Krav Maga

So, Michael and I have been attending a local Krav Maga class. I originally signed up because Michael found out about it, and I wanted do something together (besides, ya know, watch TV). I was hesitant at first, because this is very, very outside of my comfort zone, but after our short intro class I became a lot more interested. Sure, I had heard of Krav Maga, and knew what it was, but I had never done anything like this before! I am far, far, far from coordinated, and I have NO arm strength what-so-ever! So my anxiety levels were pretty darn high for the intro and first class.

I only have three classes under my belt, but I feel really good about this! Not only does it teach you self defense, but it's a great work out. After my first real class I was in A LOT of pain. I couldn't even walk up one flight of stairs at work. Thank God for elevators, because it was super bad.

Our instructors are great! They are very friendly, don't make fun of you, help you out and cheer you on. They do make me do push ups in the warm-up though. I assume they only make us do push ups to secretly laugh at me doing them. I do not know how to do a push up correctly. Never have, never will. My butt is always in the air; seriously, how do you keep it down?

I think the hardest part in the class for me is holding the mats for my partner to punch and kick. I have no arm strength, and while it doesn't physically hurt to absorb the blow into the padding, it's exhausting for me. I have to breathe out at impact, and usually stumble back a bit too.

Unfortunately, after about 20 minutes of punching, elbowing and kicking in today's class, I started to see black spots and felt nauseous. Yup, I was that person. I left the room and went to the bathroom. I can't remember any other time I literally felt like I was about to black out, so I was pretty scared of collapsing. There was a little girl waiting in the hallway by the restrooms, and she stared at me like I was already dead. I am very pale as it is, but when I looked in the mirror I really was white as a sheet. Poor kid must've thought she was seeing a ghost!

The nausea and black spots subsided after a few minutes, so I rejoined the boys for the remainder of the class. Of course, the movement brought on my "yuck" again, but I survived! It's funny, because before we left for the class I told Mike my tummy felt "fuzzy". I didn't know how else to describe it, but it wasn't really hurting, so I didn't think it'd amount to anything. My guess is that I just didn't drink enough water beforehand, and since I hate exercise and my body isn't used to it, I was overworked.

Just after these few classes, I feel more well rounded. I already know how to handle different firearms, and now I am more prepared to defend myself with my body. I have never been in a fight, and hope and pray that I never find myself in one, but better safe than sorry, right? I am positive that in most people's eyes I am an easy target: I am a girl, I am blond and I am not built like an athlete. But,  now I feel like I'll have a better chance at winning!

Hot and Humid

It is very hot and humid here today! While taking the dogs for a walk, I through my hair up in a pony tail and was reminded of my reinvention poem I wrote a few years back. So, I thought I'd share it with you here.

Stretching for Uses
 

A thin beige circle of rubber,

speckled with grey smudges.

Flexible and ambiguous

it can morph into any shape.

Lost in the junk drawer’s black hole,

But it’s a celebrity in the office, 

offering a chorus of claps, snaps and boings.

A free bracelet.

A bully’s sling shot or

a mischievous catapult in the classroom,

launching ammo

at unsuspecting victims.

After a Thanksgiving feast,

let it loop through your button hole,

and reach for the prize.

Bring on dessert.

Clutching the bananas,

grasping the newspaper,

uniting the pencils. 

When your shoelace breaks,

when Grandma locks the kitchen cabinets,

when a mother pulls her hair up in the relentless August heat,

when a Band-Aid isn’t available,

the rubber band is re-invented.

Help A Stranger!

Michael and I were headed to the dog park yesterday, when we noticed a person in need of some assistance. We saw an older man on the ground, trapped under his bicycle in the apron of Bergstrom's driveway. I think Mike and I saw him at the same time, because just as I was saying "help him!" Mike quickly swerved into the driveway and got out.

The man was older, I'd say in his late 50s. He was flailing his arms and legs, like the bike was twisted around his body, but Mike was able to pull the bicycle off and help him up. Turns out he wasn't tangled up, just stuck. The man said he nicked the edge of the curb with his bicycle tire, and fell. I'm so glad he was OK! Whew! He was even wearing a neon safety vest and helmet! How much more safe can you get?

The sad part was there was a salesman and two customers checking out a car in the parking lot not too far away.  I don't know what their excuse was; maybe they really didn't see it or hear it. To their credit, the man was not yelling for help (I don't think). I am just glad I am with a guy who will swerve out of his way to help someone.

Come to think of it, this isn't the first time he's done something like this. He has helped pull cars out that are stuck in snow a couple of times! So if you're stuck, and a man comes to help you, he may not be a creeper--just a helper! It's hard to tell now a days though, huh?