Joelle White

A Liminal Experience

I was archiving old blog posts when I ran across this one from February 2015, when I was eight months into my training. In the introduction of that post I wrote:

“I am not always comfortable with sharing my inmost thoughts… I don’t like opening myself up. But I’ve met enough of you to know that if I do step out of my comfort zone a bit I will come out better for what I’ve learned from you.”

I sat bolt upright in my chair and read the whole post. In that article I wrote that I had been waffling but eventually decided to go ahead and write about a punch that, fortunately, missed my sparring partner. I outlined how I processed my feelings about knowing that I could inflict great harm so unexpectedly early into my training.

Further down, I read my words:

“I have a feeling I’ll be revisiting this issue and working through everything that goes with it throughout my karate career. Am I correct?”

Oh I was absolutely correct. I read through to the end:

“If even just one person can benefit from what I’ve written, it’ll be worth everything.”

I had no idea how much my own words from my past would benefit my own self nearly two and a half years later. I stopped archiving old blogs and started typing the draft of this post. I had been waffling about writing this blog post, but I saw the courage I had then. You see, shortly after my last blog post I landed in the same position I was back in February 2015:

“It was tempting for me to just never let anyone know [about the lethal punch that didn’t land], but this blog is about the experiences of a beginner. Sometimes us beginners have to deal with hard things.”

I still consider myself a beginner. My belt rank (currently 4th kyu – an intermediate rank) says I’m not a newbie, but there’s still a pretty wide gap ability-wise between myself and a shodan (1st degree black belt). I’ll still consider myself a beginner after shodan because I’ll still be learning new things. And yes, sometimes us beginners have to deal with hard things.

Earlier this month I accidentally injured someone while we were sparring.

It took me quite a number of days to process everything that went with the accident. Some people were concerned that I was taking it too hard. I dragged myself to the dojo and was grateful whenever my fellow students showed they weren’t afraid to work with me – particularly the teenagers of both genders. I received advice from sensei (instructors, plural).

One kind friend wrote, “Perhaps try to look on this as a liminal (transitional) experience if you can? You are becoming Joelle who has the genuine ability and power to hurt others; and to be a woman who can live and thrive well beyond the tight, dreary rules about what “femininity” is supposed to look like.”

I know very well that transitions can be hard (e. g. college to working world) or downright brutal (e. g. puberty). If we play our cards right, we come out better people for what we’ve learned. As another confidante put it, “As we used to say in the mountains of western North Carolina – sometimes you get the bear; sometimes the bear gets you. Just try to be better than you were the last time you met a bear.”

An interesting phenomenon to note is that the gentlemen I’ve confided in are quite pragmatic about the whole situation and about what I need to do and not do. There are some women who echo the gentlemen’s perspective. But most women have a different take on the incident. My opinion is that this difference in perspective exists because most boys grow up with rough-and-tumble play in which they injure themselves and each other fairly frequently. I simply listen to what everyone has to say and I try to learn from all.

“I have a feeling I’ll be revisiting this issue and working through everything that goes with it throughout my karate career. Am I correct?”

Yes, this has already happened nearly two and a half years after I wrote those words. Furthermore, I’ll bet some day I’ll have to counsel my own students through a similar situation.

On this blog I’ve been loosely translating “sensei” as “instructor,” but a better definition is “one who has gone before.” Sometimes being the one who has gone before means you’ve walked down some roads that nobody should walk down (but we’re human, so we do walk those roads sometimes). From raising my own children I know this is true. Sometimes your darkest moments and deepest regrets enable you to effectively counsel your children if and when they face similar situations in their own lives. I deeply appreciate the sensei (plural) who have said what needed to be said about what I did, especially if it was hard for me to hear. I am learning how to handle this situation so that when my own students go through it, I will have the tools to help them.

As a side note, I’ve been treasuring the continued confidence of a young girl kohai (a student lower ranked than oneself). She was a witness to the incident and immediately afterward she was the one who insisted that I take care of myself. She brought me a damp towel and told me to clean up so I could see if I myself had an injury. She has not been afraid to work with me during subsequent classes. Her trust has helped me to regain my confidence. Some kids just goof around and don’t do much then they quit. Some kids stay, and boy are they molded and shaped! Hats off to my young kohai.

