I’ve been remiss in writing lately ’cause my schedule’s gotten a whole lot busier of late. Starting Tuesday, I officially began karate classes. It’s been a long time coming. I promised my daughter I’d start months ago, but kept putting it off because I was adding so many more things to my plate. I don’t even feel that ashamed that my 5-year-old daughter (now a green belt) knows more than me. It won’t be the last time.
I’m doing the lunch class. It’s smaller and I get lots of attention which is wonderful. I’m a little intimidated, though. You start out as a white belt. Well, the Tuesday class had seven people, including me. No one had less than a brown belt.
I’ve never taken a formal class. When I was young, my cousin tried to teach me and another cousin but we only lasted about two lessons. I have a couple of cousins who are black belts. And my uncle is a black belt. But really the closest I’ve ever come to being serious about it was watching some Bruce Lee films back in the ’80s.
About half the class is spent warming up and exercising. Several people, including sensei told me not to overdo it the first day. But I had that guy “I’ve got to prove my mettle” thing going. I wore myself out but not too, too much. I’m still a little sore from the situps and pushups, but not too bad.
Another sensei said I was doing quite well for my first class. I took that to be honest encouragement. I know I’ve got a lot of work to do and my exacting standards won’t let me believe him until I’m ready for my first qualifications.
Any sport where you can hit a guy who’s almost double your proportions and you not get hit is a good thing … so far.
I’m looking forward to my second class. I’ve got a lot to learn. And a 5-year-old to lead me.