Fight of the Valkyrie

So I rock up to grade today, even though I graded last month. Carmela bent the rules for me, for which I am grateful. As I was warming up and stretching, I felt a little anxious because my legs were suffering from pangs of unexplainable pain whenever I moved them, at all. So I figure, Damn, must need more time to warm up. So I stretched until I was feeling all right and the grading began.

First up, Taeguk (pattern) 5, scored the magical number of 69. Taeguk 6 was the same, but Taeguk 7… I did the first four moves and froze, unable to remember what came next. Strike one.

Second up, kicks, which I’m fairly good at.
"One." Push-kick, axe kick, turning kick. No problem. I go for the first one, and BAM. Felt something in my leg stretch beyond the point of no return. I followed up with the next two kicks anyway.
"Two." Push kick, axe kick, turning kick. God that hurts, just ignore it, it’ll be over soon.
"Three." Felt it get worse. To borrow a phrase from a website somewhere, ‘It felt like someone was stabbing my hamstring with rusty daggers of fire.’
"Four." My left hamstring suddenly burned with heat and my first thought (as a human biology student) was, "Heat = blood. Damn, must’ve ripped the muscle. I hope it isn’t staining my uniform. If it is, Carmela will let me know."

So I continued on for about 20 more kicks of all different kinds. My height, balance and power suffered as a result, but I didn’t do too badly overall with an above-average score of 68.

Board-breaking: my old nemesis. Mr Red Board was feeling all cocky and stuff, so I thought I’d teach him a lesson with my buddy Mr Side Kick. I didn’t break the board. That said, my other very good friend, Mr Back Kick sure showed him.

All in all, I passed "adequately". Which is one above pass, and one below honours. Don’t think I deserved it, but I’m grateful. Probably won’t be training for a while, which is as good as any an excuse to start studying for TEE now that Taekwondo’s out of the picture. Hope my leg doesn’t fall off or anything, cheerio.

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So here I am. It’s 2355hrs, I just came home from Speech Night, and I don’t feel like sleeping. This entry probably isn’t going anywhere, and given my current state of mind it might be better not to bother. Nonetheless, starved for any kind of update, I’ll just write for a little while and see what becomes of it.

My hands seem somewhat disconnected from my body. My typing is slow, even, paced. My hands barely move, my fingers just shift to hit the keys. I can’t remember how long ago I started touch typing.

There’s a moth throwing itself at the light globe. It just won’t stop. I turn off the light. It rests, apparently quite contentedly, on the warm globe while I bask in the healthy white glow of my monitor.

Speech night was incredible for the first, and last time of my life. It actually meant something to me tonight. And when the prefects were announced, I was… the words, "We now hand it over to you and your team of prefects to lead the school"… That was strange for me. At that moment, I realised that we were no longer the important ones- our future was beyond the college and someone else had to step up to take our places. The prefects of 2008 are a fine bunch, and I see in Josh (Head Boy 08) what I saw in Nick Barbas (HB 07), and I do not doubt he will lead a strong year group to some triumphant glory.

Tomorrow, excuse me, today, is the last day of school. That’s an interesting thought. Five years of the place, I’ve hated and loved it alternately. Stupid emotions. Mostly hated though, so I can’t say I’ll miss the place. There are a handful of students that I will wonder about, but the rest of them are beyond my empathy- at least for now. I hope they all have good lives and stuff. Tomorrow, excuse me, today, should be spent doing something special. A bang to finish off the year- and the previous four. But I just don’t know what. I don’t really care much, but to finish with a bang is what John Watson always loved. Yeah, one last show for Watto.

I’m ruining lives. Is that true? Yes, and no. I do good things, but I do wicked things also. I can be such a bastard. For instance, Mum hugged me good night and told me that she loved me. I responded, "Do you? Thank you" and continued to watch my little flash movie on newgrounds about somebody being blown to pieces by an angry blonde chick. Didn’t even look at her. Didn’t get out of the car, either, and when I did, it was to look at the full moon pierce the silver clouds. There’s an orange glow on the horizon which is strange, but not unpleasant. I’m so mopey, so emotional. Stupid emotions. I don’t need you anyway. Go star trek, or whatever.

I can never hurt someone. I learn Taekwondo, but I can never apply it with the intent of hurting someone. I cannot imagine a scenario where I would consider it justified to hit a person. If they beat the shit out of, say, Mum, then… I’d call police and stand around to protect her. And should someone try and attack Mum while I’m protecting her, I’ll keep them away as best I can without actually fighting. At least, I say that now, but whose to say I won’t be swept with passionate rage and try and kill the assailant? Once again, it is emotion that foils me.

I’m so hungry. But I can’t eat, because you don’t sleep well on a full stomach. And sleep is important, especially as I’m depriving myself of it. Yes, I’m hungry.

