TheBanyanTree: Middle Aged Aikido Novice

[Monique Young]

I’m too old for this, really. For crying out loud, I’m 45, and even when I
was 25 I wasn’t all that flexible. In high school I was thrown out of
gymnastics the first week of class because I couldn’t tumble and forced to
take volleyball instead, which I much preferred anyway. All these years
later, I still haven’t learned to tumble, but there I am on the mat,
learning to fall without hurting himself.
	As if that will happen. I have a feeling that Aikido is going to teach me,
among other things, how to deal with being hurt. It is an important thing to
learn after all. I don’t have much experience with being beat up, much less
doing it to myself. I suppose it’s good that I get to beat myself up first
though, before others start doing it. Perhaps by then I’ll be better at it.
	Anyway, I went to Aikido tonight with the intention of not embarrassing
myself. I am, after all, older than the others, new, and female. (None of
these things, in and of themselves, is a problem, but combined, they present
what could be construed as a major roadblock.) Sensei was happy to see me
once again, since he had started to wonder what had happened to me. (There’s
been much of that going on, wondering what happened to me.) Yarro has been
my instructor, but he wasn’t there yet, so Sensei assigned Casey to show me
some of the finer points of the art of Aikido. Such as falling over
gracefully.
	I’m a 45 year old accountant; I don’t fall over gracefully. It’s simply not
in my lexicon. But we persevered. One leg straight out, the other bent with
the sole turned up, then roll backwards, legs in air, then up again until I’
m on one knee and one foot. Doesn’t that just sound easy? So one would
think. (One may want to think again. After all, I was once thrown out of a
gym for getting my shoelaces stuck in their equipment. Over and over again.)
But then I realized I was having a surprising situation. After all, I do my
Kegel’s, what was the deal? But there it was. Each roll back down was
producing a miniscule amount of urine. Incontinence. At my age. I didn’t
want to tell my younger instructor. How does one bring that up? “Uhm, excuse
me, but I seem to be peeing my pants each time I do this . . .“ Instead I
excused myself for a few minutes. When I returned I discovered that
apparently it was not going to be a continual problem, which was quite a
relief.
	We eventually got the hang of it, Casey demonstrating extreme patience and
good nature. Yarro arrived, so happy to see me he could barely wait to get
his gi on and come watch me. And there were the three of us, the two of them
watching while I attempted to fall down on my side and smack the ground with
the palm. After several minutes of this humiliation, Yarro told Casey he’d
take over, and he could go back to warming up, or whatever he cared to do.
Yarro is young, and Russian, and we’ve established a rapport of sorts. What
this means is that I can make jokes and laugh, and he laughs with me, or at
me, I’m not sure and it doesn’t matter. The two of us were pretty much
hysterical over my labored attempts, but I was really getting into it. Fall.
Smack. Fall. Smack. Fall. Smack.
	And then the bell rang. Yarro was ready to continue, but then Sensei
approached. He looked relatively pleased, but then again, Sensei always
looks pleased. Sensei suggested that perhaps I was tired. Well, duh.
	It was time for the Buda class to start, and so of course I stayed. For one
thing, I like to watch, and for another, Casey and Yarro were both getting
their yellow belts. There was a crowd gathered; all seats were taken. It was
a solemn occasion, but I don’t think Sensei is ever THAT solemn.
	First Yarro was tested, the entire Buda class taking turns attacking him,
over and over and over again, 49 times he fended off his attackers. Then
three of them, Sensei, a blue belt, and a yellow belt, all attacked Yarro at
once, over and over again. Yarro performed quite well of course, my
instructors are the best.
	Then Casey, attacked over and over again. Casey likes to go in for training
on Thursdays at 6:30 AM. He’s apparently the only one who does, so he gets
one-on-one time with Sensei.
	The yellow belt ceremony took place immediately. Sensei likes to do it that
way, give them their yellow belts as soon as they’ve earned them.
	Everyone has such a good time at the dojo. It’s an amiable group, lots of
laughing and smiling going on all the time. And people are very patient with
the middle-aged woman who can’t seem to make herself into a ball but who is
willing to throw herself on the ground, over and over again. Maybe they’re
humoring me?
	I don’t know if I’ll be able to fend off any attackers, but I can now bow.
And sit. And fall down, both backwards and to the side. I am now officially
dangerous. To myself, perhaps, but that's not really the point.

Batman