Dear Bas Rutten: I Hate You I Hate You I Hate You, You're Not My Real Father!

THEBOY had a great birthday:

 

I woke him up to "Birthday" by the Beatles.

 

He had Pop Tarts for breakfast (mmm… sugar…)

 

His class sang happy birthday to him, and they had cupcakes (mmm… more sugar…).

 

Santa arrived at the school via helicopter. And Mrs. Claus arrived in a separate helicopter (bitchin' sure, but man, do they need marriage counseling?)

 

THEBOY had McDonald's for supper (mmm… deep-fried sugar…).

 

He got to see a magic show at the library (birthday+magic+free=greatness).

 

He played with some expensive-ass new toys.

 

He got to stay up until 10pm.

 

So as I tucked him in, asked him what he thought of his birthday:

 

"It seemed just like a regular day."

 

So now he's grounded until he's 18.

 

***

 

Thank you to everyone who sent kind wishes. There were tons!

 

***

 

MOBB returned to Krav Maga for the first time in a while. It's been an injury-plagued year for her, what with the dislocated shoulder and broken wrist.

 

And yeah, I can't blame her for being a little apprehensive about returning. New instructors, many new students, and probably some concern as to how the wrist would do.

 

So the kids and I stopped by after the magic show to lend her some support. The class was just wrapping up.

 

She surprised me by suggesting that I stay for the next class. I was in regular clothes, though not awful choices for working out at least.

 

***

 

She took the kids home and I stayed.

 

Remember how I said not long ago that I'd wanted more exertion after a workout, that I'd wanted to feel that great fatigue that comes with truly busting one's butt?

 

Yeah.

 

Yeeeeeeeeeeeah.

 

I am a fool.

 

***

 

See, it's not a class per se that I attended. It's just that after some Krav classes they'll ask if anyone wants to stick around and "do Bas."

 

They've got a Bas Rutten workout tape (yep, a cassette). It's 28 minutes of non-stop shadowboxing, crunches, pushups, lunges, squat/jumps, knees, etc.

 

Halfway through you realize you've lost your mind.

 

***

 

It's constant motion, one of those deals where the rest period is 30 seconds of crunches.

 

20 minutes in I decided there was no shame in puking if I had to. It was much like round four of the most recent BB/Whit sparring. I had nothing left. This time, however, I reached down and kept moving.

 

And I didn't hurl.

 

***

 

So when the last exercise comes, you think you've made it. Bas explains, in that charmingly sadistic accent of his, that we're to do 10 squat/jumps. That is, you squat down, then jump up, knees to your chest. Fine, fine.

 

Only he then explains that he doesn't just mean 10. Oh no.

 

He means that when he says "one," you do one.

 

And when he says "two," you do two.

 

On up to 10.

 

Heh heh. Heh.

 

But okay, so be it. At that point we'd all done maybe 150 pushups, countless squats, mount climbers… it was murder.

 

And when he said "ten," I went after it, really not knowing what was left in the tank.

 

Because I am insane, I did eleven.

 

***

 

It was kind of like wrapping up the half marathon; I didn't stop at the finish line. I went about 10 more feet.

 

***

 

My abs were already killer-sore from ground defenses we'd worked on Monday night.

 

***

 

And after the Bas workout, we had an impromptu Q&A/demonstration on takedowns and throws. They told me I'm quite good at falling. Though that's an important skill, I'd like to develop more skills on the other side of the equation. You know, the side where get to be the thrower, not the throwee.

 

***

 

Now that I'm getting genuine Krav training, you know, I see a lot of chinks in my armor, gaps in my training. Fine fine, I'll fix all that.

 

***

 

Friday Friday… ya'll have a good one.