One day when dropping off the child formerly known as Derek at kindergarten, Ms. Barnes pulled me aside. “Derek keeps telling people his mom can beat up their parents.”
My eyes narrowed as I tried to decide the next right thing to say. I knew it probably wasn’t, “Well, tell me more about them” or “Maybe I can” or “If this is about that one dad with the blackeye,… he should’ve blocked.”
So instead, I tried to stifle my grin and assured her I would talk to him about it.
My first attempt at anything martial artsy was in my late 20’s. A buddy wanted to try kick boxing and wanted company. NOT cardio kickboxing. Kickboxing in a grungy looking gym that smelled exactly like you’d think the ones in the movies would smell.
I’d never hit or kicked anything before, nor had I tried to avoid being hit or kicked. It felt amazing. I loved everything from methodical hand wrapping to the sight of a bag moving in response to the effort put in to a kick or punch. It was the first time that I recall exercise being an incidental part of a bigger goal; things like “I’m going to practice with my jump rope so I can have more cardio conditioning.” There were layers of activity that were all novel and interesting.
Kickboxing was not a good match for the maternity years, so my interest was on hold a minute.
When the boys hit 4 and 2, I decided to look into martial arts again.
Enter Northwest Martial Arts. American Kenpo Karate with Sifu Alan Myrtle and his son, Nick.
I wasn’t totally sure if it was going to be for me. But after 7 years of training, I’m pretty sure it was exactly what I needed.
The early lessons had all the things that capture my attention; challenge me, humble me, give me opportunity to grow and improve. Everything was awkward; task after task that felt exactly like the first time you try to rub your stomach and pat your head. As each task was understood(ish), there was another task to challenge again.
The memories of it all quicken my heart to this day.
Bad day at work? Take it out on the bag.
Ever wondered what it feels like to be thrown to the ground? Wonder no more. And, oh MY! The feeling of throwing someone else to the ground…! Just like Cobra Kai, I learned how to “sweep the leg!” I also learned the ability to cause submission by the gentle act of an arm bar.
Want to go ham on a fellow classmate with wooden sticks? Put on the padded suit and the face cage and get to it. (That was an epic one. “You going to tell people you beat a Deputy with a stick?” “Yea. You going to tell people you beat a social worker with a stick?” “Yea.”)
Want to know how you’ll do under pressure? Belt test. I was so nervous from before each one. I’ve locked my keys in my vehicle a total of 3 times in my life. Two of those times were on the day of my first brown belt test. In case you’re wondering, I went as far as 2nd degree brown belt. In my system, there is only 2 more belts till. Black. (Close! But yet, so far!)
Want to know if you feel comfortable being an outlier? Stand alone at a tournament sign-in table with your 2 young children in tow. “Are both boys competing?” “Actually, it’s me.” Then later, right before you put in your mouthguard tell your little ones to listen to Beth, “I’ll be right back.” I loved the tournaments. A way test your skill against others. A favorite was when I’d won against both a mom and a daughter. Probably both with a stopping knife edge kick. It was kinda all I had.
Curious how it would be to have a decent black eye as a social worker? Wait for the bare knuckle sparring that comes from some of the tests. For days, people at such places as Wright Education (the biggest anger management game in town), Juvenile Hall, and Children’s Services all got to see that I didn’t block. (sigh!)
I was there long enough to see martial arts cause some unbelievable transformations for children. Long before I’d been taught about the importance of physical activity in relation to neurosequential modeling, I was able to just see kids blossom in martial arts. Shy kids found their voice with a kiai. Busy kids got to stimulate their bodies so their minds could soothe. They simultaneously learned confidence and humility. I also got to watch them grow both in their bodies and in their skills. That day when the person who was a kid now kicks your ass,…that day is a special one.
I gave it a go with my kids, but it didn’t stick. No matter how cool Karate is, it’s going to lose some of it’s vibe when it’s your mom’s jam. I may as well have signed them up for needlepoint.
Over the years, there’s been more than a few day dreams of me vanquishing some enemy with my sneaky karate skill. I’ve never had to test them for real to know. But I do know what it feels like to get struck. Which is nice.
I’m incredibly grateful for my Karate time. I highly encourage anyone to look in to self-defense and martial arts for more reasons than I could list in 100 blogs. But when you do, make sure you tell you kids something very important. “Just because mommy comes home and brags about beating someone, doesn’t mean we can say it to the other kids in Kindergarten.”
Bifocals and Barbells 