boundcreature

i just got back from my first Muay Thai kickboxing class. i feel like i have found a new home (in martial arts terms that is). the first thing that hits you when you step into the training area, is an overwhelming stench of basement sweat. it reminded me of the school where i trained in pennsylvania. one of my buddies said to my old instructor once:

"what is that smell?"

he replied:

"hard work."

and, as always, on the ball, my buddy replied:

"hard work smells like feet."

heh. that kid is a work of art. i haven't found a good school since i left pennsylvania. i did krav maga for a month in beverly and taekwondo for five or six months in kenmore, but nothing stuck, nothing felt like home.

the owner of the thai school is a man named krumark delgrotto (near as i can tell the "kru" added to his name, which is just mark, is an honorary bestowed upon him by his instructor in thailand). the only bit of advice he gave me tonight was when he saw me (mistakenly) dropping my left hand to block a low kick. he said:

"don't ever drop that hand. if that kick is coming, just eat it."

and i said:

"yes sir!"

it's nice to be around people who don't tiptoe around the fact that the martial arts are MARTIAL arts. it's also nice to be respected. i have trained in tang soo do for more than ten years, when i went to the taekwondo place, they put a white belt on me. i have a black belt in a similar korean style. the very first thing krumark told my training partner was:

"watch his technique and correct him if necessary, he has a lot of experience but he's never done muay thai."

i swear, i could've kissed him at that point. that kind of acknowledgement is all i'm asking for. i came to his school to learn, not to teach, but he recognizes that he doesn't have to baby-step me like someone who's never been punched in the face.

my training partner was great. she was pretty tough. she wasn't afraid of me, which is a rad quality in a girl, since i'm big. she showed me some techniques too. she had to wrap her hands around my neck to do a knee-strike drill and she didn't bitch about me being covered in sweat.

she came for combat.

i of course, came to look like an ass, as the first thing i did was walk into a low-hanging section of the ceiling right in front of the instructor, nearly knocking myself out and the second thing i did was lose a fight with the jump rope. i was sharing my horror stories with the other new guys after class:

"did you see that earlier? the jump rope totally kicked my ass."

"i know. how hard can it be? little girls can do it."

"don't ever underestimate little girls my friend."

on the bus ride home, it was like a ride through bizarro land, i must've got on one of the "opposite day" buses, because i sat down to read my marketing book and later looked up to find that a cute girl was drawing me. that's like a walrus eating a great white shark. what the fuck?

heh. good times.

i miss my girl.


you may or may not believe this, but i have been a fan of bob marley's for close to ten years. as i type this, i am listening to mp3's of the Uprising album.