he's a funny guy.

Exchange between my father and I after I told him my bike was stolen, m= me d=him:

d- well you know there's an instructional video on how to get your bike back if someone steals it.

m- yeah?

d- yeah. It's called "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure."

Funny thing about people is that they generally just look like ordinary people when you meet them.

I forget sometimes that the term "white belt" doesn't mean much to most people.

Let me weave you a tale about what it was like when I was a "white belt".

I am unable to erase certain parts of my memory-- and this is not a complaint. I like being able to recall in stunning technicolor detail, the events of the past.

The first time I met my Instructor we talked a little bit about what some of my goals were and why I wanted to train in Martial Arts. I told him that it was something I had always been interested in, I also remember implying that he would know immediately, with his superior and mystical knowledge, where I stood physically, and be able to determine a few things from there. I implied this information in a nervous kind of joking way.

ll- me

if-him

ll: You'll know, right? Like, you'll be able to tell what I can do, right? -nervous giggle-

if: Excuse me..? -his hands go behind his back, Wong Fei Hung style-

I had never met a real life martial artist before and didn't know how to behave around one- I believe at this point all I have gained is perspective. I still screw up sometimes, but now instead of feeling like I've been blind sided by a train, it's more like watching myself fall down the stairs.

At this point I know better.

At this point I try only to be honest.

Stern, he thinks I'm messing around with him, I'm sure. Little does he know, I'm serious and totally believe that this is possible-- I am not mocking him, but I think he thinks I am. Either way, with these two words, he is able to communicate to me that he is not one with which to fuck. I stammer over a serious explanation of what I was getting at, and he becomes pleasant again.

The above was to be the first in a long line of misinterpreted statements between the two of us- mostly involving me trying to joke with him, and he being unavailable for it. What can I say, my timing isn't always great. Many of these [failed] interactions are fondly recalled, if not all that fun to go through at the time they unfolded.

A late night phone call:

if: Hello, Assistant Instructor Lindsay, are you awake?

ll: Yes, are you?

Silence on the other line. I become alarmed..

I realize these failed jokes could be because I'm just not that funny..

Tra laaa..

All seemingly flip comments about my Instructor are made out of a familiar affection, by the way. A tiger is, in it's own way, cute- but it is still a tiger and must live it's way. Because he is an unrelentingly accomplished human being who takes himself very seriously, for whom I have nothing but love, admiration and respect, I must find some harmless way to pick on him, because that is my way. Thems the breaks.

I went through my first lesson pretty convinced that I had just entered a war-like environment, survival being at the forefront of my mind. I find that when talking to people about Martial Arts training, no matter when someone signs on, the training is always far more grueling, painful, and impossible a few years before the newbie shows up. Hard is hard is hard. Learning to walk isn't easy- what most people forget is that when they start in about how "hard things used to be" is that the time they are talking about is probably around when they were in a time of some heavy learning and development.. which is, duh, HARD. Of course it was harder then. If the teacher is worth their space in the classroom they'll be sure to make it hard again, because real goddamned martial arts training isn't easy.

I had initially intended to write about my very first test in this entry-- I suppose I still could.

I remember coming in late to the lesson having been across town without my bike on some lame 'date' with some lame 'guy' who my friend Jay nicknamed the 'windmachine'.

This is a hilarious nickname, by the way. The guy had long hair and rode his bike without a helmet, leaving his hair to drift along behind him, but the possibilities for further interpretation of said name are [almost] endless.

I had done very little 'studying' for said test, believing that I could leave it to chance and get the most accurate picture of what I knew if I didn't. I recall during the very beginning movements blowing something out of my nose that stayed on my upper lip a few moments before I was able to remove it. I remember lifting the wrong foot during a particular short form and heading incorrectly for the wall. I remember interpreting a 'side kick' as 'kicking to the side'.

At the end of the test my Instructor asked me some questions about the school and why I train in it. He asked me what the most important thing I was learning was. When I hesitated he gave me a hint, said that there was a really famous song with the same name that started with an "R". I was tempted to say "Rapture", but instead went to the obvious "Respect" which is, you know, TRUE. He also asked me what my understanding of Kung Fu was, and I gave him some canned sass-pot answer that I had read off of the schools website, unsure what he was looking for and feeling that I wasn't in any position to free style with my limited exposure to the art. Did the same thing with Qi Gong, but I think I did slightly better with this question. He asked me what I thought of when I was holding positions-- I told him I thought of numbers, songs.. plans.. he started to shake his head. I asked him if he wanted what I actually thought of or what I should think of during holding- these being two different things at the time. I eventually gave him the better answer and we moved on.

I held a horse position while he graded the test in the office.

He came out and told me I had passed and gave me the scores, the self defense being the lowest.

I tested for 2nd Degree on August 31 2010.

I sat in a meditation position while both my Instructors graded the test in the office.

They came out and told me I had passed, but we would go over the actual scores at some later date-- I am sure the self defense will be the lowest.

My first section test was easily as hard and stressful as my 2nd Degree test, though naturally the circumstances had escalated appropriately. Instead of doing simple punch and kick combinations for a few seconds, I was doing forms while not actually attached to the ground (to be read any way the reader likes, I'm sure all interpretations are true). Also, there is much more hinging on my 2nd Degree than my first section.. obviously.

Maybe I'm a little more serious now, though I wonder if any more serious than I would be if I hadn't been training for the last 5 years.

5 years? September 2005 to September 2010?

That would be only 5, wouldn't it?

Not long at all.

Like it was yesterday, but also like that 'yesterday' was a million years ago.

That is 365 million days of gratitude.