A Karate Weekend

Excellent training, breathtaking countryside, a tournament in an air & space museum and a friend to share it all with. I had a great weekend. I came back refreshed and eager to get to work on the things in my karate that need improvement.

Bright and early Saturday morning (6/24/17) I picked up my friend S. T. She is from Japan and has just finished up her studies at the community college where I work. We’ve been training together for a few months now, and it will be hard to say goodbye in a couple of weeks. After a little over three hours we rolled into a city just outside Portland, Oregon.

We were a bit ahead of schedule so I introduced my friend S. T. to the joys of thrift stores. It just so happened that I needed shorts and found a pair immediately. The shorts still had the original store tags on them, so I showed S. T. the original price and the thrift store price. To top it all off, Oregon has no sales tax. I explained the thrift store’s mission. S. T. was impressed.

In due time we reached our destination. My Dojo Sensei (the head instructor of the school where I study) had contacted the Dojo Sensei of our organization’s Hombu Dojo (headquaters) and obtained permission for S. T. and I to attend Saturday class there. It turned out to be a very tiny class and I was very definitely the lowest ranked. I absolutely love it when that happens.

Under the direction of one sensei (instructor), three of us worked intensively on kumite (sparring) for ninety minutes. I was the only one who hadn’t earned at least a Shodan (first degree black belt) yet. I’ve learned not to be intimidated under these circumstances. We had a lot of fun together and I learned very valuable lessons. The sensei who led the class had been wanting to help me ever since he saw me bopped on the nose two seconds into a sparring match with someone one rank higher than me. He sure got his chance, and I am grateful.

At the end of the class, the sensei who led us told me that my kumite wouldn’t be fixed tomorrow, nor next week or next month. But, he continued, if I continue to practice what I’d learned, eventually it will sink in and I will improve. I believe it. I already knew I couldn’t expect a quick fix that would win me the gold medal in the tournament the next day. Learning new skills and honing existing skills is a process that takes time.

My gi was soaked with sweat, I was happily tired, and my brain was full of what I’d learned. That’s my excuse for not practicing kata (forms) on mats after class. Bad karateka (one who studies karate). Bad, bad, bad karateka!

Over bottles of juice at a convenience store, my friend S. T. and I looked up local attractions and decided to visit a lavender farm. We drove through beautiful farm country. S. T. was in awe as we rounded the bend of a road and came upon a particularly beautiful field.

“THIS is America,” she breathed, “I cannot get this view anywhere in Japan.”

I had to agree.

The lavender farm was interesting and beautiful. I did not know there are varieties of lavender, and my friend and I delighted in trying to tell the differences both in form and scent. We enjoyed the antiques and befriended a dog. I got a kick out of the chickens – one was black with a white “wig.” They weren’t as friendly as the dog.

Because of the heat (100 F, 38 C) and overall fatigue, we decided to check in to our motel. S. T. took a nap while I washed our gi (uniforms) and visited a convenience store. It’s a good thing I decided to wash the gi (plural). I had thought I’d packed my everyday gi and my nice competition gi, but it turned out I’d packed my everyday gi and a ratty old gi. My everyday gi had to suffice for the morrow’s tournament. After I hung the gi to dry, it was my turn to relax while S. T. finished her nap and looked up some information about a university she’s thinking of transferring to. I jotted down notes from the morning’s class, then I had the luxury of reading a novel for a good solid hour.

Dinner was another adventure for S. T. The only Cracker Barrel restaurant on the West Coast opened up a few months ago. It had been years since I’d been to one. Because it was 100 degrees and I was walking into a Cracker Barrel I had a hard time remembering that I wasn’t in Texas! When my meal arrived I got my Japanese friend to try the Southern staple known as “grits.” She asked if it was rice, and I replied one can easily make rice grits with a grain grinder. She enjoyed her BLT and we both enjoyed the reasonable prices.

Talk about having trouble remembering where we were… On the way back to the motel I decided to stop at a gas station. I forgot that in Oregon, one is not allowed to put fuel in one’s vehicle. The gas station attendant does that. The attendant was cheerful, and I was grateful for his humor. He must get at least five out of state tourists per shift who forget to stay in their cars.

I for one slept like a log.

