Whereas white belt is representative of being new to TKD and innocent, yellow belt is representative of being corrupted. I'm joking! It's supposed to symbolise the earth in which a plant sprouts and takes root. Apparently that plant grows into a Taekwon Do tree, and is anyone getting an image of the whomping willow from Harry Potter? No? Just me?

I learnt the steps for my new pattern last night. It's called Dan-Gun which both Jo and Min (who both speak Korean) assure me means carrot. Or it's the name of the legendary founder of Korea in the year 2333 BC. Whatever. Either way it's very pretty, and it has some fun blocks that I've never done before.

Tonight I'm going to the new gym for the first time... I expect to spend roughly an hour hanging shyly at the back of a group class, being thoroughly intimidated. Wish me luck. Things I forgot: My favorite pair of gym pants, my membership card, my drink bottle, my good pair of running shoes, a clean pair of socks, shower stuff.

If I ever manage to leave the house in the morning with everything I need for the day I'll be sure to let you know.

Also: this morning, as I was leaving, season 3 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer arrived (don't laugh at me I know I'm a dork.) You have no idea how difficult it was for me to leave the house. I was so very tempted to call in sick and spend the day napping, writing my reserach essay, and bingeing on buffy.

Friday night we moved into our rooms, and had a training session and a power cut. I really lucked out on my room assignment - I got one of the only rooms without kids in it. We didn't have a working heater, but I wouldn't have traded it for the world. It was my retreat every time the screaming and the boundless energy of the younger campers got to me.

Fridays training started with trust exercises- most of which I was fairly uncomfortable with. Why couldn't trust exercises involve less carrying of me by people half my size? I don't mind doing the carrying... I trust that I'm not going to drop them, and they trust that I'm not going to too. See? Trust.

Anyway, the rest of the session went well, we split up into our belt groups and ran through grading stuff. Halfway through there was a black out, and being the big badass people we are, we just carried on training (although being a little more careful not to kill the person in front of us.)

On Saturday we were all up bright an early (thanks to the younger members internal alarm clocks...) Grading was held in the morning, and then we had three afternoon sessions.

Grading was huge, I really didn't expect to see so many people there. White belts and yellow strips easily made up half the number of people there. Grading was a bit scary, but I think I did OK. Also Dad and Lisa come to watch which was nice. There were a few mistakes, hopefully nothing too awful, I believe I find out the results tonight. After us lower ranks were out of the way stuff began to get interesting, as the higher ranks carried on.

The afternoon sessions were pretty amazing. We did a training session Where we were taken through a whole bunch of leg and kicking drills. By the time we were done I was in pain, so that's pretty much my definition of a good workout - even considering how very poorly I did! We also had a session on sparring drills which was interesting, I learnt quite a bit about sparring - mostly I learnt that I'm not quick enough to step around a side kick...

Sunday morning we were all up at 6.30 for a run. Because it had been raining pretty much the whole weekend the ground was wet and unpleasant, and I was tired and unpleasant, and yesterdays leg excercises had made my butt and calves pretty unpleasant. I was in for a really nice surprise when we only had a five minute run, just enough to loosen up all the muscles, before doing a quick workout in a field full of sheep shit.

Sunday was solid training, and lots of hard work. Over the weekend I've found roughly 20 things that I need to work on immediately, and that number is only small because after a certain point you stop counting, and start hoping that you're going to be able to finish the set of excercises you're working on.

On arriving home I found a multitude of bruises that I cannot explain. Like the spectacular one over the last two knuckles of my right hand. What did I do to bruise those so badly? I'd better not have punched anything with them because I know better than that.

Despite the crazy bruises, the screaming kids, and the pain I'm experiancing today, I found this weekend really worthwhile. I've come away wth a lot ot work on, and a perspective of how far Taekwon Do can actually go, and how much you can get out of it.  

There are some very fit, very highly trained, and very scary people out there. And most of them snore.

And by all the stress I am of course talking about uni. Couldn't they just invent a way of zapping you full of information? Rather than the never ending cycle of lecture, essay, cram, test, lecture?

Speaking of tests though, I had my New Zealand and the World (International relations) test yesterday, and I think I did ok. It helps that I'm genuinely interested in the material.

My essay is going well. I'm nearly done. I estimate that I'll only need another can of energy drink and three hours to have something reasonably polished and worthy of at least  a B-. However if I thought standing in front of my lecturer and crying would get me out of having to write the damn thing in the first place then I would have totally done that three weeks ago. Forget pride, there is no such thing as pride when you're talking about the theory behind public sector reforms.

Taekwon Do camp begins tonight. I had to come to work on the bus this morning with a giant overnight bag, and a pillow and a sleeping bag. Luckily I brought my over-stuffed backpack into town yesterday.

Essentially, for me,  those three bags should just maybe  be enough for three days, and two nights.

I am pretty bad at packing generally. This time I've managed to be both over packed and underpacked. It's three nights out at a camp, so it's bound to be freezing, and I'm bound to want an duvet, an electric blanket, and an extra woolen jersy, BUT it's a camp all about running around and being sweaty, and I've only got two TKD regulation doboks, and a limited number of sweaty clothes changes.

So there you go. I have too much stuff, and not enough stuff.

Also? I may or may not have a lift. I totally forgot to get my lifts phone number, so I ended up having to send an email today and hoping I'd picked the right Jo out of a very long list of people. I'm now hoping that I've picked the right Jo, and she's planning on checking her email today!

