Message to my Jiu-Jitsu instructor:
So here’s what happened NOW.
On Wednesday afternoons, a buddy and I co-teach a self defense class at our kids’ school. He works with the guys; I work with the girls. I was teaching the Elevator Sweep (originally mentioned here, though I had the name wrong), when the girl stuck her arm out last second and rolled me over onto it. I got up, paused, breathed, and this should tell you how much it hurt: I used a CLICHE!!
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” I said.
I’m so ashamed.
Her arm was fine, but by side hurt worse than my gnarly ugly foot.
So far I have been to class twice this month. Twice!
Every 20 classes, you get a white stripe on your belt. (Anyone else hearing Seven Nation Army in your head all of a sudden? M?) In my last class, Sweaty/Indifferent Man earned his fourth stripe, and we all clapped. Instructor then pointed at me with a broad smile and said, “You’re next.”