Attended a tournament today with the entire family. Trevor and Christine's first tourney ever. Stories there, but not right now. Briefly, everyone returned home with a bit of sparkly stuff, and some tears were shed nonetheless.
I came home with two medals. Here's a brief synopsis of the events leading to each.
1. Forms.
Advance to 5th gup two or so weeks ago. Immediately learn Pyang Ahn Sa Dan. Practice it like mad, in the morning at the gym and, at night at the dojang during regular class, and then during post-holiday/pre-tournament prep sessions. Obsess about each and every detail of the form, stressing out about the many small ways in which you could mess this thing up. Think about the form night and day. Worry and fret, but get the form solid and looking good. Attend the tournament. Get about a quarter of the way through the form, wobble on a single kick, and flake out. Start freaking out about your mistake. Forget one kick shortly thereafter, without realizing it, and spend the rest of the form trying to figure out why everything feels screwed up.
Tie for third, missing first by .1 point, and grab a bronze medal.
2. Sparring.
When registering to participate in the tournament, decide that you're going to just take it easy and not bother sparring during this tournament. After all, you've been doing physical therapy for two months for an injury you incurred while sparring back in October, so why tempt fate and risk re-injuring yourself? I mean, you're not even all that crazy about sparring all-in-all, so why push it? Show up, but bring your pads along just in case you change your mind. Run into KSM Sawyer on the way in, who persuades you to spar since there are so few guys in your age and rank range competing that day anyhow. Hit the ring after blowing your form, assuming that you'll just get your ass kicked but not really all that worried about it. Wind up getting a tie, then winning first place in a sudden-death re-match.
Win gold. Shake head in amusement.
So, lesson learned. Let's see if I can actually apply it in the upcoming year.
On another note altogether, one of the judges told me I looked way too young for my group. Specifically, while taking a rest break after tying on our first match, she told me I was lucky that I was allowed 30 seconds rest between matches since that was usually only allowed for seniors (that being anyone over 35). I told her, with a huge smile that a) I was 39 (to which she did the "Are you kidding me?" face...) and b) she was my favorite person in the entire world. I swear, someone could have taken the top of my head off with a side kick and I would still have felt it was a good day.
Mood: Happy, proud, tired, buzzed
Now Playing: Nothin'
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Loose Ends
I'm in a bit of a dark mood today. Trying to pull myself out of it, but so far I'm still kinda glum. Partly it's the now-familiar post-testing comedown. I was so edgy and amped up for this last test that I knew I was going to have a bit of a gray fog for a day or two after, but this one is a bit different.
I had this really vivid dream this morning. In it, I was initially at a Tang Soo Do tournament of some sort. It was odd, as there didn't seem to be any actual competing going on -- it was more of a social function. I remember sitting and eating with Master's Nunan and Riley, speaking briefly with Kwan Jhang Nim and meeting several fellow martial artists who I've never actually met face-to-face. This is hardly an unusual dream, really -- over the past few months my Tang Soo Do friends and family have been taking a more prominent place in my dream-life.
But then it got kind of weird. In the dream, my son Trevor was misbehaving and I told him to stop. Just as I did this, some guy at the table (who looked like a guy who recently started training at our dojang, but who wasn't "him" in the dream, you know?) told me that I should slap him in the head if he acts up. And I distinctly recall how angry this made me feel, and in the dream I came up out of my seat and got three inches from his face and stared him the eye and said "If you ever try to tell me how to raise my kids again, I swear to God I will kick your ass from here to the street and back again." The guy backed down, and then I got up and walked away from the table and suddenly, in the way dreams do, the location changed.
I was now on a sort of patio that was perched atop the stump of an enormous tree, at least 30 feet wide. And my old friend Mike McCrea was there, sitting at a table and he we sat down to have a drink. Now, I haven't seen or talked to Mike is almost 20 years. We were very close in high school, and he was probably the first "best friend" I ever had who was a guy, the first guy who I was close enough to hug and say "I love you" to without worrying whether that looked and sounded "gay" or not. At 17 that was a big deal -- the whole "what if someone thinks I'm gay?" idiocy that teenage boys go through, and so many of them never really outgrow as men. Now it seems so damn stupid.