Alright. Essay time. I'm going to whip this bad boy into shape! Right after a nap and a cup of tea.

Desde la semana pasada contámos con un nuevo gimnasio para la práctica del TAEKWON-DO "el arte de la defensa personal". El mismo está bajo la dirección del Master Abelardo R. Benzaquén (7º dan I.T.F.) y cuenta con la instructora Maria Noelia Castilla (4º dan I.T.F.), especialista en Taekwon-do infantil, que pertenecen al Centro Chaqueño de Taekwon-do y son representantes del Maestro Javier Dacak.

Las prácticas para juveniles y adultos de ambos sexos se realizan Lunes, Miercoles y Viernes de 20,30 a 22,00 hs. mientras que infantiles entrenan martes y jueves de 18,15 a 19,30 hs.

Más información por correo electrónico a aitbenzaquen@hotmail.com o a los teléfonos celulares (03722) 1568 2496 / 1536 8760

I think it's because I'm naturally a bit scatty, and so when I'm running around in between work, and Uni, and the gym, and TKD, I sometimes forget to listen to what my body is saying. 

My body is quite expressive when it comes to needing water. I get headaches, ranging from the minor, to the massive. I get cranky, and snappy. I crave unusual things - like water! My balance, and my ability to focus goes to shit. In an extreme case, when I'm working out, I get light headed, then my vision gets spotty, and then, as I learnt today, I throw up, and/or get fainty.

Today I had all of these symptoms, but at no point did I think, huh... I'd probably better get a glass of water, or have one of those herbal teas that I've been raving about. 

After work and an afternoon full of uni classes I jumped on a bus and gapped it to farmers for a short round of speed shopping, then I caught another bus to my Taekwon Do class. 

We did lots of running around, and sit ups, and push ups, and repetitions of movements up and down the hall. I was fine right up until I wasn't, and all of a sudden I recognized all of the symptoms that I'd put out of my mind earlier in the day.

It was a bit of an issue because I was spinning to do a backwards kick at the time, and I very nearly spun myself right into the ground. 

I took a 'water' break, and ran my wrists under cold water while chugging water for ten minutes in an effort not the faint. 

Then I excused myself early and bussed it home. The bus doesn't go right to my door, and there is a small hill to climb to our driveway. I think that hill was the last straw for me. I managed to get inside before I proceeded to throw up everything I'd eaten since lunch time - which, actually turned out to be nothing, because, well, hello! Dork!

I swear I'm only going to have to go to TKD on an empty stomach, dehydrated a few more times to learn the lesson. 

Dear Shannon

IDIOT. How many times are we going to have to have this same fight before you learn that an empty water bottle is not the same as a full water bottle and an afternoon snack? I'm hoping this was the last time, because next time I'm totally going to faint in a public place, and every one is going to laugh.

Also: no more blocking kicks with your shins. It hurts like a motherf**ker, and black, blue, and green are so not my colours. 

Love,

Your Body

I'm a martial artist. I've been training in TaeKwon Do since I was 12, in 1991, March 17. Or 1990...I can never remember. I'm thinking 90 because I have a picture dated 91 and it was my first tournament; I was a blue belt then. At this point, I've been training more than half of my life. Almost as long as I've been writing. Certainly longer than I've been tinkering with computers, brains, psychology and theater. one would think that I'd have a basic understanding of what to do in a given situation.

I'm a Fourth Degree black belt. My instructor says, you don't really know anything until you have a V on your belt. I have an IV, meaning, yes, I should know something. He has a rule that even in no contact sparring, IV and above can touch their opponents, under the assumption that if they have a V, they have some form of control.

Tonight I came close to killing someone. I don't think it was that serious, but if I hadn't literally fallen out of the the technique and continued through it, I would have taken his throat out... As it is, his voice is much quieter, raspy and he has difficulty swallowing.

Tuesday, same move, I hit my opponent in the face. I stopped it, but milliseconds after I felt contact. Too late. Both of them, I knew exactly where I hit. I felt the adam's apple tonight, and his nose on Tuesday.

These exchanges, today especially, I realized that I can kill someone. I can defend myself against some of the biggest guys. And the smallest. My opponent tonight is not foreign to fighting. He fights like a boxer and a wrestler. He's only a blue belt in TKD, but he's been training for years, now. He's big, 6'2" at least, maybe up to 6'5". I hit him in the face with a downward kick, and didn't strain anything on the way up. When he took me to the floor in one exchange, he followed in and was on top of me. By the end of the exchange, I kneed him in the ribs to "shock" him, struck him in the face (not gently either), and then got my feet into his chest and pushed him off. All in rapid sequence.

A few minutes earlier, my instructor took me down similarly. I somehow got my leg wrapped around his head and did a close range hook kick to his temple.

Because of the adrenaline, I didn't notice that my jaw was incredibly sore (to the point that i couldn't close it for the first hour after class), and I had a noticeable limp from a block that bruised the big guys arm.

Needless to say, the 10 ounce cat is doing its best to get tossed around the room right now. (I just put him in his room because he keeps attacking my foot, despite my best attempts to distract him with his toys).

So what did I learn tonight?

A few years ago, around the time i got my II Dan (around 1999 or so), one of my seniors asked me this question. It's come up several times over the past few years.

If it came down to it, could you stop yourself from killing someone?