After a quick breakfast of juice, toast, and fruit in the motel lobby, we were on our way. It was an absolutely gorgeous morning, and good thing because the drive was spectacular. It was farm country nearly all the way to the tournament venue. The morning sun was beautiful, illuminating trees, grass, and flowers. We climbed up a ridge to what I guesstimate was 500 feet ( 152 meters) and spent a good long while driving a road along the top of that ridge. Every so often we’d have spectacular views of the Willammete Valley, its farms spread out like a quilt below us. S. T. and I were both in awe.

We descended into the valley and drove through vineyards to the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum. Last year I wrote about competing under the tail of the Spruce Goose in the aviation part of the museum. This year, the tournament was held in the Space building. It was good to see Oregon friends as we hustled about to get ready for the tournament. I got a kick out of competing among and below space capsules, a model of Sputnik, and experimental aircraft designed for use in the upper atmosphere.

I spent most of the day watching, napping, and snacking. I really enjoyed seeing tiny tots who couldn’t have been older than three. At the opposite end of the spectrum were more seasoned warriors. Truly, Karate can be enjoyed by a wide range of age groups. Whenever I could, I tried to sit where I could hear the coaches. I would like a thorough grounding in and experience in judging and refereeing before I move into that realm, but it doesn’t hurt to listen and observe now. Eventually I had to go to staging and get warmed up.

Just before my division was called I got a chance to see friends in action. I cheered a gentleman who is my kohai (a student lower ranked than oneself). I helped him learn the kata (form) he performed and was immensely proud when he won gold. He did well in kumite (sparring) too, as I knew he would. My Japanese friend S. T. did not compete in kata, just in kumite. She had a ferocious fight that was fun to watch. Her opponent really gave her a run for the money. I was in awe of S. T. that’s for sure!

My division was small, just two of us. At the last tournament, one of my sensei had pointed out that I could’ve challenged myself by performing the kata I had most recently learned (its name is Jion). Just for him, I did just that this tournament. I won gold in kata. The sensei who had instructed me the day before was right – I didn’t receive a magic fix that would get me the gold medal in kumite (and as I said before, I wasn’t expecting one because learning new skills takes time). However, I did notice I was a lot better at staying loose. That’s progress. My opponent and I know each other pretty well by now, so this match I realized that I have to build my repertoire. Off the mats, we are starting to get acquainted, and we had a very nice chat after we were awarded our medals.

All too soon it was time to say goodbye to Oregon friends and hit the road. S. T. and I spent the hours in the car talking and silently mulling over the experiences we’d shared. Soon, S. T. will go home to spend her summer back home in Japan, then she will start a new American adventure at whichever university she chooses. As much as I enjoy my work with the local community college’s International Student Program, the goodbyes every quarter are hard, and after Spring Quarter is the worst. I’m sad that I will say goodbye to my friend soon, but I’m very happy for her and I’m immensely proud of her.

Two Against One

Two men were closing in, angling me in the direction I didn’t want to go. They were taller than me and they meant business. I tried in vain to position myself to where the evening sun would be behind my back, shining in their eyes. Eventually I stopped trying for the optimal position. For an instant, the three of us were still. I only had a heartbeat to make a decision. As I drew breath I threw myself forward and sprinted between the men. On my right, a brief flash of pain as my thigh absorbed a kick. The left sleeve of my jacket slipped between the other man’s fingers. I was free, running down the soccer field like a rabbit. I ran towards cars, people, safety. I was grateful for all those times Sensei (the title for a karate instructor) had me sprint uphill, trying to beat my best time. This sprint on a level field was much easier.

I laughed around my mouth guard. My little experiment was a success. I ran just far enough to make my point, then turned back. I raised my padded fists in challenge to the two tall men, who were closing in once more. The whole point of the exercise was to engage, to experiment in a mostly safe way, so I threw myself into the fight. When circumstances permitted, I tried sprinting again. Sometimes I got away, sometimes I got caught. I learned the ideal times and relative positions for running away. This was as close to street fighting as I care to get.

Quite frankly, common sense, not Karate, has kept me alive for 47 years. First my mother’s common sense, then my own. To date, I have had to make a decision to fight or flee only once. The decision to run kept me alive. So in this more-or-less safe setting I practiced fleeing. But I also practiced fighting – after all, this was my chance to experiment with that too. My fellow students pressed me hard, and Sensei called a halt only when I was clearly exhausted and overwhelmed.

