Curse you, Michael Flatley!

I am so NOT the Lord of the Dance. The other day as Sweet Pea was practicing some nice little tunes on her Irish tin whistle I decided to dance a little jig. It involved a few taps and toe steps, a little twirling and a whole hell of a lot of yelling. All I can say is make sure that there are no spare tools lying around if you decide to dance a jig.

Sweet Pea was very amused. She giggled for many many minutes. And then the hubby told me I was no Lord of the Dance which caused us all to giggle for a bit longer.

Curse you Michael Flatley - I blame this one on you! (just because I can! I certainly can't blame it on my own ineptitude, now can I?)

 Quack!

My Muscles Have Memories

Based on the title of this post and the subject of a lot of my recent posts you may think this will be a rambling reminiscence of some point in my past where I fondly recount a memory about my favorite muscle. Well, you'd be wrong. (That's tomorrow's post.)

As you may know, I have an interest in martial arts. I'm currently taking karate classes with my family. Until recently, I was taking Brazilian Jiu Jitsu classes. I've attended some seminars recently on American Kenpo and have had a little bit of training there as well. In addition, many years ago I was into Okinawan Goju Ryu. As part of the Goju Ryu we learned some weapons including a little bit of Arnis (sticks). There was an excellent instructor who had a lot of real life, practical experience and related training and taught us some great stuff!

Well, recently I attended an excellent seminar on Kali (stick fighting very similar to Arnis or Escrima). As part of the seminar we did some knife defense. And let me tell you, even after almost 20 years, my muscle memory was still there. Back in my Goju Ryu days we had spent some time doing drills against a knife attack. It was a lot of repetition - moving to avoid the knife, deflect it and get out of the way mainly. But as soon as we began working on this the other day in the class, I automatically moved the way we were taught years ago. I may not have remembered all the details, but my muscles did.

I ran into the same thing at a Kenpo seminar I went to in October where we did a little bit of defense against a stick. When the stick came down, my body instinctively moved the way I had been taught 20 years ago.

Granted, it wasn't the smooth, powerful, movements of a master or anything. Rather, it was shaky, what-am-I-doing, is-this-right, sort of movements, but the basics were there. The underlying instinctive movement that didn't require concentration (which allowed me to concentrate instead on other things, like - does my hair look OK? and What is that in that man's teeth?)

Muscles are amazing! And somewhat scary. I mean, my muscles have better memory than I do! I hope they don't remember the times I've abused them in the past! Now if only I could get them to remember all the katas I've forgotten from my Goju Ryu days. I would love to be able to do those again! And maybe, if I ask nicely, they can help me with my crossword puzzle.
 
Quack!

Meowing and Hissing Like a Snake That's Eaten a Cat

  Did I ever tell you about the time I was chased by a Bear? It was very exciting! And by exciting I mean, scary - downright terrifying!

Pshaw! you're saying! I know you are! I can hear it echoing around the walls of this blog like fleas hopping around in bear fur! You don't believe me!

Well, I was. I was chased by a black Bear. Bear was a black labrador who lived up the street from me. He was a very sweet, black labrador, who I got along with very well. That is, until I was mounted on a bicycle. I don't know what it was with that dog and bicycles, but I made the mistake of riding my bike past his house. He was in his yard and as soon as my bike whizzed by he took off after me like a shot! And it wasn't all wiggling tail and whining and pet-me-pet-me-pet-me. This was all foaming mouth, snarling, barking, ears back, I'm-going-to-eat-your-head, let-me-at-her. But I escaped and lived to tell the tale. Do you think it's a coincidence that I don't have a dog? My cat hardly ever chases me down the hall, meowing and hissing like a snake that's eaten a cat.

And speaking of run-ins with wildlife, did I ever tell you about the time I had a chipmunk climb up my pant leg. On the inside? That's a tale for another day.

Quack!

