Are We Having Fun Yet?

Monday evening, after our regular karate class, Master Tony invited me to join his taekwondo group in the hour following.

This was interesting on multiple levels. Firstly, I had no idea they were doing taekwondo at all in the subsequent hour. My untrained eye couldn't see the distinctions between karate and taekwondo, so I presumed the class after mine was advanced karate, just as the schedule had indicated. And they meet again Tuesday nights at 8pm. Who knew?

I was too exhausted to participate, as I had paced myself for a one hour intensive workout rather than two, but I could at least sit to the side and observe. And as Yogi Berra said, you can observe a lot just by watching.

I learned more about grappling, striking & blocking in a single hour of observation than in the past three months of karate. That's not to say that karate doesn't include these, it's just that it's not been part of my curriculum yet, so nearly everything I witnessed is novel to me.

Monday evening, I was intrigued and fascinated by this new style; Tuesday morning, however, I was wondering if it was all a mistake. How much time and how many evenings could I possibly spare for more classes? Two classes a week is OK, three is a stretch, but adding more? And where would it end?

Still, Master Tony made a personal invitation and it would be rude to decline such kindness. I went to the Tuesday night class out of respect & appreciation, but with apprehension about commitment. Unfortunately, I had a great time, dammit.

We did more grappling and deflecting work, and I got some excellent coaching on my side kick, my back stance and long stance. It was one of the best hours I've had in the dojo lately. I'm still a novice so I'm easy to impress, but being a novice means there are huge gains to be had for little effort. Taekwondo will become harder for me because it must, eventually.

My thoughts at the moment are to attend the taekwondo session immediately following my Monday karate class. If I'm available, I'll try to squeeze in the occasional Tuesday session as well, but I'm making no significant commitment to that. I'll still continue the Thursday karate class, and will try to squeeze in the Saturday morning kick boxing session, and the karate session which follows. I'm still going to the gym 4-5 times per week for weightlifting. We'll see how long I can sustain this.

This past Monday, my karate class of beginners were tested for possible promotion to the next belt level. There were four yellow belts testing for red, and me testing for yellow.

TL;DR version: I passed.

The testing wasn't at all what I was expecting, but I did manage to pass. Still, if I had known more, I could have been a bit more elegant about it.

I had thought each of us would be tested individually rather than as a group, but there were few enough students and more than enough current black belts present to assist with evaluations, each panelist was assigned a student to observe, then we were as a group lead through the motions:
- face left
- jab & cross jab
- face right & repeat
- face left
- step towards the 'target', then jab & cross jab
- face right & repeat
- face left
- back fist
- face right & repeat...
And so on with rolling back fist, front kick, side kick, round kick & back kick.

In the next block, I knew we would also be walked through the individual kicks: front, side, round, and back kick. But I didn't realized that these would be done stepwise rather than just a simple kick demonstration. For example, a side kick is a four part action: raise knee & pivot foot, extend foot to strike, retract foot, put foot down. I wasn't expecting a full pause between each part, and that requires pretty good balance. Needless to say, my balance wasn't up to it in this relatively novel fashion, even if I could do all of this very well at full speed. Oops. Well, that's something for me to practice.

I knew as well we would be walking through the second kata, "ni ban". I have both ichi and ni down cold so that wasn't offputting to me at all, except that sensei called it by number for the group and we had to remain synchronized. I was running on adrenaline and practiced motion so I had enormous difficulty running slowly enough to match everyone, and making sure I paused at each interval to wait for the next numbered call (1 to 20). I did the kata flawlessly, but my part of the presentation was less than pleasant. If I had performed this on my own, I would have performed vastly better.

Still, what I did was good enough for a pass. If I was the instructor, I would have recommended that I re-test at Thursday's class and consider the Monday event a dress rehearsal. But they let me through on this one, and I have my mental notes (and this entry) to remind myself about what to expect the next time.

There was one last part which was purely ceremonial but the most nerve-racking: breaking a board. While I have kicked solid targets with great force, I've never tried breaking a board. Hell, I've never even held one to determine its weight or strength: I was in uncharted territory, and with the entire class watching. Good times.