Nick and Joe got very into fighting me today. I humoured them because it was something more structured, something I’m used to, where good technique can be applied with varying degrees of effect. In other words, I could control exactly how much I hurt them. Wrist locks and arm bars and stuff- lots of fun. I applied like four different ones to Joe, and it was recorded on a phone or two. I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed that, but I keep replaying it in my head. He steps forward and shoves me with both hands. I step back and deflect his arms. He steps again, and again, and finally I grab his arm and try and put a lock on. He waits patiently until I get it, and then suddenly he drops to his knees with the suddenness of the pain. I change the lock into an armbar and bring him to the floor. I change it back to a hyperextension, then I change it again and again… The movie starts again. He steps forward and shoves. I step back. He advances and I knee him, spin around behind and bring his legs out from under him with a clean sweep and a throat strike. I blah blah blah. Such a violent child, imagining and re-imagining all the ways I could have done it. And yet, I never would. All those knees, elbows, kicks, ridgehands, probably punches and stuff… I’d never really use them, no matter how good I am. And yet, I have the confidence that I could beat any and all of them, certainly one on one if not… neermind. no one cares, least of all me.

I lost my phone today, by the way. My phone is by far my most treasured possession. It’s saved my life more than once, by being someone to talk to when there was no one who cared. And I lost it. I couldn’t contact my parents so I walked home- heh. A few phone calls later, I checked if anyone knew where my phone was- if the Concert Hall cleaners had found it or something. Nope. Damn. Called Telstra, barred my simcard from use. They offered me a new phone, for free. Sure, why not. Cool. Still, my old phone was priceless, and would never be replaced. A few hours later, Reuben Joseph said someone found it, and I later learned it was passed to Doc, who passed it to Tobes, who answered it when Eugene called. Thus it was returned to me, and all is well in the kingdom once again.

Wow. What a waste of 37 minutes. I hope you didn’t spend that long reading this. Cheerio then.

PS. Crawled into a cupboard at school yesterday. There was just enough room to stand, or to sit if I hugged my knees. I was going to hide there from recess till some time during the next period, then casually walk out in the middle of someone’s class. What would they do, expel me? Seemed like a good idea at the time, but when I tried, I realised that I really couldn’t be bothered so I got out. Turned around and looked down, there was a spider an inch big sitting in the corner with me. Damn, that sucked.

Competition class

On the 21st of October (2007), there’s a tournament coming up for novices. That is, people who haven’t been in tournaments before. There are two divisions- sparring and poomsae (patterns). When it was announced about a month ago, I decided I would give it a miss because of TEE and all that nonsense (:P), but because Mum (against my intentions) signed me up for the Gold Plus membership, I decided to go for it and cram into three weeks what everyone else will cram into seven. I’m going to enter both the sparring and the patterns. If by any chance any of you want to watch (I’m really not expecting much of a response here), let me know and I’ll get you the details.

Oh Do Kwan holds two classes a week that train students for competitions. Nervously, I rocked up to my first one tonight. After a quick warmup, we strapped on chestguards and helmets and partnered off. Wouldn’t you know it, I got Jason. Jason is the first person I ever met in Oh Do Kwan- being a whitebelt, he was assigned to correct my technique for the first few lessons. Jason’s one of the best tournament fighters in the club, so it was an honour to have him show us (a yellowbelt who had also joined that day) what to do. We basically practiced body kicks against one another, full speed, full power hoping the guards would absorb the shock. Even with the chestguards, let me tell you: getting kicked by a blackbelt bloody hurts. I actually learned a few things, and the style of fighting was a little different. The kicks and sequences taught were designed to train explosive speed, and although my technique’s still shite, I’m getting there.

At the end of class, we all sat down huffing and puffing on the side of the dojan. Two people were called up, and I realised to my delight that they were going to spar. Sabomnim (instructor) Graham called everyone up, including me! And who was I pitted against? Jason. Novice vs pro. That, my friends, was one of the defining moments of my life. Surprisingly, I actually managed to land a few hits, but I suspect he was taking it easy because I’d never done it before. Nevertheless, it really does feel satisfying aiming to kick someone and landing a solid blow. The sound, the thwhack as your foot hits the guard… Something special, let me tell you.

After being kicked by Jason for the better part of an hour, I was actually in some pain. I was a little bit worried, but eventually it went away by itself about 15 minutes later. Or maybe I just imagined it was there, because as soon as I started concentrating on kicking, it ceased to hurt. Regardless, being the fool I am, I went to the next class for regular training. Sure, the competition class drained the majority of my chakra and left me a little shaky, and sure Jason said it was a bad idea to train too much, and sure there came a point when my legs hurt too much to kick, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m extraordinarily sore right now, so methinks I’ll be concentrating on, you know, exams and stuff until the Friday competition class.

*yawn* Not too sure why I wrote this entry. Prolly cause it would have taken too long by hand. Night then.

My Hero

Ellie Linton. Chances are, you’ll be remembered forever. Welcome to the small and insignificant speck of data you have joined by my mentioning your name. Years from now I’m sure you’ll be found here on google.