Garbage and Other Detritus - The Possibilities Are Endless

When I take a walk, I can't help but look around me. I mean, who doesn't. But do other people notice the little things that I notice? The interesting bits of metal in the gutters? The cool-shaped rocks flaking off the sidewalks? The discarded feathers and colorful leaves at the side of the road?

I'm sure many people do. But do those people put that stuff in their pockets and bring it home? How can they not? That rock would make an awesome cover for a tiny book! That feather would delight the kids! That piece of metal, well, I don't know what I would do with it, but it's so cool! The possibilities are endless.

However, there is a line I will not cross. You won't catch me rifling through your garbage or recycle bin, and if I find a rock, no matter how cool it is, that is too heavy to lift, I will leave it behind!


Quack!

Wing Bits and Fairy Dust

I was talking a walk the other day and noticed there was an unusual amount of butterflies around. These were dark brown with orange markings, about 1.5 - 2 inch wings and they were all over the place! I started counting them, but lost count after a couple hundred thousand. If I were a different sort of person I would know exactly what sort of butterfly they were and what they were doing out in such numbers, but I'm n . . . wait a minute. I'm exactly that sort of person. Why haven't I looked this up? I have no idea. Laziness I expect.

But, like I said, I was walking and from down the road I could see a butterfly approaching. It was moving quickly in a straight line with only a little bit of butterfly bounce. As it zoomed in I got a little nervous, after all butterflies are large bugs with antennae and many legs, even if they are pretty. But, not wanting to look like a fool I refused to duck and dodge for a mere butterfly, despite it's homicidal and suicidal tendencies. I stood my ground. And then CRASH! Ooof! The kamikaze, dive-bombing butterfly slammed into my chest, exploding into nothing but wing bits and fairy dust.

OK, I made some of that up. Really, just prior to the grizzly ending the butterfly veered off crazily. Apparently they have some sort of echolocation abilities, like bats. Either that or they have terrible eyesight and quick reflexes. (ie, they don't actually see me until they are right on top of me, but are quick enough to veer off prior to impact.)

And this happened several times. I suspect I may have been invisible and didn't know it.

Quack!

Four?!? Is That All?!?!

I'm still working on the chin-ups. I know - you don't care. But I do, so I'm going to tell you about it. I was so excited! The other day I did 4!

"Four?!?!" you say. "Is that all?"

Yes, four. But I am very proud of that four. And when I say four, I mean four at once - in a row. I usually do several sets of 2 or 3 and get up to about 8 reps altogether. But until now, my max in a single go has been 3. But for the first time I did four in a row.

I suspect that this would move along a little faster if I didn't take breaks from practicing them. But my arms were in rough shape for a couple of weeks from a Kenpo seminar so I couldn't flex my forearms - made it difficult to grab the pullup bar. But I'm back in action now and before you know it I'll be doing 5, or 10.


And yes, much like when I achieved one and then two and then three, I will most-likely update you on my progress as I get to five, and six (and you can see where this is going, can't you?) I can't ever always blog about exciting, interesting or weird things.

Quack!

Now All She Needs is a Gazelle

   I don't think I have ever moved so much furniture in such a short amount of time.
I don't believe I had that much crap in my bedroom.
I don't believe I managed to stuff so much crap into the spare/computer room.
I didn't think it was possible to stack furniture so expertly.
I don't believe how bare and clean my bedroom is now.

What am I talking about? Well, I have a nice big bedroom with a high ceiling. It now contains a bed, a dresser and a set of shelves. Period. All jammed into the far end. The rest of it is just open space. A huge, empty, yawning space.

A savannah.

A wasteland.

A desert.

A dojo.

Yes. Our very own (small) dojo. Hubby can practice his Iaido, we can practice our katas, we can do our bjj rolling. It's tight - we crash into the walls sometimes, but if we're careful, oh so very careful, we can make use of this space.

We actually considered moving the bed into the closet to make a little bit more space, but that seemed a bit extreme. And by extreme, I mean, more extreme than the craziness we already just did.