Tonight I realized I could kill someone. Yeah, I have a pretty damned good turning kick that could break 5 boards without much training. My max with a side kick has been 7, the same as another 250# bruiser, and the guy that posed the question. My III Dan testing, I broke four ceramic tiles with a backhand strike. Tonight, I almost took out a guys throat.

That was nothing. I wasn't trying, It was a move I've been trained to throw on instinct. Opponent throws something, usually a low kick, block, turning to the belt followed by a high reverse kick to the head. Right, left. Bam-Bam. Automatic. Both devastating kicks, the first one used to drop their guard, they know how hard and fast the kicks come in. Can i stop myself from killing someone? What happens when I mean to take their head off with that move? What happens when he's on top of me, ready to kill me? Can I stop myself before the final blow?

Adrenaline has been pumping a lot lately. I was so flustered, frustrated and angry with myself, disappointed that I totally fucked up my patterns. Not only did I fuck up the patterns, but when ChunBi was called, I relaxed. Hearing a different command. I was out of it. I wasn't able to focus. Had I been in a tournament, I would have shot myself in the foot.

Yeah, it wasn't a tournament. It was class. The guy I hurt on Tuesday wasn't here. It could be because of something else, lamas class with his wife, for example. But he was complaining that his hand hurt from blocking one of the kicks (okay, so he learned, hopefully, not to block with his fingers).

But I'm a IV Dan, I should know better. Yeah, I can defend myself. I've had to use my training once, to block a punch from some drunk ass slob. It was easy. I have never had to toss some huge guy across the room, even though I know I can. What's the point?

TaeKwon Do is a training of life. How do I go into class next week, knowing that I don't have control, and using that as a teaching tool? I came from a school of hard knocks. We had Kill-Dozer, a 260# tank, VI Dan that would literally run you over. If you were lucky enough to get a shot in, you would pay for it ten fold. It was like a fly attacking an elephant...the fly always loses. We had DC, the guy that posed the question earlier. Every time I fought him, I ended up with several bruises, arms, legs, and torso. Then there were the guys with finesse that could take your head off without flinching, and sometimes I ended up with bruises from them, too. Almost every class as a color belt, I had the wind knocked out of me. Every class, I left with bruises, or some ache or pain. This was before Tiger Balm and Hot tubs.

Now is the time where I learn to be an expert...that I'm already supposed to be. Touch and go. Leave the opponent knowing that if the punch went a little further, their head would be on the other side of the room. Fight less like a spaz and more like a professional. Let instinct take over, but also control instinct so that when the time comes, I won't need to fall away after I've made contact, but place the technique where I want and touch.

Placement. That's the challenge of IV degree. My instructor is training me to prepare for my V. I don't want it. I want to compete... I wanted to know that I could kill someone. I wanted to compete in one last tournament, testing my abilities against another expert to tell myself, I'm really good enough. And this is all related to what's going on everywhere else.

Isn't it amazing how things work out that way. Now, lets see if the cat is ready to play...and not attack.

The rain is also running down the pavement outside of uni, turning it into a raging river that pools into my shoes and creeps up my pant legs. This is why I need to hem my pants. If they weren't 3 inches too long for me they wouldn't be dragging along the ground, and my knees wouldn't be wet.

The sign up form for regional Taekwon Do camp was posted online today. It's semi official; there will be running. The equipment list: dobok(s), belt, RUNNING PANTS, sleeping bag, pillow, toiletries, cookies.

Let me start with saying: Cookies are not going to make up for the running thing. Bitter hot chocolate, with chili flakes, and whipped cream would not make up for running.

On the list of questions in the form there is one about medical conditions and allergies and stuff. I have (so far) resisted the urge to write a short paragraph about my crippling allergy to running.

I think that making up a medical condition to get out of physical activity would be very high school PE class.

I did wonder if perhaps I should start a mini running program. Just so that on the day of the running I wouldn't collapse into a sweaty puddle threatening to throw up/ call my lawyer/ pass out. In other words, so that I wouldn't completely embarrass myself by crying.

I'd just fit the running in around full time work, and uni, and TKD, and the gym, and study. Naturally it would have to be either late night or very early morning running. Except I don't actually really do mornings. So late night running. Alone. In Miramar. Yeah that seems like a really smart idea.

The other alternative is running at the gym. On the treadmills which you now have to BOOK for 'peak' times between 5 and 7ish - so all of the times I'm at the gym and in the mood to run. (Although in the mood to run is kind of an oxymoron for me. There is no running mood.)

Unfortunately the having to book a treadmill thing was the last straw. I will be leaving my gym just as soon as I find a suitable replacement.

I'm thinking Les Mills.

So anyway. Back to that whole running thing:

Shannon At Camp While Running (sort of):

Shannon: (on the ground, crying, sweating, and thinking very hard about throwing up)
Mhaphmack.

Fit camper: Dude. I thought you were fit.

Shannon: (gasp gasp, pant pant) 
I am. Just you know. Not running fit. I'm squat and lunges fit - I can do like 30. in a row. And I'm free weights fit - I can do a whole class with 3 kg weights. And I'm walking fit. I could walk for miles! Not up hills or anything though.

Fit camper: I don't think you can claim to be fit if you can walk, but not up hills. And weights are more of a strength thing...

Shannon: (wheeze, cough)
Whatever. I pay good money to my gym! I am fit.

Fit camper: Right. So why are you crying about running? I mean we're still in sight of the start point.