Get into position, chose whether I'm going to do a right-hand side kick or a left-hand side kick (I chose RH), deep breath, focus on the target, and strike! And of course, the board broke cleanly as everyone but me knew it would.

Now I know that the wood plank is very dry and lightweight with an obvious grain, a square eight inches on each side. I'm sure I could have split it in two with my bare hands. And of course, Sensei held it with the grain horizontal so that the side of my foot would have maximum effect. I didn't know any of this at the time, but of course, I was the only one in the room who had not done this before so I was the only one concerned.

The board breaking was merely ceremonial, but it was fun and I'm keeping the broken board as a momento, along with my white belt and its two stripes. And now I begin another three month cycle of classes, and a journey towards a red belt.

I was at the gym for arms day this morning. The place was more crowded than usual: I presume people were squeezing in extra workouts before taking the upcoming long weekend off. The side effect of the number of people there was that there seemed to be lines for damn near everything.

I can be exceptionally patient for some things, but my gym workout isn't one of them. I got myself through the core of my workout plan, then blew off the rest and headed to the showers.

While my workout was done, Michael's timed run was still in progress. That happens regularly so I camped out in the lobby with my mobile phone to catch up on Twitter while he finished.

About ten minutes later, an older guy I've seen around the gym some mornings sat in the next chair. We gave our perfunctory good morning greetings and then resumed minding our own business. Until a guy arrived and came up to the front desk.

I wasn't paying attention as to why or how the older gent ambled up to the newly arrived guy, but they began talking. The younger arrival mentioned he was here to see his wife, whom I recognized as the operations manager of the gym. And that's when things started going weird.

The older guy first complimented them both on being a lovely couple. Then he went on to explain how women were created from Adam's rib, that they were made from the best parts of man and therefore man needs a woman to be as complete as God intended. And that it's the man's role to be supportive & protective, and that women are intrinsically nurturing. That men needed a woman's nurturing. That women's nurturing needs to be returned as well, and that if they can't get that from their man, they'll find that nurturing somewhere else. And that explains lesbianism. And that a woman without a man is a lost sheep who needs to be brought back to the flock. And she needs to be guided and protected by her man. Because Jesus.

This is about the time that my stomach started heaving. Honestly, I've only barfed in one gym before and it was on the west coast: I was 30 seconds away from making it a bi-coastal event.

The worst part is that the operations manager was *standing right there* the entire time while her existence and her entire sex were being mansplained to her & her husband by this complete stranger.

I was about to leave before I made a scene of this situation when Michael arrived, giving me a more graceful exit. I looked back at the ops manager as I left, and silently mouthed "I'm sorry!" to her as we headed out the door. She smirked, and returned to the sermon with resignation.

I know the old guy meant well, and he believes absolutely every word he said, because this is the story told to him by every man who conversed with him about it. I have to wonder if he's ever broached this topic with a woman one-on-one who tried to set him straight, that women have lives of their own that don't need males or their protection: has such a conversation never happened to him, not happened firmly enough to make an impression, or it just didn't take because it's a worldview so apparently alien to his thinking that he dismissed her as crazed or demented? Has he never met a successful woman who happened to be single?

The recent series of sexual harassment scandals lately have left me rather sensitized to the issue. It's attitudes similar to his that have set up this ugly dynamic which is now being dragged into the light. I don't think it was my place at that moment to set him straight, but I'd like to think that if I was in fact part of the conversation, I'd have some things to say about his fractured logic.

Last Thursday, I was awarded my second strip on my white belt. Yay!

I was also informed I'm eligible to test for graduation to a yellow belt the week of Nov 27-Dec 1. There's a clause in the graduation form which requires the approval of parents, noting that their would-be grad has had steady academic achievement and good overall behavior. I suspect I would not get my parents' approval unless I promised to fly home for xmas. Good thing I'm not asking them. :-)

The graduation registration form is also the evaluation form, so I can see grades of "wait," "good," and "excellent" for the following criteria:

• Count kicks
  
• Basics
  
• Form
  
• Self Defense
  
• Sparring
  
• Breaking

I like the lack of a "fail" state: one simply keeps trying until one passes. Personally, I'd also add a "not applicable" criteria so that some criteria may be left off for levels where that may not apply (eg. beginners at white belt where basics & form are vastly more important than sparring & breaking).

