I mentioned earlier that we were taking karate as a family this month.
Our first lesson was brilliant. We learned a bunch of moves and then some self defense moves. The instructor was tough yet polite with the adults, and kind yet serious with the children. We were impressed.
So we practiced what we learned at home and encouraged Anabelle to practice yelling (how often does that happen?).
We all eagerly went to the next class. The instructor looked out at us all and asked who was sore after the first class. One person half rose their hand but the rest of us just smiled and shook our heads, proud that we weren’t sore.
The instructor looked towards the person who half-rose their hand then out at all of us and calmly, cheerfully said, “Well tonight we’re going to fix that.”
He said it so nicely, that my husband smiled, feeling sure he was about to learn some secret ninja moves that would keep him from getting sore while learning martial arts.
What followed was an hour of pushups, crunches, kicks above our head, roundhouse kicks, lunges and punches, followed by minutes of standing in front stances (think a lunge) while learning blocks.
The last five minutes, he had us sit down. Oh, we were so happy to oblige! Then the advanced students came over and showed us their sparring. What a show! The instructor and his wife, also a black belt, even sparred! As we watched, Mike turned to me and smiled. His eyes said, “Oh, yeah, we’re so doing this!”
Then we hobbled out. “Oh, he fixed it,” I said. “I’m already sore.”
Mike sighed. “I didn’t see that coming. I think we were just Mr. Miyagi-ed.”
Although, that hasn’t kept us from blocking each other and practicing our moves each time someone rounds a corner or comes out of the bathroom. Our house is so not boring.
Wish me luck. After two days, I’m finally able to walk downstairs without a whimper.
Class is tonight.