Not to count my chickens (on the subway or otherwise, Geof), but as of now I am a "yellow belt" in Krav Maga. Yellow belt in quotes because, really, it's just a naming convention — Krav doesn't have belts, there's no special ceremony, really just a certificate and the ability to take classes involving more intensive techniques.
I'd like to say that the test was the most grueling experience I'd ever put myself through ... and that's probably the truth. Three hours of more-or-less continuous movement, including the hour-long warm-up and two hours of actual technique testing. It's like a marathon ... a marathon of slamming various body parts into a hard vinyl pad. Or having your partner's limbs slam into you.
What I'm most impressed with is not that I knew the material so well — can't help that when you've been attending the classes regularly for 8 months. It's that I actually was still upright at the end of it all, and ready for some more. I guess adrenaline really does work. (It also really works to dull pain: I barely felt the clip to my jaw my partner gave me accidentally during a chokehold. Though I did feel it in my femur every time she round-house kicked into it, through the pad.)
Right now, however, I really feel like I had a bad drinking binge last night, completely with a mild auto accident. Ow.
And now I get the opportunity to take more classes, ones that will actually involve the purchase of protective gear (shin guards at the least are required, apparently ... my poor legs). All to train up for the next level test, the "orange belt", which is apparently longer and more grueling than this one was.
Yay?
1 comment:
Congrats, Sarah, and you're almost growing up now. And trust me, the pads -- you'll be happy for them. It means you can punch as hard as you want to now.
Just not in the money-maker.
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