Well, I passed(!)

I went early today and made up everything I’d missed last night and the night before. I was still definitely sick and under recovery, but I had to go, so I went.

It took a lot out of me just to hold up my hands, let alone do the self-defense techniques, and multiple times in a row. We usually yell on the last strike, and it felt really odd not doing that today (saving my throat from torture, you see, and helping me to keep breathing as a whole – even a deep breath would send me into a fit of intense and slightly scary coughing).

After that, people started showing up for the fight night. We each sparred 16 people for 90 seconds on ongoing sparring each. The ongoing part means that we have no break during those 90 seconds – the clock doesn’t stop, and neither do we.

It was tough, especially being so short of breath and low on energy to start the whole thing. But I made it through, and decently well. I even received several call-outs on having done a great job sparring, which was quite unique and cool. I don’t typically have a bunch of people watching me spar… nor do I have them watching me spar for 16 rounds…

For our last round of 90 seconds, when we are at our end of energy and have our last effort to give, we are meant to spar the person who has been the most influential for us in our karate career. Now, that can be interpreted in various ways, though most people choose their main instructor for this last match. Not all, but most.

When I thought about this, I wasn’t sure whom to request. It went weeks without my knowing what to say or do about it. Eventually, when we were discussing my predicament, my instructor asked whom I wanted for that match, “If you could have anyone, who[m] would you pick?”

Instantly, I knew. “Sam C—,” I said. She smiled sadly, and understood why I had had so much trouble. The most influential person on my karate career had been my original instructor, when I was in the junior division. His classes were the whole reason I returned to the organization years later as an adult, as opposed to going to some other form of self-defense or fighting training.

He also passed away a handful of years ago, and I had only learned of this fact when I re-started karate a few years back.

My current instructor had only joined the organization after his death, and had not known him personally, though she had, apparently, learned much of him. He was a spectacular teacher and coach. And he was terrifying, in a sense – you were going to do as he said, and without hesitation – yet it was clear that he loved and cared about his students. I never consciously thought, He loves me, or anything like that. But, if I had been asked, I would have been able to say with full confidence that he loved me. The best teachers usually do love their students – that’s a big part of why they are such good teachers. They truly are here and teaching for us, and for our success.

Anyway, all that to say it really didn’t work to have the person I truly wanted for my final fight.

So, I thought again. Who else had been in similar standing with Mr. C— for me in karate? Well, that answer was clear, too, once I asked the question: my mom.

She’s the whole reason I started as a kid, and her having become a brown belt was the main reason I had ever wanted to become one. Granted, I had now surpassed her rank of brown belt, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that it was all through her that any of this was possible and actually happened in my life.

After weeks of allowing her space to ‘think about it,’ she finally agreed fully this morning. I had had a feeling that she would do it in the end, though she had declined my original invitation to join just as one of the 16 over a month ago. She understood why I was asking her now, as well as the importance and significance of it. And she also appreciated that I would be exhausted by the end of all the sparring, and so necessarily would ‘go easy’ on her. That definitely helped. And the fact that I’m recovering from a sinus infection, and so literally couldn’t breathe as well or move as well as usual. So, she messaged this morning for details about tonight, and I was ecstatic and grateful. She even had to borrow sparring gear for her hands, head, and shins, because I had commandeered her head and hand gear for myself a couple years back – naturally, my child-sized gear didn’t work so well for me anymore. But my foot gear and shin guards did. (I guess she missed her shin guards when she was looking.) But she borrowed the gear and pulled out her old uniform and t-shirt and all, and she showed up.

As soon as we started our match, I instantly began to cry with emotion, of course. Should have seen that one coming, I know, but I hadn’t. Haha

Our match was actually quite fun and a real match, which made it all the better. It was a great closer for the evening and the week and the whole candidacy season.

Afterward, we all retired our brown belts, and we were all granted our black-belts-in-waiting belts, which are brown belts with a black stripe through their length. Everyone else had their main teacher/parent – because multiples have parents who are black belts and teachers – accept the brown belt, hold it up, and pull it taught into its final tie/knot, officially retiring the belt. My mom got to do mine. She had already taken off her top and her belt, so no one likely even noticed that she wasn’t a black belt. We both thought it was silly that she was ‘sneaking in’, but it was also really cool. And it was perfect that she’d taken off her top and belt already, and was just in the old black shirt for our school under Mr. C—. It was perfecto.