You learn a lot about yourself when your brain refuses to believe that you will come out of the situation with only a bruise on your thigh and some grass stains on your gi. I really am my own worst enemy. I’m glad I am learning how to deal with this in mostly-safe settings. That evening, yes I fought terror, but there were also moments of elation when something I did worked. Like when I got thrown to the ground and I twisted away from one opponent while planting both feet in the stomach of the other, pushing him hard with my legs. The elation I felt when I regained my feet was sweet.

So what did I learn about fighting in a life-or-death scenario? I learned I can’t be “nice,” otherwise I’m toast. I was “nice” to my two senpai (more senior students). I didn’t target joints, the throat, or (cough cough), um, “that.” I didn’t use very many techniques against these gentlemen because I don’t trust my ability to perform some of the really nasty joint-shattering things we learn from kata (forms) unless I’m going slowly in a highly controlled drill. So if I couldn’t kick knees, punch throats, or grab wrists and slam elbows, that left me with… Not much of anything. But conquering my opponents and looking like a superstar really wasn’t the point of this exercise. The point was to come as close as we could to real fighting without harming each other. The point was to see what worked and what didn’t work in a two-versus-one scenario.

Eventually it was my turn to be one of two opponents against someone else. Again I was the smallest of our group of three, and the only lady. My partner and our opponent fought hammer and tongs. I darted in at the worst possible times for our opponent. Sometimes our opponent saw or heard me coming and had a counter, sometimes he didn’t and I’d get a quick (light, controlled) hit to the kidneys or face. A dark glee rose up in me when our opponent went down. I have to admit at one point I even crowed, “He’s down!” and punched his nose (lightly).

Later, when I was driving home and processing things, at first I felt a little ashamed of this dark glee. I thought, “Two against one isn’t really fair, after all.” But then I realized that there is a time and a place for two against one. It is always OK to stop evil from happening. If the bad guy is outnumbered, too bad for him. Learning how to work with someone to bring someone else down is a valuable exercise. Processing the emotions that the successful execution of violence brings is also a valuable exercise.

I’m not sure I quite understand all the aspects of that dark glee I felt, but I’m working on it. I don’t think I can explain it – and I tried while writing the draft of this post. Most importantly, I’ve come to terms with that particular emotion and I recognize it has its place. I’m very glad I had a more-or-less safe setting and hadn’t actually hurt anyone. I wonder if policemen and soldiers sometimes feel this dark glee. I wish I could ask my late grandpa (a WWII veteran) about it.

What we learn in Karate is not just physical. I’ve come to appreciate being pushed and being pushed hard. Quite often, the most difficult physical exercises lead to the deepest lessons.

On a lighter note…

While I was watching the first trio of fighters I heard a little boy call out, “LOOK! A black belt is fighting two guys at the same time!!!”

Ya know, when I got through with my fight, nobody shouted, “Hey look! A slightly-lumpy middle-aged matron survived being beaten up by two big guys!!!”

Life just ain’t fair… LOL!

Three Year Karateversary

Click here to read about my First Karateversary

Click here to read about my Second Karateversary

Three years of adventure and growth – time flies when you’re having fun!

For the past two “karateversary” blog posts I’ve re-capped how I spent my day. I’ll get to that. This has been a year of huge changes for me and there might be more coming in my fourth year. I want to do some comparing and contrasting first.

My daughter was training alongside me during my first year of training. However, about a month into my second year, she opted to pursue other things. I’ve heard this sort of thing is common for parents who pursue a martial art alongside their offspring.

I wrote in my first “karateversary” post…

“I’ve earned rank and medals. I’m a dojo (karate school) representative on the Board of Directors for fundraising activities and special events. My body is much stronger. I’ve learned more about myself than I ever imagined I could…”

All this is still true two years later. I’ve earned rank and medals. As of this calendar year I’m an officer on the Board of Directors (the Secretary – perfect considering my professional background). I’m getting stronger and I’m still learning about myself.

Both years I wrote about other dojos being a part of my Karate education. During my second “karateversary” post I wrote about the fun I had at “Faraway Dojo.” I used to visit that dojo bimonthly, but lately that hasn’t been feasible for me. I have a full training schedule. In fact, except for College Dojo, I haven’t spent much time at other dojos in recent months. I’ll touch the surface of why below.