Anyway, somewhere along the way -- either due to distance (he was in WA, I was in NY) or simply to the divergent paths our lives took -- we lost touch. I remember the last time I spoke to him -- it was just a week or so prior to the beginning of the Desert Storm back in Bush I's reign, and about 6-8 months after the last time I'd seen him, at his wedding in Tacoma (I was one of his groom's men). He called kind of out of nowhere and, after we chatted for a while, he intimated that he would probably be out of touch for a while, and that he couldn't really say why. He was a West Point graduate and an officer with the Army, so I have no doubt that he wound up going over there.
After that, we never spoke again. I doubt anything "bad" happened to him -- I think I would have heard had he been wounded or killed. Instead, I figure he just got busy with his life, and being on opposite sides of the country made things complicated. Newlywed, probably sent overseas, and very on-track for a successful career once he returned. And I was never very good at keeping in touch in those days, way too wrapped up in my own college-aged crap to write letters or pick up telephones.
So we just ... never spoke again.
I really regret that, now. I've tried to track him down, tentatively, via the internet, but really haven't ever found anything. I'm not sure that I'd get back in touch if I found him -- it's been far too long, and it would be very, very awkward.
But I hate loose ends.
So, anyway, in the dream we just chatted, and talked about old times. The details of that part are fuzzy, but it was nice. Warm. And it seemed so real, and I remember thinking in the dream that this was a good thing, that it was nice to be back in touch with someone I'd lost touch with so long ago, to finally tie up this loose end in a positive way. And then, Mike said he was going to have to go, and we had to climb down, over the railing of the patio, as there was no staircase. And in the dream I remember very specifically that I lowered myself with one arm, and that I was proud to be strong enough to do that without a problem.
And then we were walking along, and I knew that this was going to be the part of the dream where we talked about why we had lost touch. What was it? Was it something I'd said? Were we just too different, he in the military and so focused and together while I was deep in my college slacker phase? Or had we just gone on different roads? And I was so happy that I was finally going to know this, and we were going to get to see what strange and interesting turns our lives had each taken over the past couple of decades. And we were just chatting, heading toward our cars, making a few jokes, edging up to the big questions....
And then, my alarm went off. And as I woke up, my brain started sorting the details of the dream and my conscious mind explained to me, quickly and succinctly, that none of what I'd imagined had happened and that it was just another dream. And I felt the most distinct sense of disappointment, followed by sadness, as it became clear to my waking self that none of that had really happened. And then I got angry, because I really felt like if I'd just slept a few more minutes it would have all been made clear.
So, as a result I've been walking around with something of a dark cloud over my head ever since. Went to the gym this morning to work through it a bit -- I usually skip on Tuesdays because I attend an early class at the dojang so I can train with Christine, but given how close the holidays are getting and how much vacation time I have left I figure I can shave an hour of my work day here and there if I want. Hammered my way through Pyang Ahn Sa Dan and got the movements committed to memory so that I can begin working to polish it up for a competition at the end of the month. And while I felt better after working out, I'm still walking around with this vague sense of loss, weighing on me like a small stone in my chest.
Mood: Kinda down
Now Playing: Patty Griffin, "A Kiss in Time"
I had this really vivid dream this morning. In it, I was initially at a Tang Soo Do tournament of some sort. It was odd, as there didn't seem to be any actual competing going on -- it was more of a social function. I remember sitting and eating with Master's Nunan and Riley, speaking briefly with Kwan Jhang Nim and meeting several fellow martial artists who I've never actually met face-to-face. This is hardly an unusual dream, really -- over the past few months my Tang Soo Do friends and family have been taking a more prominent place in my dream-life.
But then it got kind of weird. In the dream, my son Trevor was misbehaving and I told him to stop. Just as I did this, some guy at the table (who looked like a guy who recently started training at our dojang, but who wasn't "him" in the dream, you know?) told me that I should slap him in the head if he acts up. And I distinctly recall how angry this made me feel, and in the dream I came up out of my seat and got three inches from his face and stared him the eye and said "If you ever try to tell me how to raise my kids again, I swear to God I will kick your ass from here to the street and back again." The guy backed down, and then I got up and walked away from the table and suddenly, in the way dreams do, the location changed.
I was now on a sort of patio that was perched atop the stump of an enormous tree, at least 30 feet wide. And my old friend Mike McCrea was there, sitting at a table and he we sat down to have a drink. Now, I haven't seen or talked to Mike is almost 20 years. We were very close in high school, and he was probably the first "best friend" I ever had who was a guy, the first guy who I was close enough to hug and say "I love you" to without worrying whether that looked and sounded "gay" or not. At 17 that was a big deal -- the whole "what if someone thinks I'm gay?" idiocy that teenage boys go through, and so many of them never really outgrow as men. Now it seems so damn stupid.
