This morning brought with it some much needed perspective.

I allowed myself to get pretty worked up about testing yesterday. My body ached…aggravated lower back, sore hand, throbbing foot, bruised ego. My emotions were raw.

Testing doesn’t seem so significant today. Failing one test isn’t going to discourage me enough to discontinue training.

I’m not in this for anyone else but me. It is a selfish endeavor. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks of my efforts. Recognition from others is certainly nice and it is definitely motivating. However, it isn’t the most important part of training. What matters most is that I try my hardest and that I know I have given my best.

When my back is about to give out, when my knees are screaming, when every muscle in my body is trembling, no one else’s assessment of the situation matters. If I know I’m giving the best I can at any point, others can scream until they’re blue in the face, it won’t change my physical limitations.

I’m never going to look like a 19-year-old martial artist. My spinning back kick will never be a beautiful thing to see. I’m okay with that. That doesn’t mean I won’t try to make it look better or be stronger.

I also know that I shouldn’t allow myself to feel guilty if I’m unable to schedule my training when it is convenient for others. I’ll go to class when I’m able to, I’ll learn or refine whatever it is we work on in that class, I won’t be guilted in to believing that I’m an undedicated student because I’m not able to make it to a particular class.

As much as I hate to admit it, a good deal of my angst yesterday was rooted in the notion that I had of making it to black belt “on schedule.” Meaning, this time next year I would have been testing for black belt. Yesterday’s test blew that right out of the sky. A black belt would be a nice achievement to reach, but maybe the time frame I set for myself is unrealistic. I’m older than most people training and it takes me longer to learn most things. I have a chronic back problem that limits my ability to stretch and move. I have a young family I want to spend time with and a rigid training program is stressful for all of us.

I’ll train when I can and I’ll learn what I’m able to learn in the time I have.

What a demoralizing day. I went to testing this morning, somewhat optimistic about the day to come. I’ve worked hard the last few weeks to nail down my material. Every free moment I practiced or went over it in my head. I felt prepared.

The only worry is my back. It’s really been bothering me lately. The orthopedic doc put me on an anti-inflammatory, a muscle relaxer and physical therapy. I went to bed last night thinking I probably would take only the anti-inflammatory this morning.

After a night of not sleeping well, it was painfully obvious that I needed to take the muscle relaxer. So I waddled off to testing hoping I could maintain control of crucial muscle groups.

By the time the red belts were called up to test, I had bursts of sharp pain going through my right leg, my right hip was completely numb, and in general I felt like I was moving through quick sand. I'm glad I took the muscle relaxer, all it has done is make me slow. Oh, well.

Kyo Sa Nim took us through basics. He threw a few curve balls at us. Dispite the physical discomfort, I think I executed most things well, the exception being two jumping techniques. I’m old and have a bad back. I should be required to wear a multi-colored wig and red nose when asked to do any move that requires both a turn and a jump. These techniques will never look pretty, they will always look amusing. Overall, I thought I did well on basics. But nope, the red belts were berated for having poor stance.

On to forms. I made a few silly mistakes. Normally, making a mistake starts a chain reaction of bad moves. Today, the tinge of aggravation with myself was there; however, I didn’t let the blunders get the best of me. As we finished forms, I'm feeling pretty good about the test so far. A rude awakening awaits.

When we were called up to do our self-defense moves, the chain reaction of bad ignited. I think I was called out twice for doing moves not quite right. I don't recall hearing anyone else corrected.

After self-defense, we moved on to the much hated sparring. Ever since I let a visiting green belt break my nose, “hate” doesn’t even begin to explain my feelings for sparring. Fear and self-doubt consume me. Today I sparred three different red belts. I have a target on my left shoulder. I got tagged at least eight times in the same place. Thankfully the sparring was concluded before I walked off the mat completely disgusted with myself.

After sparring, red belts are given what seemed like a thirty minute lecture on what a pathetic lot we are. Apparently we don’t care enough, don’t train hard enough or often enough, and we don’t attend the proper classes. Sa Bum Nim proceeds to tell us we have to come back next Saturday to retake the self defense portion of our test. Translation: you failed your test.

So now I’m upset with myself because I’m not able to do things as well as I would like to be able to do them and I’m in excruciating pain. I've already failed my test, but hey, let’s go break some boards anyway!

Four of us have to do three-station breaks. About ten mintues ago, I found out the break should consist of a hand technique, a foot technique, and a jumping foot technique. It gets better, Sa Bum Nim decides we will have to go through two boards at each station. Is this punishment for not doing self-defense to his liking? I kind of thought failing the test was enough.

Ponytail and Lefty go ahead of me. They both nail their breaks.
I decided to do the breaks I did at tournament since I knew I could execute them. Time to learn a lesson in humility.

First break is a palm strike. After four tries I still had not even cracked front board. Everyone in the freakin room has “tips.” Shut up. Sa Bum Nim switches the boards with the one's that were going to be used for my first kick. Finally I break the damn things. The palm of my right hand is purple and swollen.

I turn to do a jumping axe kick. I try three or four times and I can’t go through. Again people around offer “advice.” Really, shut up. I try again and break the top board. I try once or twice and finally break the second board. I think I cracked my heel at some point.

Last move, stepping side kick. Do I even need to write this? I don’t go through on the first attempt. I am so effing mad at myself. Sa Bum Nim tells me to calm down and take my time. He says I need better horse stance. I manage to go through both boards without hurting myself. So much for having done the same breaks at tournament. I am so frustrated I want to punch a wall. I sulk instead.

The red belt kid who has a three station break has no problems. I feel like such an effin loser. A child was able to go through two boards without even blinking an eye. Lefty tries to console me by pointing out that the kid packs a lot more weight than I do. I want to bury my head in a hole.

We line up to bow out. Thank goodness we don’t do the endurance test that usually comes at the end of testing. We do however have the fortune of being reminded that the red belts are terrible, we don’t train hard enough, often enough, or at the proper class. The urge to punch something swells again. Then I remember I just screwed up three breaks.

We’re finally dismissed, I do some more self hating and grab a big broom. I’m sweeping in the direction we normally sweep when cleaning up. A black belt tells me I’m sweeping in the wrong direction. I snap a retort. He gives me a hard look and turns away. Apparently he wasn’t expecting me to say anything other than “yes, sir.” I sulk while sweeping. I don’t make eye-contact with anyone. I finish my sweeping and head to the bathroom to change.

A couple people approach me to make small talk. I don’t do a very good job of saying anything nice. Sa Bum Nim approaches and says something. I say something very hateful. I regret it immediately. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

On the way to our cars. I unload on Lefty. She probably wants to hit me in the mouth, but she refrains. I climb in my car and sulk all the way home.

Why am I training? The goal at one point was simply to get some exercise and learn some self-defense. There’s more to it now but I can't put a name to it. I want to train and I want to improve. That’s all there is.

I think the thing that made today so terrible is that my instructor basically said he is ashamed of the red belts that tested today. And, making it even worse, he said if we can’t train on Tuesday’s at 7 p.m. we won't be taught what we need to learn to improve. I guess this means I’ve peaked at 1st Gup.