kirabug’s idea files

Sparred yesterday. Sore today. All good things.

Yesterday I learned that music is your friend. If there’s loud music playing, watch your opponent, and at some point he or she will start reacting to the beat of the music, and that makes predicting their movement a heck of a lot easier. This could be handy in a bar.

The corollary for most people is “don’t fight during music”. As for me…

Had my first martial arts class since – ohIdunno – August, maybe earlier, tonight. To tell you the story of that, I have to tell you a different story first.

Why you always read your mail from the pharmacy

I mentioned in the last post that I’ve been kind of checked-out for a while, and there are a lot of reasons for that. One is a very slow slide into depression that started probably last summer. It was one of those insidious unnoticeable deals where I didn’t realize I was depressed until I also realized I was eating maybe once a day, stopped listening to music, stopped calling friends….

So, angst, stress, depression, coupled with the pressure I put on myself to do something about the angst, stress, and depression. And I thought I’d had all the crazy under control, so add on the angst, stress and depression of feeling like I’d lost control of the crazy. At some point, I started to get nightly heartburn from the stress and it was the general all around miserable feeling that finally drove me to see a counselor.

The day after I finally saw a counselor, I got an email from our pharmacy. Now, keep in mind that the pharmacy doesn’t know about the counselor, but they do know that I’m already on prozac. Their email said, in short “Hey, that exercise-induced asthma drug you started last summer? You might want to know it causes…

Cough; dizziness; headache; indigestion; nausea; stomach upset or pain; stuffy nose; tiredness; trouble sleeping; weakness. Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, or tongue); aggressive behavior; agitation; dark urine; fever; flu-like symptoms; hallucinations; irregular heartbeat; mental or mood changes; new or worsening wheezing or other breathing problems; numbness or tingling of hands or feet; seizures; severe or persistent stomach pain; severe sinus inflammation; suicidal thoughts or actions; swelling; unusual bruising or bleeding; upper respiratory tract infection; yellowing of the skin or eyes.

Hmmm, stomach upset, nausea, agitation, mental or mood changes…. boy, that sounds familiar. Would have loved to know that THREE MONTHS AGO. Might’ve saved me a trip to a counselor….

So, off I went to the doctor, who immediately pulled me from the asthma drug and bumped my dose of prozac from “infinitesimal” to “tiny”. And what do you know? The heartburn is gone. A big portion (but not all) of the anxiety and depression are gone. The appetite is back. The clouds are gone. Life is great!

….And the asthma’s back.

Don’t know what you’ve lost ’till it’s back

I didn’t leave Tang Soo Do because of the depression. I left because Nighthawk was hospitalized and after that we had a bit of getting our lives back in order to take care of. But for almost 6 months I did nothing involving Tang Soo Do. I didn’t study my Korean terminology. I didn’t study my one-steps or forms. I didn’t stretch. I didn’t even do side kicks to loosen my back up.

On the other hand, I did wear my MBTs every day and I’ve been walking the dogs to various degrees every single day.

Today I learned..

• I’ve lost some speed, and some power in my kicks.
• I’ve lost what little technical finesse I had. I look like a flailing loon.
• I’ve lost the callouses on my feet. My big toes both blistered, popped, and blistered again this afternoon. Ow!
• I’ve lost my confidence that I know my stuff, even though it looks like I’ve retained more of my forms and one-steps than I thought I knew in the first place.
• I’ve gained some balance, and some (but not a lot) of core strength, thanks (I think) to the shoes.
• And I’ve regained the asthma.

There’s nothing so delightful as being out of breath for the first full 20 minutes of an hour-long class. It’s so incredibly hard to concentrate on having good form in your kicks when your brain stem is screaming AIR GODDAMMIT WHERE’S THE AIR?

And I do martial arts in part to learn self-defense. Something tells me that if I ever am mugged, I won’t be able to stop the mugger and say, “Hey, can you wait 10 minutes while I hit my inhaler and then we can try this mugging again so I can kick your ass?”