Shannon: (Goes into cardiac arrest.) (And dies)

There you have it people. Running Kills.

You heard me.

• I might be going for drinks tonight with Karlie and Leslea. Or I might be going to the gym to work out all alone. Considering how much I enjoy working out on my own (I don't) I'm leaning a lot towards the drinks.

• This morning, while on the bus, I saw a man stumble out of Mermaids (Wellingtons premier men's entertainment club.) He grinned blearily at my bus and waved before stumbling down Courtney place. He looked very pleased with himself.

• The other day I had to buy a text book for my POLS course. I hate it when the lecturers prescribe books that they, or the course administrator, have written. And I hate it even more when the text is so very obviously overpriced. $50 for a badly written dry-as-toast book.

• Because I was angry about the book and the spending of hard earned money I went on TradeMe and bid on the equivalent amount of trashy romance novels, and winter clothing. I am a very bad influence on myself.

• Taekwon-Do camp is coming up on the 15th-17th (I think) of August. It's near Lower Hutt somewhere, and Dad, if you're reading this, family is allowed to come watch the grading, which I'm fairly sure is on Saturday (16th) morning.

• Last night at TKD they made that same joke about the 6am run and swim in a freezing cold river. I think they might actually be serious.

• I hate running.

• It's winter here in New Zealand. Winter is cold. 6am in the morning is cold. Rivers are very cold.

• I hate being cold.

• Seriously, I don't like the cold. I have an electric blanket, two duvets, two blankets, a throw rug, a hot water bottle and many many pairs of flannelette PJ's. Last night I used them all. Except the electric blanket - I'm scared it's too old to be safe anymore, and I'll wake up on fire.

• In that same week of the TKD camp I have a briefing paper (worth15%), a class test (worth25%) and a 2000 word essay (worth 25%) due. I'm thinking I'd better start writing now.

• Also: I'd better start practicing and learning my theory for TKD because my mini-grading is in roughly two weeks. (there will be no grading without first passing the mini-grading.)

• Whoops. I agreed to go out for a drink with the girls before considering the fact that I am so not dressed for it. I am wearing trainers, jeans, a woolly casual Friday jumper, and a very baggy thermal top that I stole off my Mum last weekend. Crap. I need to go shopping.

• I also need to go food shopping. I am down to a packet of pasta, three different types of rice, a jar of pesto, and a jar of garlic aioli. I've had pesto and pasta for three nights in a row. It would have been four, but thankfully Louise took pity on me last night and gave me some of her chicken and vegetable pie.

• Who says I'm not domesticated huh? THREE types of rice. Domestic goddesses probably only ever have two at a time. And one of my bags is wholegrain brown rice. That's very healthy.

• Usually I have brown wholegrain pasta too. Last time I couldn't find any on the supermarket shelf, so I gave up. Also: It takes five times as long as normal pasta and rice to cook because it's so much denser. Sometimes I'm just not that patient.

• Ok. I'm never that patient. I eat crunchy pasta and rice 99.9% of the time.

Hm. So that was less of a list and more of a stream of consciousness in list form.

Anyway: Homework.

I've just started back at uni, and there seems to be an excess of it. You know me though: I like to share the fun around, so today you have homework: I'd like you to list three things you'll be doing today. If you don't have three things, make some up. 

Shannon needs some procrastination material...

Luckily bruises on my hands don't usually linger too long - as opposed to the ones on my legs that hang around for weeks. 

My marks for last semester came back: I got a B for International Relations, and a B+ for my European politics paper. Monday was my first day back at uni, and I think the papers I'm doing this time are alright. 

They seem a little easier than what I've done before - they'll be covering a lot of old ground, but I choose to look at that as a good thing. I think my average is sitting at about a high B, I'd like to get it up to a B+ at least this semester. 

Finally: This morning I read something on the Internet about bacon. This afternoon my brain went: Bacon. Bacon. I need to do some filing. Bacon. I should probably do a quick milk run. Bacon. Bacon. Phone call. Bacon. Baaaaaccccooooon!

I have bacon on the brain.

I scowled and frowned a lot, although I really didn't mean to. When I realised that I was scowling and frowning at my instructor and all the people in my group I tried for a smile. It felt a bit like I was baring my teeth, so I stopped.

Towards the end of the class we were surprised by having to jump up in front of all the others to demonstrate our three step sparring. Or something. We weren't quite sure what we were attempting to demonstrate so it was a bit of a massive disaster.

I would start forward, and forget to yell in the right spots. Then I'd realise that no one else was moving. So I'd stop. Then the dude at the front would say keep going. One of the other guys in my group started again. And so I would start again, only more nervous, and forgetting to yell at all, or finish.

Meanwhile the rest of the group were still standing still. In the end I just sort of trailed off. It clearly wasn't the right time to be asking for clarification, so I didn't.

Also a disaster: While on the mats I managed to pop my second toe out of its joint. It's something that happens fairly often with me (usually when I'm swimming) as a result of been stood on by one too many horses back in the day when there were horses. It doesn't hurt, but it's intensely uncomfortable.

I can usually pop it back in by flexing my foot in the right direction, and so I gave that a try. While up in front of the class. Demonstrating something that clearly I was getting wrong.

So imagine me running back and forwards on the mats, clearly confused as fuck, stopping to jiggle about flexing my foot every two steps.

Disaster.