College dojo was featured prominently in both past “karateversary” blog posts. I’m still helping with the college Karate Physical Education class, at least until the end of the current quarter. There’s good news and bad news about College Dojo. For the upcoming Fall Quarter (2017) the class will meet during a much better time slot. Unfortunately that time slot conflicts with my work schedule. I have only two more classes. I will miss being involved with that class, but I’m hoping that a better time slot will lead to more students. I’d love to see that happen! Who knows, maybe some day I can be a part of that class again. But for now, I have to let go and add more self-directed practice time.

For the past three years this blog has been peppered with references to other dojos within the karate organization my “home” dojo belongs to. My visits to these dojos slowed down during the Fall of 2016. I stayed close to “Home Dojo” until that dojo was shut down by the host facility near the end of November 2016. A sister dojo took me and other Old Home Dojo karateka in with open arms. I’ve sometimes referred to this dojo as “Affiliate YMCA Dojo,” or “Sister Dojo #1.” It is my new home.

I haven’t had much time for visiting other dojos because I’m getting a lot of training at my new home dojo. I get 6+ hours per week of dojo time there. If you add in the 2 hours per week at College Dojo plus the long drive time to my new home dojo, that’s a pretty big chunk of my life. I will still see the karateka from the other sister dojos from time to time. I will still be able to train with them at seminars, gasshuku, godo renshu, etc. But I think my shoes are finally nailed to the floor.

There have been shifts and changes in where I train, and what it boils down to is I’m actually where I ought to be. I am an intermediate-level student about to take the next step forward. I’ve helped out at College Dojo quite a lot since February 2016, when I suddenly found myself in the role of senior student. At Old Home Dojo I rose to the position of second-highest-ranked student, and therefore I had a responsibility to help new beginners and my other kohai (more junior students) during Old Home Dojo’s last months. All that teaching and helping has been and will be scaled back considerably. I do get opportunities to help my kohai at New Home Dojo. But after Spring Quarter ends, I will go back to spending the vast majority of my karate time either practicing or learning. This is in keeping with my current rank (4th kyu). I am content with this.

I am preparing for my next belt test. I don’t know when I will be told that I need to test. It’s a big jump because the test will be more difficult. Frankly I’m not in any hurry. Don’t get me wrong, if Sensei says I need to make plans to test at the next opportunity, I will say (or squeak) “Osu!” (“Yes, Sir!”) and go take the test. But I just want some time to fix and refine some things. I’m enjoying the longer stretches between tests.

Training in how to teach Karate will be emphasized during the next few years (from 3rd kyu until Shodan). I’m a little ahead of that game due to prior experience as a teenager and from helping at Old Home Dojo and College Dojo. But there’s so much more I need to learn!

After I earn my next rank I will be eligible to earn certification for judging at tournaments. I’ve already begun attending as many referee seminars as I can, and I’ve studied the WKF rules off and on. It’s taking quite awhile for all the new information to sink in, so I’m starting early.

It will be interesting to look back on this post a year from now.

Now, here’s how I spent my “karateversary.”

Usually on Saturday mornings I go to my New Home Dojo. I’ll maybe catch the last half of Zumba then I’ll work on my arms and abs while the ladies chat for awhile after class. When the room is empty, I shuck my shoes and get to work on karate stuff. This morning was different. I’ve been feeling run down since Tuesday. I also haven’t slept well as my special needs daughter has been struggling with allergies in the wee hours of the morning. I decided the weather was perfect for practicing kata in the garage. Instead of spending time driving (about 20 minutes one way with no traffic), I took a nap. I woke up refreshed and ready to go.

The weather was cloudy and cool (59 F, 15 C). Just the way I like it. I wore shorts and a T-shirt, knowing that I would quickly work up a sweat. I set my keys, notes, and water bottle down on a table. I moved aside some bamboo I have drying for craft projects and started right in with the first kata (form) we learn. I couldn’t kiai (loud shout) because I didn’t know if the neighbors would be disturbed by it. I finished up the first kata of 18 that I’ve memorized – so far so good. My heart rate was up and a light sweat was beginning. A sip of water, some deep breathing, and I started with the second basic kata. I discovered a bad habit – my blocks were sloppy. How long have I been practicing this kata? Three years! Yike. I went through it slowly and with better form. Then full speed. I’ll have to be mindful of this in the future.

