Portrait in Linen

Egads. I was soundly, soundly whooped tonight at karate. I thought I was attending an “Intermediate/Advanced” class, but that apparently wasn’t the case.

Thirty minutes into the basics drills, smeared with sweat and pushing myself to the absolute limit, I started getting that familiar woozy-hot/cold-can’t-breathe kinda feeling. As rotten as I felt, the last thing I wanted to do was fink out in front of all the black belts, since it was actually a privilege I was there to begin with (Sensei graciously allowed me to pick up a Friday class since Mondays are out on account of the kids’ activities).

But, common sense won over pride and determination. If I hadn’t bowed out when I did, I would’ve ended up flat on my back on the floor, unconscious. Now THAT would’ve been a class distraction.

I didn’t create a scene. I just raised my hand and said, “I’m feeling lightheaded.” Sensei dismissed me, and that was it.

Back in the dressing room, I felt like crying, for half-a-dozen different reasons.

1. I’m not what I used to be.
2. By being there on a Friday, I probably gave the impression I thought I could handle the Intermediate/Advanced class. Honestly, I didn’t know Friday’s training would be so intense. If I had, I certainly would’ve passed on that. Man, I hope I didn’t lead anyone to believe I’m overconfident, because anyone who knows me well knows confidence is my biggest problem. worry, worry, worry….
3. I caused a disruption to the class.
4. I pushed my body too far, and I know I’m gonna pay for that, not only physically, but psychologically. It’s going to take getting through a couple more classes before I begin to overcome the fear, “I’m gonna pass out–I just know it.”
5. I probably disappointed everyone I’ve spoken to so far, most importantly, Sensei. I think I’ve done a decent job of guarding against unrealistic expectations on anyone else’s part. I haven’t given any detailed information about the past or training I may have done before. In the beginning, I did mention my limitations, so certainly no one was expecting a champion athlete. But I’m sure everyone eyes the beginner to see what she’s got, what she’s made of, how far she can go. I didn’t go far at all.
6. I’m convinced Dad is rolling in his grave. I heard him: “‘AILINA!!! GET back in line! You don’t quit! You get back out there and do it right!” “(*sniff*sniff*)…yes-sir….”

We have class again tomorrow, lunchtime. I’m so shaken by tonight’s experience, my instinct is to cower and stay home. Maybe by Wednesday, everyone will forget all about it.

But then another part of me–a part that seems entirely foreign and subconscious and independent of the other 99% of my psyche–says, get right back up on that horse, no matter how scared I am. Push and push and push. Keep going, keep going. Keep trying, keep trying.

I think I’m going to keep trying. Tonight’s class didn’t kill me. I don’t think anyone ever died of humiliation.