Then we were given our eight-day belts, and it was sobs all over the place. Our main instructor started it, just to be clear. Haha

Okay, I must sleep now. So, final thing: Our final scores were calculated before the sparring began, and announced at the end of the sparring. The scores were based on our physical fitness tests, our kata performance, our self-defense skills, and our written test on history and rules of judging and sparring and teaching. The total was several hundred points all together. She announced our grades a percentages. And mine was the highest, with 98%. That was quite cool.

Also, my mom and my man came tonight and watched me the whole time. That was awesome, too. I am very grateful that both made it.

Thank you, God, for this blessing and this success I have had. Please, continue to heal me, and heal my body rapidly, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Weeping Wednesday?

I cried at least three times at work today, because of work. Talk about being overwhelmed, and you’re talking about me today. But I managed to let it out as it came up, and then get down to business again and again throughout the day. I spoke a couple times with the teacher for whom I am teaching the first quarter – she’s on maternity leave – and what she had to share with me helped immensely with my stress. I now know somewhat decently what specifically is expected of me regarding content and presentation for class, and I have my next steps clearly in place for tomorrow (and the future classes as a whole). There is much for me to learn regarding the subject matter – Sacred Scripture and Catholicism – and I want to learn it all. But it will take time. And I have a clear plan as to how to do that now. Phew.

I want to do a good job here, as with everything I do. That’s why I’m stressed – because I care so much. But I definitely sat under the desk and cried hard at one point near midday today. So, today was a lot in a lot of ways. I wonder if tomorrow will be quite so emotional…

Dear God, grant me the grace and perseverance to do the amazing job I know you have called me to do here. Help me to fulfill your will fully and wholeheartedly. And help me to see clearly where you want me and need me to go. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

Alas, Mass

Tonight, I attended Mass with one of my best friends. I forget how much we have in common when we are apart. But then we find ourselves talking after Mass, discovering that we both cried at this Mass we had both wanted and needed, and, oh, right, we both use celsius temperatures, and we both blah, blah, blah… it’s really cool. I am extremely grateful that we get to live together again, come February. I am also extremely grateful that we have Church together. It is becoming a thing for her to join me for Mass, and, judging by this evening’s service, I think it most certainly will continue and will pick up immensely in frequency. And I think we both are grateful for that.

Thank you, God and Universe. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

(Oops… almost got it wrong again)

Loving boys

I told the boys in last period today, before class started, that I was exhausted and that I was rather borderline in tears, and requested that, therefore, they aim, please, to be a bit more gentle in class today, be kind, help me out. They seemed stunned, and some even openly asked what was up for me. I just told them that there were just a lot of things with which I am having to deal at present, both in- and outside of school, and I’m exhausted.

And, though they are very young and forgetful and ridiculous and lacking in self-control, they actually did a very decent job today. Several of the boys helped keep others in check, such that I didn’t have to tell them each to hush so often as usual. It was still tough, but much improved from usual, and their genuine sweetness shone through. It made me love them even more… which made me want to cry for a whole ‘nother reason! 😛

Post-a-day 2021

Friday night

Girl, I just threw up.
I then showered and am rushing to cozy up in warm stuff, because it seems to be making me feel better right now.
Vomiting is one of the worst things I have ever experienced in life. It is always nearly traumatic for me.
Omg r u okay ??
I think so. It just seemed to be the little bit of food I had after work…
And a boatload of air…
Weirdest version ever, but I’m glad it seems to be done.
I was crying so much…
It always crushes me on so many levels.
Like the world is coming to an end, and nobody loves me, and a drunk person just spilled some sticky, unidentifiable red cocktail all over me and my favorite vintage ivory dress, and didn’t even notice, and it doesn’t even matter, because the world is ending, but I can’t stop crying about it the most, somehow…
That’s my average experience whenever I throw up. 😂
And now, I simultaneously never want to eat again, and want some chicken soup…
What a night…
Post-a-day 2021

Healing

Someone said something very hurtful to me on Monday. This is someone who is very dear to me. I have been dealing physically with an inner virus the past couple weeks, so I have been exhausted and unable to sleep well; workouts have been annoyingly difficult, due to the fatigue; I almost sent myself to the ER the other weekend, for fear of what was happening inside my body one morning. Put simply, it has been a tough and rough couple or few weeks for me physically, and then emotionally due to the physical strains and struggles. When this person made the comment on Monday, I just couldn’t take it. I simply started crying and got up and went home. The next morning, when I mentally didn’t want to go to the gym, because I wasn’t ready emotionally to deal with that interaction, I found that it didn’t matter: I couldn’t walk, and so certainly couldn’t go to the gym.