Anyway, somewhere along the way -- either due to distance (he was in WA, I was in NY) or simply to the divergent paths our lives took -- we lost touch. I remember the last time I spoke to him -- it was just a week or so prior to the beginning of the Desert Storm back in Bush I's reign, and about 6-8 months after the last time I'd seen him, at his wedding in Tacoma (I was one of his groom's men). He called kind of out of nowhere and, after we chatted for a while, he intimated that he would probably be out of touch for a while, and that he couldn't really say why. He was a West Point graduate and an officer with the Army, so I have no doubt that he wound up going over there.
After that, we never spoke again. I doubt anything "bad" happened to him -- I think I would have heard had he been wounded or killed. Instead, I figure he just got busy with his life, and being on opposite sides of the country made things complicated. Newlywed, probably sent overseas, and very on-track for a successful career once he returned. And I was never very good at keeping in touch in those days, way too wrapped up in my own college-aged crap to write letters or pick up telephones.
So we just ... never spoke again.
I really regret that, now. I've tried to track him down, tentatively, via the internet, but really haven't ever found anything. I'm not sure that I'd get back in touch if I found him -- it's been far too long, and it would be very, very awkward.
But I hate loose ends.
So, anyway, in the dream we just chatted, and talked about old times. The details of that part are fuzzy, but it was nice. Warm. And it seemed so real, and I remember thinking in the dream that this was a good thing, that it was nice to be back in touch with someone I'd lost touch with so long ago, to finally tie up this loose end in a positive way. And then, Mike said he was going to have to go, and we had to climb down, over the railing of the patio, as there was no staircase. And in the dream I remember very specifically that I lowered myself with one arm, and that I was proud to be strong enough to do that without a problem.
And then we were walking along, and I knew that this was going to be the part of the dream where we talked about why we had lost touch. What was it? Was it something I'd said? Were we just too different, he in the military and so focused and together while I was deep in my college slacker phase? Or had we just gone on different roads? And I was so happy that I was finally going to know this, and we were going to get to see what strange and interesting turns our lives had each taken over the past couple of decades. And we were just chatting, heading toward our cars, making a few jokes, edging up to the big questions....
And then, my alarm went off. And as I woke up, my brain started sorting the details of the dream and my conscious mind explained to me, quickly and succinctly, that none of what I'd imagined had happened and that it was just another dream. And I felt the most distinct sense of disappointment, followed by sadness, as it became clear to my waking self that none of that had really happened. And then I got angry, because I really felt like if I'd just slept a few more minutes it would have all been made clear.
So, as a result I've been walking around with something of a dark cloud over my head ever since. Went to the gym this morning to work through it a bit -- I usually skip on Tuesdays because I attend an early class at the dojang so I can train with Christine, but given how close the holidays are getting and how much vacation time I have left I figure I can shave an hour of my work day here and there if I want. Hammered my way through Pyang Ahn Sa Dan and got the movements committed to memory so that I can begin working to polish it up for a competition at the end of the month. And while I felt better after working out, I'm still walking around with this vague sense of loss, weighing on me like a small stone in my chest.
Mood: Kinda down
Now Playing: Patty Griffin, "A Kiss in Time"
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Post-Gup Test Feelings
So yeah, yesterday was quite a day. All of the members of my family that train in Tang Soo Do tested for rank. My mom, both my kids, my wife and I -- three generations, three separate tests. A very long day, but a wonderful day nonetheless.
First, at 9:30 yesterday morning, Christine and Trevor tested for 8th gup/orange belt. Christine was enormously prepared for this test -- she could have tested three months ago, but she chose to pass on testing until Trevor was ready to advance so that he wouldn't get demotivated. Because of this, though, the last couple of months have been a bit frustrating for her, training-wise, as she is eager to pick up new stuff but couldn't really do much in the way of new curriculum until she moved up. But she hung in there and kept plugging away at her basic stuff, and her preparation really showed on the mat. Her form and technique were solid, and her attitude was assured and confident throughout.
