Saturday 25 May 2013

Tumble & Fall

I was listening to some music this morning while eating breakfast, and this song came on to my mp3:



It's been a very long time since I heard this song. It brings back memories, driving along the coast, with Mr Wrong, when I was still foolish enough to think he was Mr Right... We tried to be friends, but the truth was, that just never worked out. 

This song reminds me of a sense of loss and beautiful summer afternoons. 

Thursday 23 May 2013

Get Busy....

This really reflects my state of mind right now. 

Things feel like they're getting on top of me. Work is mental, things are very much following a routine right now, and it's boring. It's driving me a bit nuts. I need some excitement, something different, something fun. Something MEANINGFUL.

I don't know what that is yet, but I am going to work it out and beat this funky mood I've been in. 

After all... get busy living, or get busy dying. What's it going to be?






Bucket List

So I was thinking the other day about a few experiences I'd like to have before I die, in no particular order:

1. Go in a hot air balloon. I don't know why, but I've always wanted to do this. The photographer in me gets a bit orgasmic about the photo opportunity that this would present.

2. Drive a tank. I just think this would be incredibly satisfying.

3. See an Opera. In Italy. I was supposed to do this on my last holiday (Florence) but it was cancelled. 

4. See the Mona Lisa. Self-explanatory.

5. Scale the Eiffel Tower. Again, self-explanatory.

6. Visit Rome.

7. Visit Venice.

8. See the Grand Canyon, preferably from a Helicopter.

9. Go back to Las Vegas.

10. Write a book and publish it. Because everyone has at least one good story, right?

11. Start my own photography business.

12. Get my black-belt in Kickboxing.

13. Earn £xx the-amount-in-my-head.

14. Fall asleep under the stars. (I'm a lousy romantic, obviously).

I fully intend to update this list as and when I think of more to add to it.

Listening to:  Video, Tegan & Sara







Monday 13 May 2013

Shut UP


Kickboxing Seminar

So, at the weekend, I attended the Bill Wallace seminar organised by the 
instructors, of my kickboxing academy.
 
I had no idea what to expect... It was incredibly good and so informative 
although I am now very sore and tired, my left arm and hand especially - 
I'm convinced it has been replaced by a chimp-arm, 
dragging along the floor.





 

Bill Wallace is a very cool guy - and training with him kind of reminded
me of this:



 
But that said, I'd go again.

Monday 6 May 2013

Kickboxing Thoughts


So, some of you may know - that I go kickboxing. I've only been doing it for a few months - not even a year, and have only test twice so far. I'm due to test for my 3rd belt in a fortnight or so, which is exciting.

I'm very lucky - because despite numerous horror stories I've heard, my instructors are lovely and incredibly talented. Actually, one of my instructors just successfully tested for his 8th Dan in Black belt. (Way to go Sir, if you happen to read this!)

I got involved in kickboxing when my Mum started doing it, and recommended it to me. I searched on Google for a local club, and located Master Drury's academy a five minute drive away from my house. It took me several weeks to build up the courage to arrange to go, and then another week to actually make it there. 

I find situations like this nerve-racking and I'm not always confident about bounding into new environments with new people.

The first day I went along, I arrived early, and opened the door, inside leaning against a counter were three burly guys, all black belt. My immediate thought was "Holy shitballs, I've made a terrible mistake. Leave now. Leave immediately."

But I didn't, I stayed and that first class nearly killed me. I hadn't exercised for probably five years before that day and so was in for a very rude physical awakening. But I did what I could and I got through it, and then I went back. I discovered those endorphins fitness nutters are always going on about. Up until this point, I'd assumed that was bullshit. 

The first month was very hard. But now I can't imagine not doing it, although sometimes it is hard to get motivated. 

I do find kickboxing challenging. Not just physically. But sometimes it causes me to go out of my emotional comfort zone. This happened just the other day actually, when we were practising self-defence techniques, ironically. 

I think self defence techniques make me nervous because they are so real.

Sometimes when I'm kickboxing, I feel like I'm doing a move or a combination of moves and I don't always feel that it relates to the human body, although I do of course understand the practical application. When I do a roundhouse kick to a punch-bag, or a hook punch, I'm not necessarily thinking that if I had to, that this would work perfectly in someone's ribs and hurt them.

So I think when we practice self-defence moves and knife defence with the realistic rubber knives, it just felt a little too much like real life. 

I hope that I never have to be in a situation where I need to defend myself.
I have been in the past and my instinct was not to protect myself and fight back. My instinct deserted me and instead I basically let myself get hit.

I think if it ever did happen again, I'd be rendered useless. 

I go kickboxing because a. I'm a little too fat and b. It's great for stress. I don't go because I want to learn how to seriously hurt someone.

It's why I felt so uncomfortable when I first started sparring. I feel horribly uncomfortable practicing hitting and kicking someone else, even if I trust the other person and the movements are slow and controlled. It makes me very nervous. I'm more confident now than I ever was, but it's something that needs work. And the funny thing is - and an instructor pointed it out to me - sparring is not like an actual fight. It's a bit of fun and a way of practicing. An actual fight is something else all together. 

Sometimes it's hard for me not to bring my own baggage with me. Sometimes it makes me think a little too hard. Sometimes I walk down memory lane and don't recall fondly what I find there.

But what I do know is that all the training and practice is worth it - because as nampy-pampy as it sounds, it makes me a better person. It makes me more disciplined. It gives me a sense of achievement. And maybe with enough time, exertion and practice with my amazing instructors I'll have enough confidence to use what I've learned if I ever had to. 

I hope one day, that I'll be black belt. I lust after that as much as I did when I used to fantasise about completing an MA when I was still doing my A-Levels. And the day I graduated was just so sweet. It was perfect. And I hope one day, if - and when, I get to black belt, it'll be equally as good. And as much effort, time and energy will have been invested in it. My instructor quite often says, a black belt is a white belt that never quit. 

Every once in a while....

You can be a real cunt.