It’s been a busy few days. In the traditional lesson on Friday evening we pretty much just ran over all the stuff we’re going to need for this week’s(!) grading, making sure our Il Soo Sik Dae Ryun and Ho Sin Sool are tight, and I think on the whole they are ok now. We also had a walk-through of the newly changed first Bo form (Bong hyung il bu) which is now a kind of amalgam of what we knew as the first form, and a different form which is more like Kicho hyung il bu from the traditional curriculum. The form itself isn’t too hard, but the ‘presentation’ version of the form has a lot of spins in which are actually a little confusing at this point. It’ll be fine, once I have it set in my head which way the spin starts.
Saturday was fairly sedate, in fact sitting here now I really can’t remember much of the morning or afternoon at all. We took the dog for a bound on the beach, where he met an absolute clone of himself. Seriously, this dog looked almost identical, save for being a couple of years older. I wonder if there’s hope for ours to actually learn to chase and retrieve a ball….
Sunday morning had me up bright, early and industrious. As part of the healthy eating/weight loss (I refuse to say diet) thing I’m on at the moment, I can pretty much eat as much fruit as I like – and yes, I know there’s a lot of sugar in things like grapes, just before anyone points it out. So on Saturday evening I stocked up, and I mean seriously stocked up. Melons, mangoes, blueberries, white grapes, red grapes, strawberries, pineapples, kiwis… – you name it, I bought it. I had in mind a plan for the finest fruit salad known to man, which it has to be said, in my humble opinion, I managed. My enthusiasm in the supermarket means that I actually have enough left over to make it all again – great news! Mrs AdamR had a good laugh at my expense when I revealed the night before I had dreamed about not being able to find a massive bag of crisps in the kitchen. I think my body’s crying out for some crap to eat.
In the afternoon I popped round to see my Mum (it being Mothers’ Day and all), where she promptly dug out an old box of my stuff she came across while tidying. In the box were all sorts of keepsakes; things I’d made at school, little certificates, and the highlight – my old writing books. The books I wrote in at school when I must have been about 6 or 7 I suppose. They’re full of wisdom and interesting insights, for instance, did you know that ‘Red Indians (Native Americans P.C. crowd) used to kill buffalos so they could cut their tongues out and use them as hair brushes’? I must have been taught that at some point, surely there’s no way I came up with that by myself.
Sunday evenings are always training evenings. The irony of me saying that is that next Sunday our evening class is canceled due to the grading, but I digress. As always I got to the gym about half an hour early. You think I’d have learned by now that when the training venue is about half a mile away it doesn’t take 35 minutes to get there, but it’s a habit now. My car’s CD Player stopped working the other day and the last time that happened it was a fuse, so I decided to use the spare time to my advantage and show my prowess in electricals. I found the right fuse which was hidden away in a place only a highly-trained, very skinny monkey could get a hand to easily, yoinked it out and pushed a replacement in. Unfortunately I’d plugged it into the back of the fuse next to where it was meant to go, and when I pulled it out the other fuse came away too. Oops. I re-sat this second fuse (and reset the car’s clock, apparently that’s what fuse 21 does on a 1994 VW Polo if anyone cares) and actually managed to get the new one in. Lo and behold, music!
The normal lesson that night went smoothly and as is customary on every other week, those of us in the fight team stayed for an extra hour of sparring training. I got a couple of fights in, one against D which is always a fun event. I’ve taken more backfists to the head than I care to admit to from him, but usually manage to give as good as I get. I like fights I walk away from smiling and laughing. My second bout was with a newcomer to traditional TSD (we dragged him across from our kickboxing class), but is already shaping up to be a good fighter. JG opened the same way as he did the previous week, slipping a side kick under my guard. This always annoys me, it’s the point I tend to give away far more than any other, I guess there’s still more work needed on my part. It was such a close fight, considering he’s a 10th gup I took a bit of a pasting at points, including my least favourite part of the evening.
We’ve been asked to wear a groin guard in sparring training now as too many people have been taking accidental low-blows. Last night was the first time I remembered to bring mine and wear it, and what timing on my part. I can’t remember what I’d done, possibly a high left footed roundhouse, but I remember vividly being almost lifted of my feet by the kick which met with my nether regions. I couldn’t even stand, I just remember my legs buckling and being face down on the mat, curled up in the foetal position, utterly jack-knifed. My kidneys ached, as did the tenderised area, but not badly enough for me to finish the fight (which somehow I managed to edge, I’m not so sure I deserved it) – I can only imagine how much pain I’d still be in if it weren’t for that plastic cup. I might have cursed it when I bought it and when I have to wear it (the phrase ‘pint in a half-pint pot’ comes to mind), but it’s like an old friend now. I might call it ‘Mr Box’.
On second thoughts, I’m not sure I want a ‘Mister’ anything cupping me….