Trevor did very, very well also. At the beginning of the test, during line drills, he seemed distracted and had trouble staying focused -- he kept watching the other testers to see what they did before he would perform a technique. But as the test got rolling his confidence seemed to take hold, he began to trust himself more, and by the end of the test he was rock solid. He made some errors in one of his forms and had to redo it, by himself, in front of the testing board, and he didn't flinch for a second. No stage fright, no frustration or embarrassment.
That was the first time I nearly cried yesterday. It was far from the last. And when he broke his board I had to wipe a few tears away before I could take more pictures.
Miranda and my mom tested in the next session, both of them testing to advance to 6th gup/green belt. Again, a solid test all around. No serious problems to speak of, and Miranda's energy and focus were top notch throughout. Mom managed to not injure herself this time around (she messed up her toes good during the last test), and despite all her jitters and habit of running herself down she showed great technique and discipline throughout the test.
Miranda wasn't able to break her board using a foot technique, but she was in good company -- most of the kids were unable to do it yesterday, and several of the adults had trouble as well. I definitely get the feeling that board breaking problems are contagious. In Miranda's case, she's just scared of the board for some reason. She has a hell of a kick, and when she's working with a practice pad or dummy she can just about kick it across the room. But put her in front of a piece of wood and she begins pulling her kicks at contact, convinced that the wood is going to hurt her foot. She got very upset at not being able to break, but pulled herself back together, sparred, and completed testing without any other problems at all.
Then, finally, at nearly 3:00, my test got rolling. Once again, I was the only adult on the mat -- me, and a dozen pre-teens. There were 5 kids going for their red belts, 5 going for 4th gup (second stripe on their green belt), and three of us going for 5th gup. I had my testing-buddy, Kayleigh, with me though, which was nice. We've tested together every time except once (when I had to do a makeup due to scheduling problems), and she's just a terrific kid. Sweet natured and a bit unsure of herself, I really enjoy testing with her as it gives me someone to focus on and encourage -- she's good, and just needs some encouragement out of the mat so that she remembers it. The other 6th gup who was testing with me was also named Kayleigh: She's a riot, and one hell of a little martial artist in the making. Frankly, I think the three of us showed up the 5th gups a bit with our energy and preparation.
I was so nervous leading up to my test -- more nervous than I've been since I tested for 8th gup way back in the beginning of the year. I'm not sure why, exactly -- I felt a bit shaky on my line drills, but overall I know I was plenty prepared. For some reason this particular test was psyching me out a bit, though. I think it was all the jump kicks. I only started really working on them a couple of weeks back, and I just didn't feel solid on them yet. Regardless, all the nervousness was just wasted energy -- the test went really well, and I only made a couple of minor errors that I'm aware of. In fact I think it was one of my better test performances.
Oddly I'm having trouble remembering details of the test, today. I kind of got tunnel vision once the test began, just listening for the commands and busting out the corresponding techniques, not really stopping to think about much of anything until after we finished our forms and had to sit off the mat for a little while. And by then all the stuff I was stressing over (line drills, forms) was complete and I just had wrist grabs, one steps, sparring, and terminology to deal with, none of which were troubling me much at all. I had to do an improvised one-step, which came out really good -- I think that, judging by a comment of two I heard from the testing board, it actually looked a bit like one of the more advanced one steps I'll be learning soon, so that's pretty cool. It was a bit sloppy, but was certainly effective.
The most significant thing I took away from this test is that I need to be more mindful of controlling my power when I'm nervous. At one point in the test I had to break out of a bear hug and get my opponent to the floor. Luckily, they paired me with Mr. Kannan for that one, because in my nervousness I really put too much power into the break (solid elbow jab to his hip/abdomen) and the subsequent throw (rolled him up and over my shoulder, onto his back on the mat with resounding and solid THUMP). If I'd done that with a less experienced student I could really have hurt them. As it was I apologized to Aravind repeatedly, because in spite of the fact that he is solid and capable of taking those sorts of hits without my really hurting him, it was still a failure of control on my part and it could have resulted in an injury.
Lesson learned. Have to apply it better next time.
Mood: A bit drained
Now Playing: The Shins, "Wincing the Night Away"
First, at 9:30 yesterday morning, Christine and Trevor tested for 8th gup/orange belt. Christine was enormously prepared for this test -- she could have tested three months ago, but she chose to pass on testing until Trevor was ready to advance so that he wouldn't get demotivated. Because of this, though, the last couple of months have been a bit frustrating for her, training-wise, as she is eager to pick up new stuff but couldn't really do much in the way of new curriculum until she moved up. But she hung in there and kept plugging away at her basic stuff, and her preparation really showed on the mat. Her form and technique were solid, and her attitude was assured and confident throughout.