I couldn't have looked any more like a dork if I had tried to.

Later on while we watched the other belts do their thing in front of the class we figured out that we were supposed to be simulating a grading. Whoops.

Then I had to take a picture for the clubs website. I didn't see the picture but I get a feeling that I don't look amazing in it. I was scowling right up until the camera was pointed at me.

Later on that evening - despite the odds - I managed to look more like a dork. I popped my toe out of alignment while in the shower, and then nearly brained myself on the side of the tub trying to get it back in place.

The lesson?
There is no lesson really, but if I had to pick one I'd go with 'eat something before working out'

Or if I was channeling my Nana Pointon: 'don't scowl like that in case the wind changes. You'll be stuck like that forever, and then how would you feel.'

Today, the best person on the floor was in his late 40's or early 50's, 5'4" tops, probably 120# and no one gave him a second glance. He was by far the best that I've seen him, and I've known this guy for most of my career. Yeah, he's a small guy, but with a huge heart.

It was a small testing, 6 people. I was noting to some of the people that it was shocking having such a diverse range of ranks testing, and it being half over after less than an hour (probably closer to 45 minutes). During the intermission, after the head honchos walked out of the room, I was overcome by a burst of laughter.

"Why are you laughing, sir?" I couldn't answer his question, however, as I am reluctant to here. See, Ego is a funny thing. Watching people trip over their shoes trying to impress other people. This past year, I've been doing just that. Jumping through hoops, kissing ass, and working so damned hard at trying to impress people with abilities that I don't have. What could I have done differently?

That's the question, isn't it? The other day I was working out with a friend, and I asked myself out loud, "Who am I trying to impress?" It doesn't matter what I'm doing, lifting weights, riding a bike, doing a 360 reverse turning kick, or rolling on the floor. I'm always trying to impress someone. Yet, in doing it, I end up only hurting myself and creating (sorry, getting pissed off at the work mac because the hot keys I'm used to aren't working!!!) MUCH more work than I need. Who am I trying to impress?

That reminds me of a question I asked myself a couple months ago: What is my fear of success? The two questions are related, in some way. Success and impressions. You see, if I were to be successful, I wouldn't have to impress people anymore, right? I could just end there...I'm a success, and that's it. You see, I'm a pretty damned accomplished person. I'm well known internationally, and have made (I really fucking hate macs!! Unfortunately, I'm stuck on this POS for a few hours until I can kick the internet back on...the boss changed the employee password for the network and no one knows it but him)

Back to my accomplishments: So I know a lot of people through TKD. Internationally, nationally, and merely by association. I say a few names, and bam... instant friends. Not only that, I'm also a pretty good martial artist.... or so I've been told. I'm not trying to sound arrogant, but I've done a lot in regard to TKD, and I'm still growing. That's the key point. Martial arts are constantly evolving, at least as the individual is concerned. Once someone thinks they are the shit, that's it. That's why I believe Bruce Lee, jet Li and Jackie Chan (as well as all of the other big people) would NEVER fight each other to see who's best. It's a joke. I'm good. I'm not the best, and I can learn from everyone, even the 6 year old white belt that just walked in the door.

I also have a lot of schooling, and I'm smart. Although I suck at budgeting, I'm great with numbers and love math. I find science interesting, but too rigid for my blood. I love psychology, history, and philosophy because everyone is a master and it's always evolving.

That's what I was laughing at earlier. Scientists are elitists. Unfortunately, some people in our federation are turning into elitists. Watching some of my seniors, it was like watching a bunch of starving dogs barking over a dry bone. Unfortunately, what they fail to realize (and this was the point of the book i just finished) is that the "dry bone" has plenty of meat, but we just believe (erroneously) that the bone is dry. The hungry ghost realm (look it up).

God, I should start writing a book. Not that it'd be any good, but I have a ton of friggin ideas, and I've not been writing enough. Either that or having written over 500 pages over the past two years of personal experience, reflection, assessment, etc, I've opened something in me.

Until next time.

Where did I end? Oh, I know, somewhere about fedora. I don't want to write more about linux so, let's change the topic.

In may i made my decision. I'm going to study English , at institute of English Philology at Nicolaus Copernicus University, if I pass of course. I know, that my english still sucks, but I still have 2 years till exams . I've watched my sister last 3 months, when she gave up on chemisty at UMK. She simply couldn't make it, becouse of too much study. She's failed her exams@labolatories. She want to study administration from next years, but she receive A from math, and B+ from phycics. I recommended her to study math or some IT studies, but she didn't listen to me. That's her choice. I know that I won't pass my maths exam as good as i want so I have to give up my plans on stady math, physic or IT. However, i don't think that english is bad choice. I always want to be a teacher, just like my mom. I want to go to Japan in 2014 with my friend Patric, and there teach english in some good high school. Maybe someday I will be able to study IT, and open my own buisness, and make websites.  I don't know if we can make it yet, but I have a faith. As someone sais : "we will see".

I want to do some exercises during my summer, so I think I can return to do taekwondo in september. I ended my adventure with tkd on yellow belt. I hope to pass exams for the green one in next year.

Ostróda Reggae Festival logo

I wonder if I will have enough money to go to Ostróda for Ostróda Reggae Festival with my friends in the end of the august. I'm going to buy tickets for ostroda and some new speakers, like creative 5.1, but dunno if I will afford for both.