By Thursday morning, I could walk with almost no twinges of pain at all, and so went for a run. It felt really, really good. By Thursday evening, however, my legs were starting to hurt, and not just in a sore muscle way. They were hurting in a twisted muscle sort of way. I have rubbed them intentionally and often since then, and they are doing quite well now, with only some tightness and discomfort in the right leg and hip remaining at present. But that meant that I did not go to the gym Friday either. I considered not going today, actually, but I had agreed that I would make up the pull-up cycle stuff I had missed Tuesday, and today was the only option for that. So, the plan was always to go today, no matter what.

And so, I went today for the weightlifting workout, and traded out certain parts for the specific pull-up cycle work from earlier in the week. By the end, my leg was feeling a touch better, which was a positive sign. But the knee and hip and thigh are totally still iffy, to say the least. (Essentially, it sometimes feels like my top and bottom halves of my leg aren’t connected anymore, and my knee will give out suddenly, as though my lower leg is breaking…, even though it isn’t. That’s just how it feels, somehow, and so walking gets really shaky, as well as standing up or squatting down or doing stairs up or down. My knee just sometimes gives out, and usually in an odd direction.)

Anyway, I got fully clear before going to the gym about where I stood and what I needed to say to be complete around what the person had said to me. Once I had started working, I was kind of on my own to the side of the gym – there were only a few of us in this particular class, but loads of people had been on the previous class, this person included. This person came over to me before leaving, and asked me about my not having given a greeting. (I hadn’t intentionally avoided it, but I also hadn’t sought it out.) I shared what I needed to share – how I don’t share much detail about my physical struggles, and so he couldn’t have known, but how his comment, which was joking yet quite judgmental, hit me very hard and painfully, especially since he is someone important to me and whom I trust, and that, because of my fatigue and exhaustion, I hadn’t been able to deal with it emotionally until now.

The whole interaction was really great. I cried almost immediately, yet still was doing my exercise. He caught himself about to give a BS non-apology, said that, and then said that he truly wants to apologize, and then did apologize. He also requested that I tell him if and when he is being an a**hole. I laughed, and told him that it very much had been a total a**hole of a comment and was definitely judgmental. We both laughed. I reminded him that I love him and am grateful to have him in my life, and not to make fun of my physical body problems, but he can definitely tease me about my phone (It’s smaller than most these days.).

I was extremely satisfied with the interaction, and had a bonus follow-up message from him later on the day, which boosted my tired spirits when I was at work in the late afternoon and early evening.

I’m still not at full energy – or much anywhere near it, really -, but I am doing much better now, in large part due to my rest this week physically. But that rest helped me deal with my emotional struggles, which then helps somewhat further physically. (It all really is connected.) I am grateful to be healing, and in all ways, albeit somewhat slowly. But I can feel and see the healing happening, and I am relieved and grateful.

Thank you, God and Cosmos.

Post-a-day 2021

Making music

I started writing another song last night. It was initially to help me organize and express some thoughts around the work situation within my life so far – how it isn’t exactly consistent in terms of title or finances, but it is always part of being my true self and being committed to making a positive difference in this world. But an unexpected line showed up right at the end of the session last night, and it was clearly part of the chorus. It was a line about listening to the angels around me. And it made sense, but seemed almost out of place for the content so far in the song…

Until today, that is. Today, for whatever reason, a deeper fullness arose for the song. My mom and I discussed the situation with my Opa, how he is dying, and how he might finish that process in the very near future. It is an uncomfortable thought, itself, but we both are ready to allow what needs to happen next in the situation. At least, as ready as we know how to be…

However, after she and I discussed their things for a while, and then got off the phone, I started working on the song again, as I had just begun before our phone call (I think I had, anyway). As I got reacquainted with what I’d written so far, I started feeling what ideas needed to come next. I was reminded of the encouragement my Opa had given me one day, and felt immediately that it was perfect to use for the song, as it expressed what I was wanting to express… and then the idea fleshed out a bit…, and, without realizing it, the song had a deeper meaning.