At this point, I'm feeling pretty confident in all categories. The bar is set pretty low for us mere white belts anyway, and I've worked pretty hard on getting my fundamentals (kihon) in place. And generally not embarrassing myself or my family name.

In other news, I skipped the gym this past Saturday morning for an extra karate session. I had done a heavy chest workout the prior morning so a rest day was in order, and I had never previously attended the Saturday any-level adult session at 8:50am.

Arriving early to warm up, I saw the end of the kickboxing class which had started at 8. And it looks incredibly fun. The next time I have a Saturday free, I'm going to try both sessions.

I'm currently standing in the data center cage (the old, large cage), waiting for the signal to do some disk swaps. Until that happens, I'm just going to write here...

The past week has been a minor but welcome disruption to our boring lives. I returned from a very fun trip to Toronto last Tuesday, the kids moved home on Friday, and we had a house guest visit from Cleveland Friday. But as of yesterday, our guest flew home and we are now just a household of three rather than a mob of 6-7. I miss the fun, but it's nice to have some quiet time too.

My gym workout yesterday morning was unhelpfully disrupted by my inability to get a bench press station. The bench press is the core of my chest workout and needs to be done early in my visit, or I simply won't have the energy to do it effectively & safely. There are four stations but three were in active use with people lined up to swap in & out. The fourth station was occupied by someone who was using it as a bench while coaching another person who was doing calisthenics adjacent: yup, neither actually using the bench press for what it was meant to do. And despite requests to use a different area of the gym by different people, they both steadfastly refused. Damn ignorant of them, the bastards.

Anyway, I skipped the bench press and did extra sets of the rest of my workout to make up for it. it was an odd feeling though to head to the showers without benching anything, like I left something major undone.

The evening karate was as brutal as ever. The warm-up stretches hurt in a good way, and while I'm getting more flexible, I'm a long way from matching what most others in the group can do. And the cardio left me heaving & sweating in a how-am-I-not-dead-yet kind of way, as expected. Per usual, we spent a lot of time on kicks, but this was the first time in a while we had reviewed axe kicks. And I suck at them.

Or rather, I think I suck at them. It's kinda hard to tell.

The idea is that one would raise a straight leg alongside the target as high as comfortable (for me, about chin height), then strike downwards on the target with the heel of your foot with great force. I'm getting the energy distribution all wrong: it takes some energy for me to kick up to chin level, and I'm clearly hesitant to drop my heel down quickly as there is no physical target to hit during practice and do not want to plow my foot into the floor. I also think that my balance isn't right yet to be able to put the full energy required into the down stroke.

I plan to practice more, perhaps using a heavily padded chair as a target until I get more comfortable with the stance, balance, flow & energy, all hopefully without hurting myself.

I identify with raccoons. They have great manual dexterity, they are incredibly adaptible, they're primarily nocturnal, and, when they're not raiding your garden late at night, they're pretty cute. And like me, they sometimes eat a lot of garbage.

Visiting Toronto is my opportunity to indulge in the nostalgic favourites of my childhood or young adulthood. Not all of them would be considered healthy habits. Well, practically none of them. But they taste sooooo good!

Me: *standing on the sidewalk, woofing down a slice of meat supreme pizza from Pizza Pizza*
Friend: You know that's trash pizza, right?
Me: Yes, but it's the trash pizza I used to eat at 2am during my walk of shame home from the bars in my twenties. Don't take that away from me.

In other guilty pleasures, I had a double burger from Harvey's, a small burger from A&W, the Thanksgiving special from Swiss Chalet, and any number of not-found-in-the-US chocolate bars. There was also a visit to the Bulk Barn which would bring shame to my ancestors as well as my Visa. Best not to talk about that.

I don't know that I've gained any weight from this shameful extravaganza --mostly because I've avoided stepping on a scale-- but there is much atonement at the gym in my near future, and possibly for the rest of my life. If there's any consolation to be found, it's that I had a clean bill of health recently before leaving the US so it's unlikely that this binge will kill my body. My soul might be is another matter, but hen again, it's been safely kept in storage for many decades so it should be mostly OK.

And now I'm hungry.