So, this is it. My summer brake started a few days ago. I have some plans, some books to read, some project to do, and some stuffs to learn. I hope it will be a good summer to everyone. : ).

Basically, my desire to train has become less and less intense. I love the art, I love patterns, I love sparring, and I really love breaking, especially when it's about technique and not about power and strength (however, it's really awesome that I've broken more wood at my competition weight of 165 than one of my bruiser friends at his competition weight, which ranges from 230+ (I broke 7 boards with a side kick and his max was 6 for a while...and that was with a lead leg kick, not a modified version, what he was doing)!

I'm slowly regaining my passion with my new instructor, who integrates many different forms of martial arts, philosophy, science, and study. He also appreciates the diversity that this art and other arts offer each other, and knows the value of various different schools of training. He once talked about going to a seminar that was about nothing but the basics, taught by someone that teaches the same material each time. He said that every time he learns something new at those seminars and usually leaves very satisfied.

Anyway, over my retreat, my homework was to continue to practice. I didn't find much time to practice between the reading, hiking and sitting that I was doing, but I did practice some. More of what I did with TKD was examine the patterns. I looked for various patterns and ways to remember the 1009 moves and sequences of the 25 different patterns (of which I know 22). in my research I found some interesting, if not disorienting things.

One of the ways I go through patterns is by counting the moves. Each pattern has a designated number of moves and a diagram that must be followed. Granted, they aren't perfect, but they are pretty damned close. One of the things I love about patterns is that the goal is to perfect the imperfectable. I realized that that was more true than I realized.

Out of those 25 patterns, 7 do not count all of the moves. They vary in range from one additional move up to 8 moves that aren't counted. Most have one or two moves that "slip" in an additional step or so. I believed that there was some pattern to this as well, but even that proved to be false. (maybe in another post I'll go through the various sequences and show how they are different and how they are similar).

Also, something that confused me as a II Dan (degree) was that up until this point, the diagrams made sense. Most of them were symmetrical top and bottom, and therefore didn't matter which way you looked at them. There were 3 patterns that were not symmetrical but they fit, the direction you were facing was the direction that the diagram went in. However, at II Dan, three of the four (including a pattern that is no longer considered an official ITF pattern) patterns are not symmetrical, and all three of them are flipped. The direction you start and finish is not the direction that the pattern diagram is described. Confusing...to say the least. And there's no explanation to this phenomenon. The remaining patterns that follow are all symmetrical and therefore it is undetermined if they fit this pattern or not.

Some tools to help remember the next move:

There are many "patterns" within the different patterns to remember what comes next...or more spcifically, what height things are executed at...because what comes next is a little harder to lay out. It would be interesting to examine how many different sequences are used, and what specific techniques are used with what, but that's something for down the road. Disclaimer: These tips are only for "traditional" Chang Hon style patterns created by General Choi, Hong Hi.

Color belt pattern tips:

How high do I kick

1. All side kicks in the color belt patterns (Chon Ji-Chong Moo) are middle section. All side kicks from a bending ready stance have a simultaneous high punch executed with the kick. The final two side kicks in Chong Moo also have punches with them (but not the ones in Joong Gun).
2. All front kicks following a middle hand technique (single or double) are done low.
3. All front kicks following a high hand technique (single or double) are done middle.
4. All turning kicks (except the last one in Choong Moo) are done high section.
5. The only back kick is middle.

How do I step to return to my ready position?

1. All color belt patterns, except Chong Moo step against the motion of the last series of movements. For example if you are moving toward A (the right side) you would step toward B to return to ready.
2. Chong Moo steps with the motion, which is also true for most of the black belt patterns.
3. All patterns, excluding the next four, the opposite foot that stepped into the last stance moves into ready position, for example: if the left foot steps into the last stance, the right foot will step into ready position.
4. Chon Ji, Dan Gun, and Choong Moo all move the left foot on the last move, and the left foot steps back to ready position
5. Toi Gye's last move is done by stepping the right foot, the right foot also moves back to ready postion

Black belt patterns are a little more complicated, as there are more of them.

Now stand with your right side towards your computer chair. 

Lift your right leg up and out to the side so that your foot is resting on the seat or the back of your computer chair. You should look like you've just been interrupted doing a side kick.

You look a little silly, so you may wish to go ahead and shout KAPOW ! or Put your game face on - you're about to get played suckahs!

Now, here comes the fun bit. The foot that is resting on the ground - you know, the one keeping you upright?   Jumpit off the ground, tuck it up quickly and tap your inner thigh. You should land back in the same side kick position you were in before the jump.

At no point should your right leg come off your computer chair.

Do a couple each leg. (Seriously, do it please, I'LL WAIT.)

Now, tell me, how many of you managed to get your foot off the ground? How many of you actually managed to touch your inner thigh with that foot? How many of you sustained major head injuries caused by losing your balance?

I got my foot off the ground, but only 5 cm off the ground. And boy did I feel like a dork doing it. Especially in a room full of TKD spring people. (And we didn't use chairs, we partnered up and our partners made a platform with their hands at hip height)

We also played leapfrog in teams of four. I was fine jumping over the little 7 year olds, but when it came to the fully grown man I wasn't so sure. I took a bit of a run up, then stopped. Then I thought about it for a bit, calculating angles and height. And then told him quite frankly that it wasn't going to happen.

He's a tall dude, and even with him all hunched over I could just see myself not getting high enough and then landing on his back and breaking him.