Not only am I listening to the angels around me, having them call me forward in life, but a new one has just joined them, and he has given me further encouragement to follow this path I am forging in my life. Every time I sang that part of the song, I could barely get words out by the middle of the verse, and had to stop altogether for the tears and emotion that arose. And I think the words communicate beautifully in the song, even without someone’s knowing the whole situation.

Anyway, I look forward to finishing that song, but, boy, is it going to be a tough one, emotionally speaking.

Post-a-day 2021

Volun-cheering

Today was awesome, yet stressful, but both in very good ways.

First, I had an awesome time volunteering with my gym at sunrise for the Bayou City Tri Series 2021 Sylvan Beach Paralympic Triathlon. We had the honor of physically and verbally assisting paratriathletes in their transitions, as they worked toward earning points to be part of Team USA. I think we all look forward to the next such opportunity – it was a blessing and a blast for us all. ❤🤗🙏 💪👊🏻

And it brought me to tears multiple times, it was such an honor to be a part of it all.

It also brought back memories of my many sports volunteering days, and had me wondering yet again if I don’t want to find actual work in that world, somehow… There was a lot that, unfortunately, had not been sorted out properly for the event as a whole – there were other races happening this morning, too. Our little crew took it upon ourselves just to go ahead and handle many of those things, making a tremendous difference for all athletes that were out there racing today. And I enjoyed doing even that stuff.

From there, after the sun was well over the horizon but not all that far up, I headed to a karate tournament that was nearby. It was my first one in roughly 18 years, and my first one ever in the adult division. I was absolutely nervous, but I had all day to get even more so, since my division wasn’t until mid-afternoon. But I had volunteered to take photos, and so I got to enjoy working with that throughout all the kids’ sparring all morning and midday.

I did take a good couple minutes at one point in a private room with myself to talk and make noise and jump and move, fully on my own. And I did give myself close to a minute to go ahead and experience all the pent-up emotion that had been building all day, just a short while before my category was going to be up. (Aka I cried brief tears of stress and anxiety, and let a lot go with them as they lightly tripped out of my eyes.)

I had someone record my match for me, and he did so well enough. It turns out that I actually did better than I had thought I’d done at the actual time of the match. After watching the matches of the adults at the end, the highest ranked individuals, I have been able to see styles of everyone, and how much comfort makes a difference in a match. When someone is comfortable, he or she almost always does very well. When someone is uncomfortable, he or she usually does not very well. That isn’t to say win versus lose – I mean doing well, sparring well, technique-ing well (both attack and defense). Yes, that usually also results in winning, if those are all done well. But it isn’t about winning to me these days, so much as it is about doing well. Winning when doing well, however, just adds to the fun and joy of it all.

I have some specifics on which I want to work – reacting with a point-earning move to being blocked, practicing different point-earning trio combinations, and backward spinning kicks (one would have created a beautiful point today, but I had neither confidence nor comfort in it, so didn’t even consider it – only the video afterward showed me the opportunity [I’d spun and everything, but didn’t even try to hit her with the foot]). Now, just to find the partner to work with me, and the place to do it.

Oh, and this was one of the very few times that I 1)didn’t lose a match at a tournament, and 2)didn’t cry after the match. Good start in my eyes, even just for those two facts! ;P

So, yeah… today was a really great-for-me day, all of its stresses included.

Post-a-day 2021

Ouch…

But seriously, who invented all the nonsense that goes alongside menstruation? Utter nonsense… ::facepalm

Anyway, this weekend, I saw the wife of someone I know. Though I had seen the husband many, many times, I had not seen the wife until this Saturday.

When I first saw her, it took a few moments to process fully what I was seeing. Then it took another few moments to allow for my initial reactions. And another few to crave indulging in them. And a final few to allow them just to be, and then, therefore, to release. Rather than being upset by what I saw, I knew I could have it be a positive experience – even if it took some effort.

“Body goals,” I told myself, letting it fall heavily from my lips, the initial sigh thereby dispersed. Music was playing loudly at the gym, so I had no overhearing ears. I really only could feel the words vibrate through my body, as it wasn’t loud enough for my own ears to hear over the music.

But I felt it… and in more ways than one.

After that, I kept going back and forth between awe at how amazing she was physically, and wanting to break down crying at how far away I am from that right now.

I knew pitying myself was neither necessary nor valuable, so I always let that one go. But that didn’t stop it from co to hint to pop up at intervals throughout the whole day afterward, and even the following day somewhat.