So, Monday, I’m back to the doctor. The goal is an asthma drug that doesn’t come with a side order of crazy. Wish me luck.

Least I Could Do: the Webcomic » Comic Archive » September 27th, 2009 .

Cracks me up.

So. Sewing.

When I joined Tang Soo Do, I was issued a uniform, and because I am obese (as the squeaky voice on the Wii Fit likes to announce to the world every time I use it) and Tang Soo Do uniforms aren’t sized for chicks shaped like fireplugs, I needed to significantly hem that uniform.

Being a white belt of unsurpassing optimism, I promptly bought a sewing machine.

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve sewn before – enough when I was in my teens to decently hem a pair of pants or fix a cuff or patch a knee or any of the other things someone at 5′2″ tall and klutzy would likely need to do. I know how to use the iron to press the seams, turn a corner by keeping the needle in the fabric, and sew in a straight line.

Or, at least, I did.

The hemming of my white belt uniform could definitely have gone smoother, but I figured hey, I’m a beginner, and I’ll re-learn how to sew while I learn all this awesome martial arts stuff.

As a green belt, I’ve gained just a touch of wisdom. Or rather, I have gained the ability to recognize that I need the ability to recognize a mistake when I’ve made it. The mistake I made tonight was listening to my inner white belt. She said that I’d improve on my sewing by sewing with every uniform upgrade. She said that by the time I’m a black belt, hemming my own uniforms would be a practiced skill.

She LIED.

See, it turns out that hemming uniforms once every year and a half doesn’t make you a seamstress any more than doing a side kick every three months makes you a martial artist.

I started hemming two green-trimmed uniforms at 9:00 tonight, and I just finished 10 minutes ago. 4 hours to hem two pair of pants (badly) and sew on a total of six patches. I didn’t even bother hemming the sleeves after botching the pants and pulling out more seams than I swore I sewed in. My sewing machine is full of demons. Every 15 minutes or so the thread would break or the sewing on the underneath with the bobbin string would just go haywire and I’d end up pulling out stitches. It took me 10 minutes to figure out how to put the bobbin back into the machine after it emptied and I had to refill it — I was holding it backwards. You’d think the phrase was “cursed like a seamstress” not “cursed like a sailor” the way I went about the task.

God bless all those who really can sew, and more importantly, enjoy it. I do not think I will become one of those people in the next two years, or twenty. If I’m going to get eye strain staring at tiny strings, I’d rather do so tying a knot to hold a hook onto my fishing line. There’s more bobber to me than bobbin.

Tonight was a subtle reminder that as a green belt I must learn to recognize those things I cannot do, without sacrificing the unbridled optimism of a white belt to try those things I might be able to do, but have never tried before.

Click to enbiggen.

OK so drinking chocolate milk after a workout instead of Gatorade is something I think I can get behind. And I hate milk, so that’s saying something.

I’m sitting at my computer noshing on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese (white cheddar) mixed with toasted pecans, carrots, parmesan cheese, and a handful of spices. Why? Because that’s what my brain said would taste good… though if it had its way I think it would’ve added a half a cow, medium rare.

Today marks the last class before our next belt tests in Tang Soo Do, and being the idiot I am, I had a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, a Fiber One granola bar, and some trail mix before class. Not as in “right before class”, as in “that’s what I ate today”. Oh, and most of a half gallon of peppermint tea (unsweetened).

Needless to say, that was not sufficient foodstuffs to maintain brain function, let alone a full almost-two-hour workout and I am starving for sugar, meat, and fat.

I’ll be buying and making a much more wholesome meal for Wednesday.

Of course, I don’t know if my efforts will actually net me a promotion… I missed close to three months of class since I made orange belt last summer and I don’t even know if I qualify to test right now. It’s considered disrespectful to ask, so I won’t — plus, I owe it to my fellow orange belts to give it my all during the test so that we work together as one unit, and if I knew I wasn’t testing I might be tempted to slack off.

I have studying to do right now. There’s a written component and I feel woefully stale.