I don't want to be responsible for breaking the instructor. Every week at TKD I'd have to put up with the new people pointing at me and saying 'You know that girl? She once broke the instructor, seriously. She jumped on his back and rode him like a pony - or at least that's what I heard.'

This weekend I plan to practice jumping. I suck at jumping games, and jumping kicks, and jumping changes.

I think it is ridiculous that I got to be 22 without learning how to jump properly. There are 15 year olds in my class who can jump their own height, straight upwards from a standing start - for that matter there are 30 year olds who can do the same. I can get to about knee height.

Lifting my heels to 45° hurts. Opening them as wide as I can hurts. Holding that position hurts. Dropping back down to one inch and closing my legs doesn't hurt, but it doesn't exactly tickle either. Going back up to 45° is an excercise in pain.

I briefly drop my legs before imagining Kat scowling at me, I lift my legs back up to the proper position and scowl back. Kat isn't even here and she's being a bully. I'm going to miss her when she goes overseas.

Back down to one inch. I try tilting my hips upwards, but that doesn't help either. My lower stomach and thighs are killing me.

The things I do for Taekwon-Do I marvel. It's not like I particularly enjoy this sort of crap, right? I'm not a pain person. If I had a choice between the crazy abs workout from martial arts hell and drinking a mojito on a beach I'd choose the mojito and the beach every time right?

45°. Open. One inch. Close. Back up to 45°.

Actually I'm not even sure I like mojito's. Sometimes they're alright but other times they're just too soda waterish. And I don't like soda water.

I do like beaches though. I should really call Claire about doing that cleanup dive, it sounds like fun. Or as much fun as picking up rubbish from the ocean can really be. So, you know, lots of fun.

45°. Open. One inch. Close. 45°.

We roll over and stretch our stomachs out. Mine feels a bit like cold taffy - about to shatter into little pieces. I don't pull too hard on it.

Then we break off into groups to practice our grading skills. I'm with two other 9th gup white belt-yellow stripes, guys that I've never actually worked with before. I feel about a million years older than them, and tired.

I don't make much conversation, because I've never know how to interact with highschool aged boys. I can't tell a good fart joke to save my life. High school boys are a group that I still don't understand even now that I'm in my 20's.

We go through our pattern, Chon-Ji Tul. I struggle to get the stance changes right in the second half, and briefly consider throwing my toys. I don't. Instead I make myself stop after every turn and double check my feet. It's slow going. I wish there were mirrors here.

We run through our four directional punch and four directional block fundamentals from last grading. I'm a little annoyed at how much I've let them both slip.

Then we run through sparing: Forearm guarding block, three offensive paces forward, step back into attention stance. Three defensive paces back, counter attack.

We're supposed to yell out before we begin our defensive and before we begin our offensive. I do, but it sounds like a dying frog in a hall full of snakes. I don't like yelling out. I don't want people to hear me.

I'm tired, and my eyes hurt, and we're done. My stomach muscles breath a sign of relief, and I touch my toes to try and loosen up my back.

If I enjoyed this my back wouldn't be tense and sore.

I sort out the 'good' pain from the 'bad' pain and stretch the bits that can't wait until I get home. Nobody enjoys this sort of thing, not really.

Leaving the hall I know I've got a silly smile on my face. I'm tired and I'm sore and I'm only smiling because I'm done. There's no other reason to smile. Who the hell actually enjoys that sort of punishment?

I go home and fall asleep in the bath. I dream about doing the perfect pattern, and nailing the stance changes from gunnun sogi into niunja sogi.

The bath goes cold, and I know that I still have that stupid smile on my face.

__

I'm rock climbing tonight with Louise and maybe Karlie, anyone else interested? Send me a text before 5pm. Seriously. I'm actually going to do it this time.

Pauline Raeijmaekers, Gaella Hoeterickx en Andreea Musca
(9 Juli 2008, Nowa Ruda)

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.

I did a bit of research on Kempo and discovered... well, not a lot really. I did find out that nobody is 100% sure exactly where Kempo originated from, and that it incorporates a whole bunch of different techniques from a whole bunch of different martial arts  - including aerial and spinning kicks from Taekwon-Do.

There seems to be a few different styles, and after doing a quick google search, most of the ones in New Zealand seem to be the American branch - although I couldn't find the exact branch we're doing it with.

According to Wikipedia "American Kempo employ linear and circular movements with a signature "rapid fire" combination of blows to vital areas of the body." Now I don't know exactly what that means but WOW it does sound bad-ass doesn't it?

And that whole 'rapid fire' thing? You know what that means? It means it's going to be an awesome workout... Or, you know, it means that I'm going to have a lot of bruises on Friday and I'll have to explain to my boss that I let a 14 year old boy kick me because I was wondering whether to block. Whatever.

And you know what else I found out? They have totally cool uniforms. Lots of black, and everyone knows that black = cool.

I'll bet Kempo Karate members never have to get up at 6am in the morning to wrestle with an ironing board because they forgot about class that night after work, and then find a stain that looks a lot like cranberry juice on their belt, and then have to figure out whether normal washing powder will get that out of white, or whether they're going to have to use bleach.

Actually people who belong to Taekwon-Do might never have to worry about that either. It's probably just something that happens to me.

