I was nineteen and a half, and loads tougher than I am now (did not wax my eyebrows etc.). I was a blue belt in Tae Kwon Do and I loved it. I went to the Utah Summer Games twice to compete, although I wasn't the best, I did okay for my age/gender group. I was friends with my instructor and therefore got away with wearing black pants instead of white, a privilege only offered to those who have achieved black belt status. A very different but good part of me.
Okay, the story: In class one fateful night we were working on our "flying side kicks" whilst breaking boards. The class created a circular line wrapping around the room stopping about 10 feet from the two dudes holding the board on either side, giving us just enough room to gain momentum, jump and kick through the board. Well, we all had our turn, we all made it through the board...eventually, but our instructor thought our jumps were sloppy, he wanted us to "get a little more air." So a plan was set in motion, the smaller kids in class would sit on their knees, balled up on the floor just before the board. The line kept moving, we all had our turn. Another kid was adding in the mix, then another. So we had three kids balled up on the ground to jump over whilst doing the said flying side kick whilst breaking the board. Well...I ran, I jumped, I kicked, I broke the board, and when I landed on my left leg my knee broke too. Actually it was my ACL that tore, a fact I didn't really find out until a substantially later date during a knee rotation test at the Park City ski resort while trying to get my employee season pass. But as I was preparing for a mish and didn't want to waste time in recovery, I didn't have surgery until after the mission, approximately 3 years later. That's why I have a beautiful scar on my knee, to remind me that I used to be able to kick some trash.
Kind of like this.
And that is my one super glory story. Thanks. The End.
1 comments:
Well I certainly wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley.
Sweet-axe scar story Rach!
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