I got to spar last night! +1 to my ninja skills. I worked with a black belt who was young, but exceptionally more experienced (and talented) than I am, so I begged her and our third partner to please, please be nice to me. Both of my partners were incredibly patient and held back from pummeling me mercilessly, which was very much appreciated. However, they went above that and gave me really helpful tips and instructions on how to fight back. Then we did some MMA, (ground work – shrimping, which is less dirty than it sounds, unless you’re talking about the floor, in which case it is exactly as dirty as it sounds) some exercises related to shrimping (which was that we had to lie on our backs, and then shove ourselves over & to the side ALL the way across the floor and back, so that we had room to get out of the mount position, which was dirtier than it sounds, in that I suspect that Mr. Gee had us do this because he didn’t want to clean the floor.) All in all, it was quite the workout, and I sweated my ass off.
After further inspection, I did not, in fact “sweat my ass off”. It’s still … definitely there.
But, this week is the last week before the fitness show, so Mr. Grumpiface is not doing weights. We did cardio on Monday and Tuesday, but I’ve been going to the gym in the evenings with Miss Sassiface, who has sadly elected to stop coming to the gym in the mornings. So, after my extremely taxing class, we went to the gym and did our second arm workout of the week. At this juncture, I recalled exactly WHY I don’t like going to the gym in the evenings – there are other people there in the evenings, and they are all males between 17-35 that have no concept of gym etiquette whatsoever. They take weights to a weight bench, and then sit there playing with their phone for ten minutes, talking to their buddies about their injuries and why they can’t lift as much as they used to. (Keep in mind, this is a pretty ghetto gym, so there’s only one set of each weight.) They never re-rack their weights, and so we have to go hunting for the weights we need. On the machines, you’d think it would be better, but NO – when they change the different bars and handles for the machines, they lose the hooks that attach them so then we have to hunt around for the bits that aren’t supposed to be taken off the machines. Also, and I don’t understand this one at all, I noticed 3 different guys with their hands in their pants for no reason that I want to know about. In addition to all of that, a couple of them have the worst BO I’ve ever smelled. Like, wanted to suggest that the dudes see a doctor about that, because I’m pretty sure that live people aren’t supposed to smell that bad. And, most importantly, they ogle Miss Sassiface like she’s a Barbie they want to play with. Thanks for making me grateful for not being that hot, guys, because you are all creepy little fucktards, like this guy:
*** At this point, I wanted to find a funny picture about making a dude stop staring, and all I could find was pictures involving “stop staring at me or I’ll have to fuck you” slogans and things like that. And now I’m angry because sometimes women actually, SERIOUSLY want you to leave them alone. SERIOUSLY.
Ugh. People. Thanks for making it worth getting up at 6:30 AM so I don’t have to see you.
Aaaaaaanyway. When I came home, I talked to a friend about her experiences in martial arts at another dojo, and reflected on how very, very lucky I am to have found Master Gee’s. You see, she found it awkward to have to train alongside younger kids, who had no discipline and more importantly, no respect. And I knew as she said this, that there was no way that people would get away with that at Master Gee’s. Kids up to 14 are in separate classes, and even so, there is a level of respect and decorum they are trained to observe. I don’t know a lot about training the Tigers (children up to … 7 years old? I think?) but Mr. Grumpiface teaches the Tigers once a week. He says it’s like herding cats, if cats spoke a language somewhat related to English and had opposable thumbs with which to get into trouble. In addition, their clothes fall off constantly, and they are mentally incapable of doing as they’re told. Then there’s the part about respect: If you don’t learn to be respectful in short order, I can’t see Master Gee letting you come back. So, I go to a school where I can be taught by the best with my peer group and feel respected. I knew my school was special, but now I know that Master Gee’s school, the instructors (including Mr. Grumpiface) and the students there are the finest anywhere.