But we can always move it back if we decide we made a bad decision or if we end up not using it. And in the process I managed to throw out a lot of old crap that we should have gotten rid of long ago. If nothing else it was good exercise.

And the cat loves the open space. Whenever she gets a chance she sneaks in (it's a forbidden room for kitties) and sprawls out in the middle of the open space, no doubt imagining herself a lion on the savannah. Now all she needs is a gazelle.

Quack!

Sweating, Panting, Struggling, Shifting, Swearing, Pushing and a Tiny Bit of Actual BJJ

So, how is BJJ going, you ask? It's going very well, thank you very much. In case you don't know (and there's no reason you would, and even I didn't know until about a week ago), 'rolling' is what they call it when you grapple/wrestle/roll around with your partner and try to sweep them, or get them in an arm lock, or a leg lock or a submission while trying to avoid getting yourself caught in one of those situations.

As the hubby and I practice our moves and get slightly better at a few of them, a couple of our practice sessions have ended up with us rolling - much like when the gerbils got into a fight - teeth and nails and fur flying, rolling bodies with no obvious winner, lots of swearing (mostly from me), lots of sweating, panting, struggling, shifting and pushing and a tiny little bit of actual BJJ.

Every once in a while I find myself grabbing a leg the right way, or getting my arms just right, then drawing a complete blank on what comes next.

Here's some of last night's conversation (if 'conversation' is what you can call those grunting, panting phrases uttered between my curses):

Me: Oh, wait, wait, don't move. I know he told us how to get out of this one. I need to think.

Me, trapped under the full weight of the hubby with little ability to move at all, let alone breath: Oh crap! He never told us how to deal with this one. (I'm suspecting it's because I never should have let myself get in that situation in the first place.)

Hubby: Whoa! Watch that knee! (That knee was too close for comfort!)

But the good news is, when I'm rolling I do remember some of it and see glimmers of hope that I may get better at it. I also recognize when I've completely screwed up, often just before that final moment when I'm stuck. It makes me hopeful that one day I'll be able to do something about it before it's too late.

There's something to be said for actually getting something to work though. Every once in a while I end up doing something right and get the hubby in an arm lock, or almost manage to sweep him, or I end up on top. Whoo hoo! Ha! Gotcha! Then of course, the tables turn again. But every little victory is awesome!
 
Quack!

Byzantium Jujubes or BJJ

So, I attended a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu seminar recently. (I may have spelled it wrong in the post title). I was somewhat hesitant to do so, but hey, learning how to defend yourself in all sorts of terrible situations is never a bad thing to learn. But still, I was hesitant. My reluctance was not alleviated when I stepped onto the workout floor with upwards of 20 large, burly, hairy, heavily-muscled men. I was somewhat soothed by the presence of two women - neither of whom was particularly burly and a handful of teens/tweens and of course, my hubby - who is a large, burly, hairy, heavily-muscled man, but he's MY large, burly, hairy, heavily-muscled man, which is very different than a large, burly, hairy, heavily-muscled man that I don't know.

If this was like the last seminar I attended, I knew we would be switching partners and I wouldn't have the luxury of only man-handling and being man-handled by, my husband. Fortunately, that wasn't the case and the hubby and I were partners for the entire class. (However, I would imagine that if I were to continue studying BJJ I would have to occasionally work with a different partner. Which I am sure would be OK and I'm sure I would get used to it, but there you go.)

In any case, the class went well. I'm not a touchy-feely type person. I usually shy away from physical contact with strangers, acquaintances and those I don't know really really well. My kids and husband get lots of hugs, pats, tickles, bumps, shoves, etc, but other than them, most people are not subject to my touch. But if you are into BJJ, well, physical contact is required. It's not like sparring where you attempt to maintain a safe distance - just close enough to kick someone in the head, or punch them in the gut, then get out. This is a much closer sport - like mashing chests together, wrapping arms around necks and using shoulders to push faces out of the way. it's about 'mounting' or straddling your partner and having them do the same to you. It's wrapping legs around each other and getting very very very close, much like being in a pit of snakes. Sometimes it's hard to tell whose legs are whose - even when some of them are your own.