As a friend reminded me later, the wife probably wasn’t like that when they got married, and it probably took her years to get to that point. Same for the husband. (Though, he was always less intimidating or whatever, because he’s male, I suppose.) It wasn’t an overnight process for either of them, and they probably weren’t already like that when they first met one another or even got married.

That idea gives me hope… that I can find someone who is fit beautifully already and who values my own work thus far, but who will continue to grow with me and thereby support and empower me o to further-enhanced fitness throughout our future. I would continue this same road, but no longer on my own. I’d have a true partner in crime for it all. (So to speak, that is… haha)

Anyway,… there’s that ouch and the menstruation and resulting digestion ouch, and the utter exhaustion that they and all the other stress have brought for this evening.

Alas, I shall now go sleep… with an alarm every two-ish hours, of course, to use the bathroom. ::facepalm I swear…, whoever made up this nonsense must have been severely out of his wits at the time… Man

Post-a-day 2021

Back on the log*

I stayed in bed – with possibly six bathroom breaks (number one only) – from 7:45pm to about 6:45am this morning. My sleep was fitful. I did my feel entirely rested when I got up. However, my bowels functioned somewhat normally, and without any pains, and that was a total win.

I still felt slow, my lower belly and lower right edge were still uncomfortable (but not in pain), and I was somehow a bit clumsy, but I felt significantly improved overall. It still took effort to talk, but a whole lot more came out, whenever I did attempt speaking, and much sooner than it had taken every time yesterday. My mom noticed that part immediately when we finally spoke later in the morning.

I wasn’t sure how the day would progress, and was worried I might have to be home and, possibly, in bed most of the day. By nine o’clock, I had determined that I likely would go in to work. It was only for three hours today, and the prospect of being at home all alone, especially with the discomfort and all, was not a delightful one. So, I took a fitful nap, after eating some, and then got up and went in. I was slow-moving still, with a light sensation of my guts being as of yet undetermined as to when they might escape my body and in which direction they might choose to do that escape.

I adjusted after a little while to being able to talk to people quite normally, and eventually was at almost full normalcy on that front. I was able to walk around a bit faster near the end, and even jogged back inside, when I discovered that I’d left my smoothie near-dregs in the fridge. That surprised me, even.

I did my grocery shopping, and headed home to change. Since late morning, I had been messaging a buddy from the gym about running together this afternoon/evening. He hadn’t replied to my inquiry yesterday (about running today), and I knew he probably had been out drinking.

Turns out that he had arrived home around 3:30am last night/this morning. I told him that 13+ hours was plenty of recovery time, and that, though he claimed he felt like he was dying, I had almost ended up in Urgent Care, and so he and I could die together – it would be better to die in good company than all alone, after all.

He allowed that we could make it work, assuming he didn’t feel quite so terrible by the evening. We agreed that we would be in touch after I finished grocery shopping in the afternoon.

By the time, however, that he responded to my messages in the afternoon, he told me that he was out drinking… right then. Can we get a facepalm, please?? ;P

I considered running to the bar to meet him, partly for getting back at him for leaving me hanging, and partly for my desire not to be left alone with whatever was going on in my belly. It was gorgeous outside, and I knew it was an outdoor patio kind of place, only a 5k from my house. However, he was actually doing some one-on-one time with a friend from out of town, and so I did not do that.

(Okay, but when was he planning to run with me, if he had the friend in all weekend, anyway?? Either he’s a sneaky liar or wasn’t thinking, I dare say.)

And so, I went running in my own. What had intended to be a short little run, maybe two miles at most (plus a .05 as stretch beyond the goal), and at a slower, we-are-ill pace, turned out to be a full-on ladder run – with the 10lb vest, recall – that ended up being the third-fastest 5k I have ever done. Period. That means without any weighted vest for those fastest times. And I did my third-fastest with a 10lb vest on me, wondering the whole time if I might hurl or just sh** my pants at any given moment.

That is some other-world Goggins stuff right there.* Nearly end up in a hospital in the morning, have a panic attack, work out late morning, nearly fall apart trying to work in the afternoon, so go home and get ready for bed at 4:45pm. Sleep forever, wake up still sick, go to work again anyway, and then do one of the hardest and most successful runs of my life, considering if and when I might need to crap or vomit on the side of the road somewhere. (I actually did come very close to vomiting right after I set out!)

So, yeah… what a day…

*If you don’t get the references, read David Goggins’s book, Can’t Hurt Me.

Post-a-day 2021