Leaf, probably…

Today I spent lunch down on the waterfront with Kat, Becks, Jeri and Maike.

Usually when we all get together it’s fun and we laugh a lot, and bitch about boys and relationships, and talk about punching things. Our meetings make me feel powerful, capable, and happy. 

When it’s time to go I leave with a sense of direction and a cool ball of calm lodged just under my rib cage. Not many people give me calm. I value the ones that do highly.

We were all there on the waterfront today for Kat - one of the very few people that I actually hero worship.

Over three years ago now she introduced me to kickboxing and changed pretty much my entire outlook on life. To everyone else she’s the person who taught me how to throw a nice punch, to me she’s the person who taught me that I can be badass.

Kat can make me do things I never would have thought about trying without her influence. Like the time I did two boxing classes in a row for her. Or the time she convinced me to try scuba diving.

She’s the first person I think of when I need courage, or no nonsense ‘get your butt into gear’ advice. And I have a feeling I’m going to be needing that sort of advice quite a bit in the next few months.

All in all she’s one of my favorite people, and even though she’s younger than me I look up to her like the totally badass big sister I’ve come to see her as.

Today’s get together on the waterfront wasn’t about boys or laughing about crap, or punching things.

It was because Kat is going to Rarotonga for a long time. She’s planning on doing her diving instructors exams while working in one of the dive shops over there. We were all there to say goodbye to Kat, and to try and keep our collective raging jealousy under control.

When I left I didn’t have a sense of purpose, and I sure as fuck didn’t have a nice cool ball of calm under my ribs. Instead I have a messy ball of weepy sad GIRL.

I haven’t lost it and actually cried yet, but it’s probably not far away. In fact at 1.15pm tomorrow I’m going to be standing with my hands pressed to my office window watching Wellington airport and blubbering like a big baby.

It’s hard to be badass when you’re sad.

Kat: Have an awesome time, but not too awesome, because we all want you back.

Kempo was an interesting diversion from the usual. It started at 7pm and was in town, so it gave me time to catch up over beer and orange juice with Ben.

The class itself was easy enough to find after our host had leaned out of the top story window to yell instructions at us…

Once we got up into the gym we were greeted with a boxing class doing their thing - and oh my god did I want to go join in! I’m always a bit surprised at just how much I miss throwing on a pair of gloves and punching the shit out of something.

It looked like a good class because it was nearing the end and most of the participants looked like warmed over death.

The gym is called Gloves Boxing Gym, and it’s near Webb St in Mt Cook. It has a mat area set aside for Kempo. We formed up and the instructor gave a ’readers digest’ intro to his art - which turns out to use a lot of pressure points.

We were there to learn a few holds and how to apply pressure points and body waves to those holds. I think some of the stuff I learnt will be handy for Taekwon-Do especially when we’re doing self defence - even if it wasn’t quite the workout I was hoping for.  

I found out how to successfully do a hold that makes the other persons arm look like an ‘S’. I also found that that particular hold doesn’t work well on me (because I am a girl, and bendy, and a ‘water’ type…) unless the other person compresses my wrist.

I also learnt that if you vibrate one, or both of your hands while doing certain holds then you can increase the effectiveness of your holds. Also you can make your partner squeal like a girl and drop to the floor like a brick.

Holds and pressure points are fun.

Overall the class was fun, but it did serve to reinforce that I made the right decision when I chose Taekwon-Do.

When I (finally) got home I grabbed a pair of scissors and hacked a couple of inches off the bottom of my hair.

It doesn’t look too bad, but someone should definitely remove the scissors from the bathroom cupboard. 

I promise I’ll go to a hairdresser next time.

Last night I arrived at Taekwon-Do to find a bunch of younger members wrapped up in protective padding and attempting to beat the living heck out of each other.

In one corner was a crying 10 year old surrounded by a group of people assuring him that it was just a hard hit. On the other side of the hall two white belts were being restrained with a hand on each head by a black belt who was trying to install the idea of gentle punches. By the looks of the resulting match the idea didn’t get very far at all.

