| Ouch |
[Jun. 13th, 2006|11:41 pm] |
I think my sensei is trying to kill me. Every time I attend aikido practice, we end up doing randori. For the uninitiated, that means I have anywhere from 1 to 5 people all trying to punch, grab, grapple, kick or otherwise hurt me. Best Beloved believes that he's attempting to get me ready for my black belt test this September, but I'm the one that has looked into his scary eyes.
I can see it, you know. The stabbity death in his eyes.
Anyway, my hands and wrists are a mess tonight. Right hand and wrist are torn up from backfists and sankyo locks, not to mention being thrown off the mat and slapping out on the wooden support beam. Left hand aches and twinges from the repeated attempts of white belts to twist it off. Blind randori (yes, we did that tonight. Yes, that means the defender is honored to wear a blindfold. No, I don't enjoy it.) is really rough on the body.
Anyway, I hurt and I felt like sharing. Good thing none of you is within arm's reach . . .
/end trans |
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