I worked my way through the basic and intermediate kata (plural). At one point, I heard a hawk twittering. At the end of the kata I was working on I took a little break and watched it glide and swoop in the breeze. Back to work. There are three kata that originated with the style I’m studying (Shindo Jinen-ryu). I’ve memorized two of them, and am itching to learn the third. I spent a good bit of time hammering those into my memory. I saw the neighbor across the street watching me. It’s OK, he understands this Karate “thing.”

As I worked through an advanced kata I realized my practice wasn’t entirely risk-free. I caught my left hand on the wire that disengages the garage-door opener. I have a small sore spot. As I practiced another advanced kata I was bothered by some weeds that were growing in cracks in the driveway, so I hacked those down. It occurred me that I could whack weeds in between kata. So now I have a small blister from the tool I was using, but a lot of obnoxious weeds are cut down to size. Oh, and I have no idea how my legs will feel in the morning – they’ll probably be sore. Again. That’s usual for me these days. I’m getting stronger.

Thursday night, the Dojo Sensei (the school’s head instructor) told each of us students which kata to work on. He assigned Seienchin to four 3rd-1st kyu karateka (higher ranking students). When he came to me, he just asked me out of the blue, “Would you like to learn Seienchin (an advanced kata)?” Did I ever! Then he assigned another sensei to be my tutor. For awhile my senpai (senior students) surrounded me as the sensei taught, so that was very cool! They eventually drifted off to practice on their own, that’s fine. I had lots of fun. Friday, I watched videos online, chose my favorite, and took notes. Today, I tested out those notes.

I was glad I’d stayed home instead of going to the rec center because I was able to go inside and look at the video when my notes didn’t make sense. Actually my notes were pretty good, so I only made a couple of changes. I forgot to note where the kiai are – oops! I made myself memorize half the kata than stopped. I prefer to build a kata piecemeal when I’m learning it – memorize each segment before moving on to the next. I’ve only been learning Seienchin for three days and I love it.

I was about ready to close and lock the garage door when I realized I hadn’t run through the most important kata to me right now – the one I will be tested on at my next belt test. Oh snap. I ran through it a couple of times. I chopped a few more weeds and then I was done. I’d put in a good solid 90 minutes on a total of 18 kata and even got a little yard work done.

Back to comparing and contrasting! At the three year mark I have 17 kata memorized and am working on memorizing the 18th. Last year, I had 13 kata memorized. The year before that, I had eight kata memorized. Notice I don’t say I know a kata. I’m still finding out things about the very first basic kata. I don’t really know any of my kata all that well. Kata is a lifetime study, really. And I’m really looking forward to learning and refining the kata that I memorized in the year to come!

Tournament 5/13/17

Yep, it’s time for another tournament blog post! In past tournaments I’ve been easily the best, I’ve been definitely the worst, I’ve won or lost by a hair, and I’ve been the dark horse. Heck, the tournament before this one I was injured and didn’t even compete –I just volunteered. I’ve learned from every single tournament experience. What happened this time? What did I learn? Read on!

Three days before the tournament (5/13/17) I was crawling around unhooking mats after class. I hadn’t performed all that well while sparring a few days before, and it was on my mind. Suddenly it hit me. Each mat is one square meter. Opponents start sparring from starting positions that are two meters apart. Two meters is not a big distance, especially if both opponents move towards each other at the same time. I realized I’d been treating two meters as if it were a much greater distance, hence my bad habit of moving in with, well… nothing.

It was one of those moments when I felt really foolish, but at the same time I was relieved. I had identified a problem, and that’s half the battle of fixing it. I felt even more foolish when I remembered all those drills in covering distance that we’d done in class. I quickly turned to more positive thinking – at least I had some tools in my toolbox. Three days before a tournament is not the time to try to fill an empty toolbox!

The tournament was so small we had only two rings and finished in about four hours. It was so small that all intermediate and advanced women aged 18 and older were in the same division. I knew my fellow competitors, so I knew I was most definitely the lowest ranked and the only Intermediate-level competitor. I’m always thrown in with Advanced, so I didn’t mind that. What threw me for a little bit of a loop was the tournament was so small that we were able to perform kata one competitor at a time instead of two competitors at the same time. I was grateful I was performing in the second round because I had never practiced making the formal entrance for solo performance – this is usually for advanced and elite divisions. I paid close attention to how this is done, and I’m pretty sure I did everything correctly even though I’d never entered the ring that way before.