‘Hmm’ I thought as I tried to become one with the coat table, ‘I’ve always wanted to spar, but this doesn’t look like an awful lot of fun.’

The juniors finished and us seniors formed up, warmed up, and then went in search of adequate padding. (At the time I was thinking adequate padding would be nothing short of a giant blow up sumo suit.)

For sparring we received a pair of padded foot protectors, some gloves - like open handed boxing gloves - and optional headgear. Those in the know had also brought along shin guards, mouth guards, and the guys had groin guards.

I hovered in the background until I was ordered up onto the mat for my arse kicking. I dragged my feet the whole way -  I wanted everyone to know that it wasn’t my idea to be pummled to death by a tall guy with a very cool belt.

The foot protectors made my feet feel clumsy, and my toes hurt where they rubbed (later I found I had worn the skin off the top of my big toe - ouch!) The gloves weren’t as heavy as what I was used to - and much more rigid than my own boxing gloves. And the head protector was flat out awful.

Jamming my face into a spot where someone else’s sweaty face had been moments before was unpleasant. The elastic strap across my chin more than often sat on my throat, and in some cases was far too tight for comfortable breathing - in the end I discarded the head protector, and just went with a ladies agreement not to hit or be hit in the face (although I get the feeling guys don’t exactly play by those rules.)

On the mats I felt slow, and stiff. My kicks were often not high enough, and I stuck with the one or two I knew I could do without arsing over. Often others had the same problem though, and after collecting a sharp kick to my hip bone I know why we stay above the belt - even for girls - OUCH. 

My blocks often felt entirely ineffective. A lot of the time I forgot to jump right in after my partner had struck out. I got a lot of help from a few of the guys who made me practice jumping right on in there after a kick rather than hanging back out of range.

I also had to learn not to stand front on, like I did in kickboxing. Thankfully after a few solid kicks to the stomach you learn not to leave yourself wide open like that, unless you like the feeling of trying to suck air through a straw, that is.

Worst of all it felt like I only knew three moves from the first page of the manual, while everyone else had the whole book.

Each time I was called up to the mats I went reluctantly, probably chewing at my lip the way I do when I’m worried.

And I was - worried that is. I don’t like being bad at things - and I really don’t like being kicked in the stomach or punched in the face…

… So do me a favor and don’t tell anyone that I totally loved it, ok? Good.

_____

The text I sent immediatly afterwards: I just did proper sparring and it hurt and it was awesome :) 
The response: You’re a violence-aholic

Lately I’ve been feeling a bit negative. Uni has started up again, leaving me with less free time, and more work to do. Work has stepped up again, and I’m finding very little there to keep me interested  or motivated. My gym still doesn’t have any kickboxing classes I can attend, and as a result of that and stress I’m getting very little sleep.

All of this has had me trapped in a nasty mindset, example - I hate the bus. Uni blows. I hate my job. I should quit. Why bother it’s all just going to go down hill because I’m getting old. I’m so old all my muscles hurt. Old people need more sleep in the mornings. I hate having to get up. I’m only going to spend the rest of my life in admin hell anyway. Why bother finding clean clothes for that? And I’m never going to be allowed a puppy. - all before 8am this morning. (I’m just a beam of gleaming, life-filled sunshine in the mornings…)

So I thought I’d spend some time today reminding myself of things I love:

• Wiggling my fingers under the sand to attract fish.
• Cantering bareback on horses.
• Eating gherkins.
• Smelling freshly popped popcorn.
• Owning a computer (Come back, Marvin!)
• Wearing my dobok.
• Roundhouse kicks.
• Equalising.
• Fixing someone elses computer problem.
• Figuring out how to make my computer do something that I didn’t think it could.
• Making conversation with the old people who call our office phone.
• Hour long baths with yummy smelling products. And a book. Also a small bag of M&M’s and a big glass of chilled water.
• Having people believe the stories I make up.
• Cranberry Juice.
• The sound of my boxing glove slamming into a pad when I do a right hook.
• My boxing wraps.
• Catching up with friends.
• Connecting with new people.
• Knowing I did well.
• The Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra.
• Beating the photocopier into submission when no one else can.
• Winning stuff.
• Free stuff in general.
• House, Bones, and Boston Legal.
• Putting up the Xmas tree.
• Wrapping gifts.
• Getting my hair cut or coloured.
• Giggling.
• Dreaming interesting dreams.
• Getting letters and packages.
• Waking up slowly on weekends.
• Waking up early on weekends when Ben’s over.
• Walking dogs.
• Cats purring.
• Taking photos.
• Knowing where my phone is.
• Neatly packing boxes.
• Fresh sheets.
• Laughing with Mum when she tells me gossip.
• Doing Dad stuff with dad when I visit home.
• Running through kickboxing combos in my head instead of counting sheep.
• Finding a new hobby.
• Neck and shoulder rubs.
• Hugs.
• Learning New things.
• Helping someone else learn new things.
• Cold water, after standing for 1/2 an hour in the sun in a wet suit.
• Lukewarm showers.
• Biting into Kit Kat chocolate bars.
• Old jeans.
• Romance Novels.
• Watching other people dance.
• Going to the theater.
• Seeing the circus.

Version 1

Shan: Listen I’m not happy. You’ve cancelled all my classes. When the hell am I supposed to hit things? I hate working out on my own. I don’t do it, so you have to start more classes I can come to.

Gym Manager: If you’re not happy feel free to leave. I won’t be starting up new classes, so suck on that.

Shan: Fine. I will leave. Just see if I don’t. I’m not scared of gaining a million pounds. Or not sleeping ever again.

Version 2

Gym Manager: So how is it all going Shannon?

Shan: Erm, not so great actually.
You see I’ve cut way down from four to five times a week here to once or twice a week. And even then it’s just not a great work out. I hate working out on my own, and it seems like the timetable, has just dropped off to classes I can’t attend.
Where are all the 6pm classes? and the kickboxing? I was so crushed when you dropped that. I went out and joined Taekwon Do.

Gym Manager: Actually I know exactly what you mean. I’m fiddling around with the timetable and see what I can do about throwing a few more classes in, and most probably a Power Box at 6pm.

Shan: Awesome.

Gym Manager: In the mean time, lets book you a one on one boxing session, and make you up a workout timetable for three days a week.
We’ll include some cardio, free weights, and swissball to help with balance and flexibility, which should help you out for Taekwon Do. Then in six weeks time we’ll meet again, and look at a new programme.

Question to the class: Which version do you think went down last night? Hint: Shannon’s gym is pretty awesome, and she doesn’t know why she was worried about telling them she wasn’t happy, and what she wanted in the first place.

Last night I attended my very first Taekwon-Do class in Kilbirnie with the (confusingly named) Miramar Taekwon-Do Club.

Miramar Taekwon-Do is a member of the International Taekwon-Do Federation, and this particular club is the second oldest in New Zealand. They spice up the punching and kicking and blocking bits with a hefty dose of theory, and a holistic approach to learning the art (they even swear an oath at the beginning of each class.)

I actually really enjoyed myself, despite the nervousness of being the newbie, and the weirdness of what I was asking my body to do (especially after 3 years of gym-brand kickboxing.)

I noticed some pretty BIG differences to what I had been practicing. In kickboxing your centre of balance seems to be more forward and you tend to fight more straight on, whereas in Taekwon-Do they take a wider stance with more of an angle to their bodies, and the centre of balance is more centre. (Because that makes sense right?!)

At the gym we’ve been doing a roundhouse kick, jabs, hooks, uppercuts and bodyshots. Last night we did a few jab-type punches, which were sufficiently different to have me feeling slightly awkward, and five or six different kicks which completely threw me off balance. I haven’t felt awkward kicking or throwing a punch for a year now, so its a change. It’ll be good for me.

Plus now I need to learn how to kick higher than my own head. I saw a 4th dan black belt do it, and I’ve decided I need to know that - because what a party trick, right?!

So far I’ve learnt that a punch or a kick in Taekwon-Do is rarely a one step movement like it is in kickboxing. There seems to be a whole heap of intermediate movements, and how you get to the end point of the punch is just as important as the bang it makes there (although, yes, the bang is pretty cool.)

