Sparring

BB's current therapy: "Loose," by Buick Mackane. The whole band just howls on this one, and you know, it's brilliant that Alejandro Escovedo's vocals are somewhat buried in the mix. I love hearing him roar to be heard.

***

We're getting a sparring/fight class underway at the Krav Maga school, and I'm pumped, just all sorts of pumped.

And I can't explain why. I'm not good at it, and heck, it's not Krav. I've heard it said in Krav that if your confrontation lasts more than about eight seconds you've really screwed up. It's an explosive self defense system, not kickboxing.

I've got this footage of a bunch of blues guitarists on some show. I remember BB King, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Albert King and some others. And someone says something about all of them swapping solos on the next tune, and Albert King's in the back just yelling, Yeah!. That's how I feel when I get a chance to spar, for some reason. I want to shout and get right after it.

I can only wonder. Maybe it's the idea of trying to implement some of the things I've watched my whole life. I grew up watching boxing, and it's one thing for a spectator to point out holes in a fighter's technique, but it's another to try to be the fighter, you know?

Once in a while I do something right. I have those moments where I land a shot and think, Ha, I CAN do this!

And then the other person will land one (or two or more) and I'll think, Hey, no one told me I was sparring with Bruce Lee...

***

I do like the moments, fleeting though they are sometimes, when I do something we've been taught without any conscious thought. Couple weeks ago at the end of a class on gun defenses, we loosened up a bit, and improvised here and there. My partner put the gun in my face, and my hands flew up in a disarm I hadn't done in months. "I don't know what that was, but it worked," he said.

(BB blows on knuckles...)

***

So yeah, we had three folks stick around for sparring tonight. Mostly it was straight-up boxing stuff, very light. Although we're not actually competing, afterwards all I can do is poke holes in my technique. I kept my hands up okay, executed a few inside defenses, landed some shots to the body and head.

I also dropped a hand when punching, which usually meant taking one in the noggin. Ah fudge. And again, at some point when my opponent started throwing a flurry of punches I found myself in a classic defensive position, with head between my arms, elbows forward (know what I'm talking about? I'm sure it has a name). Yes a flurry of punches was coming my way, but I defended myself, and without putting any thought into it.

Other times I sparred like a cheesed off Girl Scout.

THIS is why we practice, right?

***

It's a good release though, really comparable to a long jog. I love getting to that point in class where the sweat's flowing, and I'm tired but not wiped out. Sometimes I can barely sit still. Not sure why.

***

I want to run again, I do. I want to do a lot of things. My leg's improved, but not perfect. Part of me thinks that well, as long as it's going to ache a bit no matter what I might as well enjoy myself, you know? I'd like to run at least one more half marathon. I'd run it smarter this time, set a good pace early and just cruise. We'll see.

***

Bed beckons. Be good.