And while it's all for the sake of learning to defend yourself (or for sport for those interested in that aspect) all that contact with strangers can be somewhat overwhelming. Being a girl I don't have much experience with wrestling despite the fact that I was always a tomboy and grew up with 4 older brothers (and a girly sister :). But all that aside, it was a success and I enjoyed myself. I learned a lot and would like to learn more. I guess only time will tell how far I go with this.

Quack!

A Pack of Starving Wild Dogs

  So, the other day I was rollerblading at the parkway. I sometimes stop after work if the weather is right. It's a nice 4 mile skate and if it's not too windy or too buggy, it's a lot of fun. At one point I skated past a flock of geese off the side of the path. They watched me skate past.

On the return trip, they were waiting, watching. I got flustered by all those staring beady little eyes. I hit a rock! I lost my balance! I went flying! Right into the middle of the entire flock! It was terrifying - they were all over me - flapping their wings, pecking and biting and honking. I thought I was a goner.

Wait. No, not really. Sorry to scare you. But as I skated past them, that's what went through my mind. What if I were to trip right there and fall into the flock of them. That's what they were waiting for. Would they part like the red sea and make way for my falling body? Sidestep skittishly out of the way? Would they step in after the fact to see if I was OK? Or would they descend on me like a pack of starving wild dogs and peck me until I was bloody. Slam me with their powerful wings and honk at me continuously until I begged their forgiveness? I haven't had any serious run-ins with geese, but I'm guessing it's the latter.

I skate on the far side of the path now - very carefully. I don't want my imagination to prove me right.


Honk!

Clap For Me!

  So, remember this post and this one where I went on about chin ups? Well, since you are all so interested in my progress I thought I would share. I did two in a row! That's right. Two Freakin' Chin Ups In A Row! Whooo Hoooo! Very exciting! Clap for me!

And then I haven't done any at all in 4 days. I need to get down to the bar right now before I lose those hard earned muscles.

Quack!

Isn't this fun? Come on! Try it with me!

So, remember this post where I went on ad nauseum about chin-ups? Well, we're seeing progress. The other day I did, (yes, I really did), 4 chin-ups!!!

Now, not all at once or anything. But I did one, then rested a minute or so, then did a second, then rested a minute or so, then did a third! and knew that was it for a while so I did my sets of negatives to strengthen those there lat muscles. Then, a bit later - maybe 10-15 minutes later, I did a fourth! I know, you could care less, but WOW! I'm jazzed about it! Jazzed let me tell you! Pumped! Psyched! Whoo hoo baby! Just a couple of months ago, when I bought that pull-up bar I couldn't do a single one, not even close!

So, to get to the point, if you want to be able to do pullups/chinups, then you need to try to do chin-ups. That is, you need to attempt it and you need to practice. You need to strengthen those muscles that make it possible. Trying a single chin-up every few days won't cut it. (I know. I tried that first.) If you're where I was, unable to do a single one, then do negatives. Do as many as you can every couple of days. I wasn't up there every day all day long. I did my 3 sets of negatives with a 1-2 minute rest between about 3-4 times a week tops. Took maybe 10 minutes, if that. And it made a difference.

So now my next goal is to be able to do two in a row with no rest between. That  means I need to keep practicing. Lots of negatives. I'm up to sets of about 7 - up from 5. Isn't this fun? Come on! Try it with me! You can do it!!

Quack!

Yoga - Not a Complete Waste of Time

  I went to a second yoga class. I documented my first try at it here, remember? So I decided to give it another try.  And my overall conclusion is the very one that you read in the title. "Yoga - Not a Complete Waste of Time".