Also? I’ve never thought of kickboxing as a standstill kind of thing, but compared to some of the movement involved in Taekwondo I’m wondering how the hell I missed it before.

All in all it’s not a replacement for kickboxing. Taekwon-Do is a whole new thing, and one I can see myself getting fairly obsessed about.

Good lord I’m bored. I have absolutely nothing to write about today, aside from the fact that the gym - which I have been a member of for 3 years - is no longer holding any kickboxing classes I can attend. In fact they’re only holding one. The Lambton Quay gym is the same, and I even checked out the Kilbirnie gym with no luck.

(While we’re on that WHO is able to make a 12.30pm Boxing session on the other side of the CBD? Tell me and I’ll punch them for having such a long flexible lunch-break.)

Kickboxing is the only reason I’ve been so into this gym for so long! This might actually end the obsession I’ve had with working out since I discovered the kickboxing classes. Then again it might also be the end of regular sleep patterns and a size 12 waistline.

I haven’t kicked anything for three weeks, and might actually be going mad.

This morning when my bus was late I wanted to punch the concrete pole next to the bus stop. I didn’t because it would have hurt, but I did consider it for a good 30 seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth it.

This week’s task: Must find suitably bad-ass replacement for kickboxing.

Shan
OMG I can’t believe you matched your shoes to your boxing gloves….
Actually that gives me an idea, the person who is the most colour
co-ordinated on Thursday gets to make other people do lunge kicks! Whee!

Becks
It was a lucky coincidence …. hmmm … I might have my work cut out
for me if I want the title of “most colour coordinated” - given you had
the matching t-shirt/headband thing going on yesterday.

Shan
oh yeah… plus i pretty much only own black boxing things, and black
work-out gear (hey what can I say, Black makes me feel skinny) So I will
be coming to boxing as DEATH.

Becks
The question is - can we introduce a scythe as part of the routine?
Because that would complete the Death outfit.

Combo - left, right, left, upper-cut, slash.
 

Boxing was fun. The wine had well and truly left my system by the time I had to strap on my gloves. Then I went and topped myself up with beer and pizza afterwards with the others from the gym.

I think the fun we all have hitting things together is the reason I haven’t gone up to the Victoria University Kickboxing to see if I can join in their fun yet. I think I’d miss having someone to gossip with, and I’d be the new person that is always getting it wrong and passing out because she’s not as fit as the dudes who have been there forever. That and diving is coming up, and I have to get onto running and bumping up the fitness for a possible tramping trip with the BF.

And on that whole fitness thing: Running is boring. The music at the gym blows. Staring at the wall gets boring. Where is this mythical ‘zone’ that everyone talks about? I don’t like running. The End. *

Or not quite - just one last thing… Diving is tonight, and I loved doing the homework! It was like the science homework in high-school - I loved that stuff. I did it for fun.

Did you know that the worst thing you can do while diving is hold your breath? If you did that you could blow up cause over expansion injuries your lungs. Did you realise that if you dived with goggles rather than a mask you could probably suck your eyeballs right out would experience a ’squeeze’. Also if you decided to challange your buddy to a 200 meter race at 20m under the water you’d be a fricking idiot probably experience some pretty full on symptoms of overexertion including a feeling of suffocation, weakness, fatigue, muscle cramping, laboured breathing, and I’d bet there would be a bit of anxiety and panic in there somewhere too…

*You have just been privy to one of Shannon’s famous whines. These are usually closely followed by footstamping and scowling. Stupid Running.

I just had a xmas lunch with the other secretaries and assistants in the complex where I work.

Remember that post I wrote about what a lightweight I am at drinking? Er, this one? Well there was much wine and merry-making at this lunch. I only had a glass and a (giant) half, but due to the aforementioned lightweightiness I might as well have just ordered a bucket of scotch to stick my head into. Now I have a pile of work to do, and a kickboxing session in two hours.

I’m attempting to flush my system with water (flush damn you! Flush!) otherwise I’ll be the only loser sitting on the sidelines with her gloves on.