How Did I Get Here?

My grandson “Buddy” got me started in karate. He took his first class in October of 2004, when he was six. I drove him to class several times a week, and I was fascinated from the beginning. The other parents in the viewing room occupied their time with magazines or gossip, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Buddy.

By the time he earned his first promotion, I was dreaming about karate, and when the school offered a free trial membership for parents, I jumped at the chance.

First, though, I talked to my doctor. I have several health issues that made me a little nervous about starting a strenuous physical activity, but after checking me out, my doctor encouraged me to go for it. I guess she figured that any physical activity was better than the sedentary lifestyle I had settled into for so many years.

Maybe in spite of her support I would have found a reason not to go through with it, but one day after Buddy’s class I saw “Joe” enter the dojang in his Black Belt uniform. Joe had to be my age or a little older, and he had obvious physical disabilities. I watched the instructors work with him, taking into account his limitations but gently encouraging him to push himself further. If Joe can do it, I thought, so can I.

So in September of 2005, at the age of 59, I signed up, but not without a lot of anxiety. I’m a hefty person, and I worried that they wouldn’t have a uniform to fit me – but they did. I put it on, and felt so conspicuous that I wanted to hide. But when I finally sidled out onto the mat, nobody snickered.

I don’t remember too many details about my first class. I know from watching hundreds of other classes that we must have started out with stretching and calisthenics. Then an instructor would have taken me aside to teach me basic techniques while the other students practiced more advanced moves. Probably by the end of class I was wringing wet and a little shaky – but I was grinning!

That night and the next day I was stiff and sore, but the pain was different from the constant, nagging ache that had made me feel so old. It felt sort of like a badge of honor. I couldn’t wait for the next class.