That first real punch

Came last night for me.

All these months I’ve been practicing on the bag, doing things slowly and coming within a few inches or so of my mark only to stop and try something else. I haven’t been itching to actually try a punch out since I’ve been training, but I do admit I’ve been a little curious.

Let me at this point thank Sensei John for taking those hits last night.

I went to a women’s self-defense class last night at the dojo. It was a fundraiser for Bright Happy Power, my friend Gail’s foundation for Boston Children’s Hospital in honor of her daughter, Jess. I went, not as a student of the dojo, but as a woman who has recently been sobered into the need for self protection (I won’t go into that here.) Friends came with me, and brought their teen-age daughters. I felt safe to figure things out.

So we practiced a bunch of stuff I was already familiar with, and at the end put it all together in a mock attack. Brave Sensei John put on the red man suit (this thing is just hilarious, unless you have a phobia of fire hydrants) and proceeded to attack us all.

I was totally amazed at how women who had never really thought about fighting before could just haul off and go for it to save their own lives. Yelling, punching, kicking, elbowing, cursing, tons of fire and fierce spirit. Even the most timid of the group put gloves on a gave it a try. I was completely humbled by them.

I went last. I was afraid.

John’s shorter than me, but he’s very grounded, like a tree, and strong. The other women had begun with face to face confrontation, but I was grabbed from behind.

I actually only remember the three minute struggle in bits and pieces. Throwing hands off only to have them grab me again and again. Using every part of my body to resist. Getting into a hold, saying ‘I’m in trouble!’ to my classmates, Tashi’s response to keep going, and I thought, oh, of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Yelling and cursing, saying things that I am astonished to admit I was actually feeling. Ending up on the floor and driving my feet over and over into his solar plexus as I tried desperately to get up, terrified then.

Then the first solidly landed cross came. I have a muscle memory of drawing my fist back and letting it sail right out and over John’s chin, and watching his head follow the path of my force. I thought, holy crap, I just did that.

It all changed in that moment. I realized that I can do it if I have to, and do it with force enough to make an impact.

Impact. That’s the key word. I’ll leave a mark. Knowing that I can do that, knowing that I will if I have to, is a piece of self I’ve never been able to collect into the fold. Now it is here.

I hope that the majority of marks I will leave in this world will be positive, generative ones. But now I am aware of my capability to fight, and that I am proud that I can. And I hope that will be another part of me I can be proud of.

“Make visible what, without you, might have never been seen.”
- Robert Bresson

~ by pands on June 18, 2008.