---

I spent lunch time yesterday in Rebel Sport shopping for new gym pants because of this. I hate gym pant shopping. I especially hate shopping in Rebel. It takes forever, there's never anything in my size, the shop assistants are few and slow to respond, and it's hideously over-priced - $80 for a pair of performance enhancing running pants with dry technology?!

I'm looking for a pair of shorts to get sweaty in, they don't have to be made out of gold and sprinkled with fairy dust.

I did not buy the fairy dust running pants. I brought the first pair on sale that would let me do wide squats and lunges without getting in the way and making my butt look saggy.*

Anyway, the point of me telling you that was because I'm curious, where do you buy your gym gear? And do you get yours with all the sides and toppings, or do you go cheap and nasty?

*Yes I did squats and lunges in the changing room in Rebel sport. It was cramped and I looked like a dork because the doors do not go right down to the floor.

And just before I tell you this main story about what happened last night, I need to preface with a few facts:

• I don't like blood.
• I don't like the thought of blood, even.
• Once when I was in primary school the local youth gang representative stapled himself in the finger while he was threatening the teacher with the stapler. I went white, the world got all underexposed and hazy, I threw up all over the place, and got to go home with Mum.

So last night at Taekwon-Do We split into two teams for team sparring.

One team picks a person for the ring, an the other counters. We were down to the second to last pair, the black belts, and they went pretty hard out on each other. 10 seconds before time was up one took an unexpected hard hit to the face.

He dropped to the ground, and was clearly in a lot of pain. I felt all the blood rush from my face. He hyperventilated, and a thin line of cold sweat appeared on my hairline. The black belts helped him off the mat and into recovery position at the side of the room.

The instructor came back to the mats and called for everyone to gather round. He explained that while accidents do happen safety is of the up-most importance to everyone in the dojang. He told us how most of the black belts had first aid certificates.

Everything looked a bit underexposed and hazy.

The instructor reiterated that that sort of thing was highly unlikely to ever happen to us, at our levels, because they simply wouldn't allow it. The instructor asked if anyone had any issues with what they had seen. When he was sure everyone was ok, the class move on to learning sparring combos.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

I leaned over the sink with my wrists under the cold water and hung my head down to get some blood back into it. Then I went out and plonked myself down against a wall and drank some water. It only took a few minutes for me to come right, so I joined back into the sparring.

At the end of class the instructor came up and said that he was sorry I missed my go in the ring after the accident. I mentioned that I was weird about blood and stuff - even though there was no blood. I couldn't explain my reaction to my satisfaction. I think he may have misunderstood me because he said that this sort of thing just plain old wouldn't be allowed to happen at my level.

I was curious as to exactly what had set me off. And exactly why, So I gave my imaginary therapist a call (I have her on speed dial.)

So, someone got hurt sparring today?

Yeah. He was ok later on. I think, it was just a hell of a shock to the system and he needed a bit of help. Someone mentioned something about possible concussion.

I understand you didn't do so well with watching that?

No I needed to sit down, and cool off. It happens a lot when I cut myself, or when other people get hurt. I'm really bad in the kitchen with knives and cutting myself because I just can't deal with blood.

So it's blood that sets you off?

Yup.

But there was no blood.

Maybe it was the suggestion of blood.

The suggestion of blood was enough to set you off?

There might have been blood. He could have broken his nose... At any moment blood could have started pouring out.

Or maybe it's just the fact that I don't like the idea of someone being hurt. All I know is I see a person in extreme unexpected pain and it's scary, and I need to sit down so I don't fall down. Or throw up.

Is it because You're worried about it happening to you?

Not particularly.

So not at all?

Maybe a tiny bit. But that's not the bit that makes me all light headed and fainty. I don't like watching people get hurt.

So why are you doing Taekwon-Do then if you don't like watching people get hurt? You know there's always the chance that something will go wrong - there's even the chance that you're going to hurt someone.

I know that they take a lot of precautions in the dojang, and at the end of the day, it is a physical sport and accidents happen. And yeah I'm really worried I'm going to hurt someone one day. But at this stage mostly what I'm doing is so ineffective that it's more likely I'll hurt myself.

Or accidentally kick someon in the balls because I don't lift high enough in some kicks. I'm very paranoid about that. Once my brother chased me through the house with a knife because I kicked him in the balls.

It was so effective at stopping him from being a little shit, that I've been scared to do it again until I really need to.

Seriously you kicked him in the balls? And your parents didn't ground you for life?

Yeah I had anger issues back then. That's not the point of this phone call though. We were talking about how I understand that accidents can and will happen.

Right, of course.

So you understand that something could go wrong, and yet when it happens you still get fainty and need to sit down? I'm not sure I understand your logic.

I know. It's freaking weird, and I'm not sure there's actually all that much logic involved. Here I'll simplify it:

Taekwon-Do is physical, there is always the small chance that someone could be hurt, it's a fact of life. I'm cool with it.

When people get hurt they make scary sounds, and there may be blood. I'm not cool with that. In fact a lot of the time I'm so not cool with it that I have to sit down and visualise my happy place with a cold bottle of water on the back of my neck.

It matters very little to me how the blood got there, the fact that there is blood is enough to make me want to throw up.

Right, blood... But you're a woman... What happens when...

It's unpleasant, but it's fine. It kind of has to be fine otherwise I'd be fucking screwed right?

Right. Sorry I know it's not a professional question to ask, you know me being your therapist and all...

I know... it's just the first question that pops into everyone's head when they find out how weird I get over cuts and stuff.