I said as much after leaving the class. I was trying to express my indifference toward yoga while not completely insulting yoga, the people who enjoy it and all it stands for. In my eloquence (or lack thereof), I'm not too sure I succeeded.

I like yoga. Sort of. It's a challenge - balance, strength, overall fitness, all of that. Absolutely. Focus, relaxation, inner peace. All that good stuff. Really, yoga is great. But I've decided it's just not my thing. At least at this point in my life. You would think I would appreciate the relaxed nature - a big change from my everyday life which is rush rush rush, do this, do that, get it done, crap! I didn't get it all done. Rush rush rush some more. It should be a chance to breathe, to enjoy the challenge, feel my muscles stretching, moving, strengthening, blah blah blah. But I just can't get past the "OK what's next? Let's do the next exercise. I gotta move! I can't sit still! Let me move!" (And I didn't even have coffee before class!)

As I stand in half lotus, breathing deeply, visions of kettlebells and the power and ballistics of the kettlebell moves float through my mind like butterflies in the breeze.

As I bend into a butt-exposing stretch in the silent room, praying no one lets one rip, the sounds of a karate class - pounding music, shouted 'Yessir!"s, kiais and explosive breaths reverberate through my mind like a drum beat.

As I lift my arm in front of me and bend, extending my leg behind, hoping my non-existant cleavage isn't being exposed as I hop and shimmy in an attempt to stay balanced I feel the wind whistling past my ears and feel the wheels upon my feet as I blow down the parkway in my rollerblades like a groom who's late for his wedding.

And then, finally, the class was over. The relaxing stretch and burn was over. The deep breathing was over. The silence was over. I was free. Yes, apparently I completely and utterly miss the point of yoga. I've given up trying to find it. It's elusive, mysterious, out of my grasp.

I was out the door like a shot. Where's my kettlebell? Where are my roller blades? I . . . must . . . move!

Quack!

Bronzed, Shiny, Bulging Muscle With the Strength of an Ox

  So I do karate. And I'm into kettlebell. And I like to rollerblade and ride my bike and walk. All good stuff. So, you might think I'm some sort of fitness godess, all bronzed, shiny, bulging muscle and the strength of an ox. Of ten oxen.

 Well, you'd be wrong.

There is no bronzing here - unless it happens naturally because I forget sunblock. There are a few muscles, but I'd hardly call them bulging. And as for the strength of an ox? Well, not so much. I'm working on it though. Read on.

What I'd really like to be able to do is a pull-up. That's right. A pull-up. A single dog-darned pull-up! I've never been able to do pull-ups. And in all honestly, I don't think I ever really tried very hard. But it's one of those things that has gotten under my skin. I want to be able to do a pull-up!

And what got the idea in my head you ask? Is it all the fitness stuff I've been doing lately? Did I come across something on the web? Do I crave uber strength? Well, mostly, it's the fact that Sweet Pea - gentle little Sweet Pea, my little peanut - can do wicked pull-ups! You should see her go! She has to do them for a presidential fitness thing at school and every year she's among the highest in her class - beating out most of the boys too! That's awesome! My little girl! I'm so proud!

And while I'm not really competing - afterall she's 30 years younger than me, I went out and got a new pull-up bar for home. It's one those easily assembled things that fit in the doorway - Snickers and I spent about 8 hours assembling it one day.

Then I tried a pull-up. Tried being the operative word. Crap! Not a single one? Come on! But no. Not a one! It went like this:

Mom: OK, I'm gonna try one. Ready?
Sweet Pea: Ready!
Mom: OK, let me warm up my shoulders and lats. (Lots of arm swinging and flexing)
Sweet Pea: (giggling)
Mom: OK, here goes. (pull, grunt, pull)
Mom: Whoo hoo!! I made it half way!

So, I did some research. The proper way is to start from a dead hang, and pull yourself up from there. If I cheat, and start with my arms at a 90 degree angle, I can do one. From a dead hang I'm, well, dead. No go! Nada.

