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By watching me in class, people must wonder how on earth I make it through the day without killing myself.
I walk through the doors of the Dojo and I swear I forget how to even walk. The moves are so deceptive. The look so easy when Sensei does them, I watch carefully, get up, and I freeze. I guess the only thing worse than my regular memory is my muscle memory.
One move my partner & I were working on...he just looked at us and stopped the class to again show us what we were supposed to be doing. I almost pulled a muscle trying not to laugh.... other than two people dressed in white, it looked nothing like what we were trying to do. What a sight we must have been.
Some of the moves are at least starting to look familiar. I think I need to slow down and really pay attention to the details. If I could just get over worrying about the person I'm working with. I really hate to go too slow and drive them nuts. Although, I guess being a petite person, I should get down the details, it's certainly not like I can out muscle any of those big guys.
Out of the entire time, I just love working with Sensei. I swear, I get more out of just two minutes of instruction with that man than I do the entire rest of the hour. I'm sure part of it is I'm less self-conscious and more relaxed when working with him. Although, I swear he must tell me the same thing twenty times before it even starts to sink in. He must be either the most patient person in the world or think I'm only working with half a brain.
I'm thinking that maybe I'll try to find a video and practice some simple moves at home. There has got to be something out there for the student who still can't find their feet after three months. Well, unless I'm the only one out there.
As humbling as it is, the two nights a week that I'm able to go are by far still the highlights of my week.