You may have wondered about the title of my previous blog post, "Musings of a Ronin". A Ronin, or Wave Man, is a masterless warrior, sourced from the Japanese samurai era, in which a warrior would travel around searching for work, typically as a mercenary, bodyguard or teacher. Of which, I've been all three to a point. My 23andMe genetics test claims I do have an ancestor whom was at least 100% Japanese about 350 years ago. So, hey, maybe I am descended from a Ronin!
Continuing off from last post, the story ended with me recounting my first school, and sitting in a loft watching the noobs learn deadly punches from horse stance. A horse stance is, feet spread apart to about twice one's shoulder's width, then squat like a bear taking a shit.
My next major flash of memory is standing in the bleachers of the school in front stance copying the adults in class. A front stance is a deep forward lunge to deliver strikes. If you've ever done yoga, this is identical to warrior pose. I could never quite do front stance perfect, due to inflexible ankles messing with my form. Which leads me to my next blurry memory: I'm doing pushups, in the bleachers, because the instructor of the class didn't like my front stance. My mother happily recounts this story often. She stated I had to do A LOT of pushups, even though I wasn't a student yet, I was merely spectating! Stupid inflexible ankles!
I have a few more early flashes of memory, then we start getting into full motion video, lessons learned and funny moments. My next memory is seeing the class train in the nearby park, in the grass, with their white karate gi's on. I see green knees and elbows. Apparently they were doing takedowns and the grass was thier mat. I like this. Train in real world turf!
At the same school, I am still about five, maybe even six by now. I'm sitting in the bleachers, it was a demonstration of some sort. Tons of students were on the floor. I remember seeing a black belt, I knew his name at the time, but cannot recall it now. He ran across the room, attempted a jump flying kick and failed to extend his foot in time. He violently smashed, awkwardly, into a stack of boards with his knee. I remember the rush of people around him, and me being worried. This was the first of many martial arts injuries I will witness. This is also the final memory from that school.
Next post teaser, I am about six or seven, and learn my first tactical lesson...from a girl!
Continuing off from last post, the story ended with me recounting my first school, and sitting in a loft watching the noobs learn deadly punches from horse stance. A horse stance is, feet spread apart to about twice one's shoulder's width, then squat like a bear taking a shit.
My next major flash of memory is standing in the bleachers of the school in front stance copying the adults in class. A front stance is a deep forward lunge to deliver strikes. If you've ever done yoga, this is identical to warrior pose. I could never quite do front stance perfect, due to inflexible ankles messing with my form. Which leads me to my next blurry memory: I'm doing pushups, in the bleachers, because the instructor of the class didn't like my front stance. My mother happily recounts this story often. She stated I had to do A LOT of pushups, even though I wasn't a student yet, I was merely spectating! Stupid inflexible ankles!
I have a few more early flashes of memory, then we start getting into full motion video, lessons learned and funny moments. My next memory is seeing the class train in the nearby park, in the grass, with their white karate gi's on. I see green knees and elbows. Apparently they were doing takedowns and the grass was thier mat. I like this. Train in real world turf!
At the same school, I am still about five, maybe even six by now. I'm sitting in the bleachers, it was a demonstration of some sort. Tons of students were on the floor. I remember seeing a black belt, I knew his name at the time, but cannot recall it now. He ran across the room, attempted a jump flying kick and failed to extend his foot in time. He violently smashed, awkwardly, into a stack of boards with his knee. I remember the rush of people around him, and me being worried. This was the first of many martial arts injuries I will witness. This is also the final memory from that school.
Next post teaser, I am about six or seven, and learn my first tactical lesson...from a girl!
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