I'm just back from tonight's karate class. I ache. Horribly. So much stretching, so much pain. At least the walk home give me time to cool off and stretch. Still, ow.

It is tremendous fun though. And I have vastly more flexibility than I did when I started over a month ago. And I've lost 10 lbs in that same time.

Now to seek water. And food. And perhaps Aleve. Then sleep.

After much anticipation, Edwin Michael Howerton entered the world this morning.

He made it to 36 weeks, a little shy of the usual 40 weeks gestation, but not too early. As I type this, Edwin is in the neonatal intensive care unit, resting in an incubator to offer enriched oxygen and extra warmth to help him a long. Mom is recovering nicely and is, I'm sure, relieved that all has turned out well so far.

We expect mom & Edwin to be home before the middle of next week, once we're sure Edwin is fine without the extra environmental support. In the interim, with dad staying close to the hospital with mom & new baby, we're pretty much the full-time parents for Elodie. She & mom have been living with us for the past month anyway so they would never be unattended through the preeclampsia & gestational diabetes so this isn't a huge change, but Elodie does miss her parents and I think is a little confused by the changes.

When baby & mom are released from the hospital, they will continue living with us, albeit with a shuffle in sleeping arrangements so that mom & baby are together. We'll keep Elodie in her same bed & bedroom as we thought this continuity will help her adjust to the new family arrangement, but either Michael or I will be sleeping in that same room with her rather than mom.

Because of the c-section, mom will need about a week of bed rest and an additional five weeks of limited motion, especially limiting her use of stairs. This is all known to us: we did the same arrangement in 2015 when Elodie was born. This also gives us some time to finish renovations & updates to their new house near us: painting of the interior is still in progress. By the time mom & kids move back home, their new house will be ready for them all.

OMG, I hurt. Like, I'm going to swallow an entire bottle of Alleve with a vodka chaser kind of hurt. But it was fun!

I had my second karate class tonight. As before, it began with a lot of stretching to warm up. And then it really got into leg stretching, the kind I haven't been able to do in 45 years or so. My upper body is very flexible, but the kind of lifts & extensions required of my lower half far exceeds my current abilities. But damn it, I'm going to try!

We also did some non-contact sparring, a lot of punches, a front kick, a side kick and an arching back kick. Extensively. This part wasn't painful except to my ego: my balance isn't great and I need more careful deliberate practice to get the precise form internalized.

There were some nice compliments about how I was keeping up, and some surprise it was only my second class. I'm sure they're being kind, but in some ways I am doing better than others. My weightlifting has trained me to ensure I have a very solid footing and maintain a low center of gravity. My upper body strength can generate a damn wicked punch. Lifting and cardio have given me good endurance.

All that said, my ass was solidly kicked (metaphorically) tonight. I was sweating profusely, overheating and nearly gasping for oxygen by the end. Of course, that's what a good workout is suppose to do, so victory is mine!

My self-assigned homework is to keep stretching so I can lift my knees higher, aim my side & rear kicks higher and bend my upper body lower. I will also need to rehearse each of the kicks we covered to improve my form.

OCD superpowers, activate!

I noticed recently that I've stopped listening to most of the podcasts I was downloading. Part of this is simply lacking the time: life with a baby and other family activities has dramatically reduced my spare time. I suspect however the largest part is because I don't want to listen any longer: it's so depressing.

Most of the podcasts I was following were related to general news, economics and politics. All of them are now 100% Trump: how his administration is screwing up today, how his economic plans are non-existant (or how he intends to interfere with functioning institutions which are running just fine thankyouverymuch), how he's damaging international relations with allies, and generally how his grand plans are languishing due to his own incompetence. In short, wall-to-wall depression.

I miss the little extras, the general stories, the breakthroughs, the day-to-day minutiae of life. All of these are drowned out by coverage of the buffoon, and even when Trump coverage is slight, the taint is overwhelming. A drop of sewage plus 1,000 gallons of drinking water makes 1,000 gallons of sewage.

As I write this, we have 1,189 days left to the next presidential election. There is a piece of used dental floss in the garbage pail behind me which would do a better job, so next time I'm going to vote for the "Used Dental Floss" ticket, although I hope for better candidates when the time comes.