ironymaiden | the end of the beginning

somewhere i lost count. but Saturday was definitely at least 21 kung fu classes.

i lost count because i'm having a great time. i commented to

mimerki that i want to keep at it at least until i get to the butterfly knives. that's years away, and right now i'm fine with that.

i appreciate the way things have cascaded from the class. the lion dance pictures led me into learning more about photoshop and about my camera. to take care of my knees i'm going to the gym regularly, used a trainer. we're talking about going to a hip opening yoga workshop (that i've looked at for years) to make wide stances and kicks easier. i'm getting to know coworker F, who i never would have encountered in my daily routine. i'm reading more about China. i'm standing up straighter. i can run to catch the bus without getting winded.

currently i'm up to "one step" sparring, which is a very controlled contact exercise that teaches distance and timing. (punch-block-punch with step to right, return to center, punch-block-punch with step to left, return to center, repeat many times, change up the block type, change who punches first.) the first time i did it i needed frequent breaks to shake out my legs. most recently we lost track of time before we had to move on to the next part of class.

"fatty necrosis" is my Achilles' heel. (not actual fatty necrosis, thank goodness. that would mean that i had ruptured fat cells in my breasts from impact. classmate M, training-to-be-a-physical-therapist-with-an-interest-in-forensics, knows how to destroy me. if you were to say "fatty necrosis" while sparring with me, i would burst into laughter and fail to block you.)

my waist is two inches smaller than when i started. my hip is larger. hung gar kuen, bringing the Oakland Booty for 3000 years.