I read about the muscles that go into it (biceps, shoulders, abs and lots of lats - those nice muscles on your sides - under your armpits - you know the ones I mean.)

And, more importantly, I read about some ways to practice and get stronger if you can't even manage one pull-up. (And I'm not alone - from what I read many people, women and men, can't do a single pull-up, so I don't feel too bad). If you don't have access to a fully equiped gym, the key is doing 'negatives'. That involves starting in the top position with your chin over the bar - get there however you can. Have someone lft you, use a chair, whatever. (I use a kiddie step stool and a little hop). From there, slowly (the key being 'S-L-O-W-L-Y') lower yourself to the dead hang position. Lather, rinse, repeat.

So, I made a plan, every 2-3 days I do three sets of however many  negatives I can do. Usually that's 5 for the first and second sets and 3 for the last set. If I'm feeling particularly crazy I'll do a fourth set.

And it's paying off! The other day - I made it 80% of the way! Maybe 85%! (Stop laughing!) It was awesome!! Another couple of weeks and I'll be able to do one! (I said, stop laughing!) And once I can do one, nothing can stop me!
 
Quack!

Yoga Makes Me Tense and Ready to Spring Into Action

  I went to a yoga seminar the other day. I've always had some interest in yoga, but have never really done any (other than the few yoga exercises that come with Wii Fit, or the few I've picked up from various fitness magazines, and that hardly counts). I own at least two books on yoga and a couple of DVDs. I'd like to say they are awesome, but honestly, I haven't finished reading, or watching, any of them. For whatever reason yoga just doesn't hold my interest despite the fact that I find it interesting. I think it's too calm, too slow, too relaxation-oriented. Not that it's not difficult or challenging, it just does it in a more meditative way than I can wrap my head around right now.

Of course, a little bit of relaxation might be good. I mean, I don't sit and relax. I'm always doing something. Whether it's my job, or karate, or kettlebell, or artsy, craftsy, beading, sharpie-ing, web site design/development, cleaning, baking, roller blading, biking, playing . . . I don't have time for sitting and relaxing. On those rare occasions when I do find myself on the couch in front of the TV, it's guaranteed that I'm also reading, drawing, catching up on email, crafting or doing something otherwise engaging.

So, you would think that yoga might be a good fit. I could (sort-of) relax and work-out at the same time, right?

Well, back to this yoga seminar. It was an intro to yoga - a one-hour seminar to give you the feel of what the yoga classes will be like (which I won't be taking even if I wanted to because they are during the day when I'm at work)

The seminar was great - it really was. The instructor was good - really knowledgable and certainly fit. And the workout was awesome. It was challenging yet fun. I did pretty well I thought. At least I didn't make a fool of myself and I'm pretty fit and flexible so I didn't have a lot of difficulty. There were certainly challenges and I did have a few sore spots the following day. I can see where I could really enjoy it.

But when it came to the end of the class, and we were lying on the floor, all collapsed, relaxed and breathing deeply, and we had been for a minute or two, the instructor said, "You should be relaxed and calm," or something to that effect and I realized that all my muscles were tense, that I had missed the point somewhere. I mean, I was like a board. I was lying there, looking relaxed, but my legs and backside were tight, my arms were stiff. Not at all yoga-relaxed. I was breathing deeply, but not listening to any inner voices or listening to birds chirp and sun shine and wafting breezes. I was peering out through my half lidded eyes thinking, "WTF! Can we get up now? How long are we going to lie here? Can I get up yet? Huh? Huh? Huh? Can I get up? Every muscles was tensed and ready to spring into action - ready for my next activity. Let's go roller-blading! Let's go shopping! Let's do something! Anything! I can't lie here any more! Aaaaah!

So yes, I think I may have missed a core point somewhere. Maybe more yoga would be helpful after all.

Quack!