ranking belts when sparring with someone of a lower rank. He was going all out. As I’ve moved up in the ranks an interesting aspect of training has been a shift in mindset from being solely focused on my own training to a sense of responsibility for the rest of my little dojang community.
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Black Belt Boot Camp, Burpees, and Boys
“Up-downs,” my instructor said calmly, widening his eyes and smiling at us. It was the first class day after Friday’s and Saturday’s tests, but only four of us showed up, so my instructor must have decided he was going to whip us into shape black belt style. We had two new bo dans (me and a younger female student), a teenage bo dan who tested for black belt on Saturday and will likely be awarded his black belt in about a week, and a teenage black belt who will be testing for his 2nd dan in the fall. You would think a class of only high-ranking students would be deadly serious, mature, and determined. I have apparently forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager.
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The End of March Madness

Last night I went to the dojang for an extra day of practice, and it felt like I was finally turning a corner on what has been a weird, mentally foggy month spent in a dark exile of depression compounded by snacks, Netflix, and wine. I don’t know what the hell was up with March, but by the end of it I felt like wrapping myself in a blanket, shuffling around my home with all the blinds closed, and saying annoyingly morose poetic things like, “Now is the winter of my discontent.”
True North
Sometimes my yoga teacher will give us a topic to think about as we flow through poses and begin to quiet our bodies and minds. This past week he presented the concept of “true north”–connecting with and expressing who we really are. As I went about my week I wondered when (1) I was aligned with my true self (beyond the fear, worry, and narcissism of the ego) and (2) when and to whom I showed my true north. The concept of “true north” was brought up again in the different arenas of my life.
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South American Headache Remedy
Wednesdays are my long days and usually leave me exhausted, drenched in sweat, and mentally a little out of it by the time I get home. Seeing as it was my first week back after way too many schedule interruptions I was determined to go to class whether my body could keep up or not.
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The Devil is in the Details

“I’m not good with this technical mechanical stuff!” I shrieked in mock-desperation after a number of flubbed attempts at hand-to-hand techniques (painful twists and joint locks) with my partner. Including my instructor there were only four of us in advanced red and black belt class. It was getting late, and three of us were already worn out from an intense sparring class beforehand, so we were all getting a little loopy and giggly. Throwing in complicated and intricate self-defense work after a long day only fried my brain even more.
Adult Swim

I haven’t written a plain old “class diary” in a few weeks, and I can’t think of a better night than tonight’s debut of the adults only class. This may not sound like a big deal to those who belong to a mega-dojang, but we are a very small school. A new student (especially and adult) is an addition to be celebrated, and we ache from absences and drop-outs.
NOTE: This is intentionally a longer post than usual. I’m including details from tonight’s class in case any of my fabulous readers are martial artists and wish to use these techniques in their home dojang.
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