I wish I could say my kata (form) was my best tournament performance to date, but alas, I stumbled. I never stumble in that particular part of the kata that I was performing, and I do practice on mats periodically. I didn’t feel particularly rattled by having to enter the ring in a different manner, so I don’t think I can blame it on that. General nervousness? I dunno – I’ve been to so many tournaments and belt tests that I’m not sure it bothers me anymore… Fatigue? After getting up ridiculously early and driving for three hours, I admit I was tired… No, I can’t say it was fatigue that made me stumble because my kumite (sparring) was good considering the circumstances and my rank.

Only three of us ladies opted for kumite. I was most definitely the lowest ranked. Still, I made a good showing in the first round against the second-highest ranked lady. I lost 8 to 6. I recently wrote

There are people who enjoy working on cars so much that they will take a car’s engine out, take it apart, clean it, replace everything that’s worn out, and put it back together again. That’s what I want to do with my sparring.

I think I’ve made some progress in that regard, but there’s still more work to do. This tournament, I was in love with the realization that two meters isn’t all that big a distance, so almost every time I came off the line, it was with guns blazing. Of course my opponent eventually figured out how to deal with me and came out on top. If I remember correctly all four corner judges were sensei (instructors, plural) from both College and Home dojos. Yes, feedback was given and bucket-loads of work will commence very soon. I don’t mind. Onward and upward! That said, I got some compliments that I will treasure.

When medals were awarded, I stood by the sidelines cheering until my name was called to receive my third place kumite medal (there were only three of us competing in kumite, LOL). As I stood in line with my fellow competitors, I was a little bit in awe of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with these ladies, all of whom are more highly ranked than I am. I train with two and am acquainted with the others, and I felt very privileged indeed to have competed with them.

After changing out of my sweaty, stinky gi (uniform) I sat in the stands to munch snacks and watch the rest of the tournament. I mostly watched the judging teams working together. Six days prior to the tournament I’d attended my third refereeing seminar, and one thing that was emphasized was the role of the Kansa (Match Supervisor). I watched closely, but I really didn’t see that any given kansa had to do anything. This is a good thing, it means the judging teams were working well together. I enjoyed watching them.

There is one group of competitors that really stood out for me – the beginner/novice men. Three guys – one maybe in his early 20’s, two maybe in their early 30’s. At least one was a daddy. While these three beginner men were practicing right before their division started, I had to resist the urge to go down to them. They didn’t need a senpai (senior student) telling them what to fix, they just needed to get warmed up and steady their nerves for what might have been their first tournament. As I laughed at myself I realized that I wanted these men to succeed. Adult students are precious to a dojo, and these guys had the guts to try something new at a time of life when most men and women start spending less time on physical fitness. I remembered some quote I can’t find now – something along the lines of “be the guy that other people want to see succeed, and you will succeed.” I for one want them to succeed, and something tells me they will. All they knew were their latest kata – one man performed the very first basic kata we learn. They were challenging and stretching themselves. One of my sensei pointed out (privately) to me that I could have challenged myself by performing the latest kata I’ve learned. I immediately thought of those three beginner men. Yes, there are things we can learn from our kohai (students who are lower-ranked than oneself).

OK, sure, I have only one third-place medal given to me because there were only three competitors in my division for kumite. Everyone knows I lost in both kata and kumite. But I gained a lot. As I jotted notes down and started the draft of this blog post, I realized that I am starting to learn more from each tournament. The days before and the days after a tournament are a part of the experience too, and those days influence future development. I also learned I am more capable than I thought even though I still have a lot of things to learn and improve on. Last but not least, I learned that our kohai can be good examples for us.

I am feeling less intimidated about testing for my next belt. No, I don’t know when I’m testing – I will test when my Dojo Sensei says I’m ready. This next test will be significantly harder than any belt test I have previously taken, but this tournament has shown me that I am making progress. It was a yardstick for me to measure myself with, and I am satisfied with the results. Now – back to the dojo. Back to sweat, back to hard work, and back to sore muscles. I have lots of things to work on!

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