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Published : 4 months ago (Wed, 11 Nov 2009 21:14:10 PST)
Searched: that-was-a-play-bow-damnit
http://kapunua.livejournal.com/461398.html 0 links
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Akin to a story on a friend's blog, though not as dire or as gritty, here's my newest take on fighting. And if I get onto “being a girl and fighting” I apologize, because I do wish I could say “there's no gender in Kung Fu,” but there is, and you just can't get around it.
First, I like to spar. I liked it when I did it a while back, I like it now; in fact I like it even more now than I did then.
This week marked the return of the dude I've called “Attractive Man,” because he's a good-looking guy who can be very charming. I like this guy. He's fun, funny, engaging, friendly etc. I knew we were sparring today, however I was not eager to go at it with him because I kinda know him from past drills and I know he gets his rage on and he hurts people. He has injured me once before, permanently. But! Of course everyone else got taken up so I began with him. (I thought the operative word would be “began” since we usually all switch off, but tonight we didn't. We just sparred straight for a half an hour. And before you ask, yes it was tough.)
I'm not sure how it is in other martial arts, or really in other schools, but in our school we're all kind of close, and so there's an element of trust. When you start sparring, you bump fists, and you bow to each other with a traditional gesture. It's like dogs when they play, you know how they do the play bow? “It's going to get rough, but anything we do is still play and it doesn't count as aggression. Even if one of us gets hurt, it's not aggression and we'll be cool after that.” Dogs sometimes stop playing to play bow again, and in fact in sparring, sometimes you stop to touch gloves, just to re-signal “this is sport.” Also in our school (which I really haven't witnessed anywhere else,) there's lots of laughter during sparring. That kind of, “Haha, nice shot!” Or when you really start to tangle, if someone's about to get seriously busted up, laughter usually eases it up, even if it's still going on. “See, I'm laughing; I'll put you in a hold, but it's not to hurt you; I'm not going to break your leg for real.” And, it's light contact.
Attractive Man does not know how to do “light contact.” I think that he thinks he does, but I actually told him more than once that he wasn't, and that didn't stop him. When I punch and kick, I pull it at the last minute. I'm not out to break anyone's nose or knock their block off. My kicks are to the head; you have to pull those or you can hurt someone, and you don't want to really hurt your friends. It's play, after all.
Well, anyway, he hit me in the ribs way too hard; in the chin, till my head snapped back; in the boob of all places. I said to him, “If you hurt me one more time, I'm going to hurt you back.” And finally he threw an elbow to my face that I blocked with my forearm which gave me the mother of all hematomas which swelled up on my wrist around the glove.
I bumped fists with him again and then I started letting him have it right back. I got him in the ribs a few times, on the bridge of the nose, a few times to the knee, and threw a few hook kicks. I got him into the corner for a good long time and didn't let up. I was A) really, really proud of myself and B) really, really busted up.
The last thing you want to do is get all, “Stop, you're hurting me!” Men can say this, however. Men can say “break!” when they get hurt, or stop to see to an injury. Women, not so much, because if a woman does that, it's a sign of weakness. The men are thinking, “Okay, go easy because she's a girl.” NO! Not because I'm a girl. Because I have a job, and school, and a life outside of Kung Fu and this is not Fight Club! As a girl you actually have to be tougher. It's stupid I think, having something to prove like that.
Obviously this doesn't happen every time! I've sparred with Gold Dragon, with Homeslice (he's pretty tough too but he does at least try not to hurt you,) with Empress's boyfriend, with Lady Chrysanthemum, and you know you're going to get punched, kicked, locked, etc. But you're also pretty sure that no one is going to break your arm or your ribs. You're sure that they're not going to hurt you, that they have control. This guy, I'm not so sure.
Tomorrow I'll upload some pics of my arms and legs; they're disgusting, especially my arm.
OTOH we wear those bruises and blood and injuries like medals, you know? I know it's definitely going to affect my practical classes at school when I can't flex my damn arm because he tore up all the soft tissue, but there's that part of me (and others too) that, when asked, give the half-mumbled / half smirking, “Oh, that. Kung Fu.” And in return you get the “*Gasp!* Kung Fu! Oh my! I could never do that! Doesn't it hurt? Aren't you afraid?” Which is very gratifying. We jokingly (and admittedly in very bad taste) call those the “S/he only does it because s/he loves me” arms, but we also show them off to our co-workers and co-students and whatnot.
I'm also kinda glad it happened like this, too. With light contact, you never really know what you can or can't do. One wonders, “What would I do, if someone was going to hurt me? Could I fight back? Could I block it? Could I really hurt them back and would I be able to kick that high or hard in real life? If it came down to it, could I really put a man half again my weight into the corner and make him stop hurting me?” Tonight, I found out that I could, and Sifu told me, “You're so ready to fight in tournaments.” (Okay: NO. I'm going to school for massage therapy and really can't spend all this time with my arms nearly broken. But at the same time, it made me feel great, so worthy.) So! Now I know. I know I can do it. And I do have this guy to thank for that. It's really quite a wonderful thing.
That's my super-long and ridiculously rambly take on sparring, on me sparring, on the understanding (or lack thereof) of “light contact” and of trust and experience.
I realize this is an abrupt subject change but I hate what Phenobarb is doing to Haku. He can barely walk. Not only is he tired and weak, he's totally wobbly and sometimes he just can't even stand up. Worse, tonight he took a header down the stairs. I knew he was wobbly and I was going to hold him as he walked down, but the stairs are slippery as hell and he took that first step, went clean out of my grip, and just plunged face-first into the front door with his legs splayed. Then he couldn't get up and just lay there crying. He's only four. I hate this. I can't wait until he gets used to this drug. It's no use wishing he didn't need it because he obviously does. Just have to wait it out. :/
What else? I got 100 on my neuro test, and yesterday in Myo2 earned the whole class an extra five points on the quiz by demonstrating an obscure result of a reverse muscle action on the skeleton guy. I was pretty pleased. :)
Well, I'm beat, metaphorically and not so metaphorically. Gotta take my poor sad puppies outside and go into my nice warm bed to read for a while. |
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