Trevor did very, very well also. At the beginning of the test, during line drills, he seemed distracted and had trouble staying focused -- he kept watching the other testers to see what they did before he would perform a technique. But as the test got rolling his confidence seemed to take hold, he began to trust himself more, and by the end of the test he was rock solid. He made some errors in one of his forms and had to redo it, by himself, in front of the testing board, and he didn't flinch for a second. No stage fright, no frustration or embarrassment.
That was the first time I nearly cried yesterday. It was far from the last. And when he broke his board I had to wipe a few tears away before I could take more pictures.
Miranda and my mom tested in the next session, both of them testing to advance to 6th gup/green belt. Again, a solid test all around. No serious problems to speak of, and Miranda's energy and focus were top notch throughout. Mom managed to not injure herself this time around (she messed up her toes good during the last test), and despite all her jitters and habit of running herself down she showed great technique and discipline throughout the test.
Miranda wasn't able to break her board using a foot technique, but she was in good company -- most of the kids were unable to do it yesterday, and several of the adults had trouble as well. I definitely get the feeling that board breaking problems are contagious. In Miranda's case, she's just scared of the board for some reason. She has a hell of a kick, and when she's working with a practice pad or dummy she can just about kick it across the room. But put her in front of a piece of wood and she begins pulling her kicks at contact, convinced that the wood is going to hurt her foot. She got very upset at not being able to break, but pulled herself back together, sparred, and completed testing without any other problems at all.
Then, finally, at nearly 3:00, my test got rolling. Once again, I was the only adult on the mat -- me, and a dozen pre-teens. There were 5 kids going for their red belts, 5 going for 4th gup (second stripe on their green belt), and three of us going for 5th gup. I had my testing-buddy, Kayleigh, with me though, which was nice. We've tested together every time except once (when I had to do a makeup due to scheduling problems), and she's just a terrific kid. Sweet natured and a bit unsure of herself, I really enjoy testing with her as it gives me someone to focus on and encourage -- she's good, and just needs some encouragement out of the mat so that she remembers it. The other 6th gup who was testing with me was also named Kayleigh: She's a riot, and one hell of a little martial artist in the making. Frankly, I think the three of us showed up the 5th gups a bit with our energy and preparation.
I was so nervous leading up to my test -- more nervous than I've been since I tested for 8th gup way back in the beginning of the year. I'm not sure why, exactly -- I felt a bit shaky on my line drills, but overall I know I was plenty prepared. For some reason this particular test was psyching me out a bit, though. I think it was all the jump kicks. I only started really working on them a couple of weeks back, and I just didn't feel solid on them yet. Regardless, all the nervousness was just wasted energy -- the test went really well, and I only made a couple of minor errors that I'm aware of. In fact I think it was one of my better test performances.
Oddly I'm having trouble remembering details of the test, today. I kind of got tunnel vision once the test began, just listening for the commands and busting out the corresponding techniques, not really stopping to think about much of anything until after we finished our forms and had to sit off the mat for a little while. And by then all the stuff I was stressing over (line drills, forms) was complete and I just had wrist grabs, one steps, sparring, and terminology to deal with, none of which were troubling me much at all. I had to do an improvised one-step, which came out really good -- I think that, judging by a comment of two I heard from the testing board, it actually looked a bit like one of the more advanced one steps I'll be learning soon, so that's pretty cool. It was a bit sloppy, but was certainly effective.
The most significant thing I took away from this test is that I need to be more mindful of controlling my power when I'm nervous. At one point in the test I had to break out of a bear hug and get my opponent to the floor. Luckily, they paired me with Mr. Kannan for that one, because in my nervousness I really put too much power into the break (solid elbow jab to his hip/abdomen) and the subsequent throw (rolled him up and over my shoulder, onto his back on the mat with resounding and solid THUMP). If I'd done that with a less experienced student I could really have hurt them. As it was I apologized to Aravind repeatedly, because in spite of the fact that he is solid and capable of taking those sorts of hits without my really hurting him, it was still a failure of control on my part and it could have resulted in an injury.
Lesson learned. Have to apply it better next time.
Mood: A bit drained
Now Playing: The Shins, "Wincing the Night Away"
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