All that's left is another attempt at judo
BY GAIL-TZIPPORAH SAUNDERS, Guest Columnist
ONE thing about having a selective memory is that it is easy to forget broken bones, slipped discs and the like. Which is why I am thinking about taking up judo again.
I did try other things before hitting the judo trail. At one point, I even tried becoming a ballerina, which I came to only after someone told me I looked like a dancer, but there were certain factors that stood in my way.
One is that at 5'9", I am taller than the average male dancer and probably weigh about as much, too. Because of this, I probably would have given someone a hernia one fine day. Another is that I could never remember the routines and always had to follow the dancers in front of me or dance while looking at the group in a mirror. A third was that I couldn't tell the difference between the upbeat and downbeat, so I was usually in midair when everyone else was coming in for a landing.
The curtain on this chapter came down when the teacher insisted that I repeat Ballet II. I never did, and it was just as well because I had already run out of money by that point.
I also tried becoming a concert violinist, and even found a kind-hearted teacher to sneak me into her after-school program and lend me a violin. The problem here was my theory of musical giftedness. I figured that you either are, or you aren't. Thinking that I was, I cut down on my practice time, which made matters worse because I needed to see those colored pieces of tape on the strings to avoid playing the wrong notes. The teacher had other ideas about musical giftedness and made me give back the instrument.
I can now see how all this paved the way for my return to the judo world. One of the teacher's first acts, as I stood on the mat barefoot and gee-clad with that class 20 years ago, was to pair off each student with a partner of a similar height and weight so we could practice flipping each other and the like.
One day my regular partner was absent, so I paired off with a man whose biceps came up to my eyes. When it was my turn, I was polite, I acquiesced, and I flipped over easily. Yet when it was his, he affixed himself to the mat while I tugged at his arm. I finally got fed up and complained to the teacher, who told me that I would have to work harder. I finally did get him over, via an illegal judo move, meaning that I rolled him over my back.
But that was before the ultimate test.
During one of the last classes, the instructor lay face down on the mat and had each student somersault over him without so much as touching his firm and toned backside or rearranging one fiber of his gee. One person ran up and did it, then the next and the next.
As I was running up to him, I wondered how I was going to get over him without so much as putting my head anywhere on his body. By the time I got there, I lost my nerve and went over while placing my head on his derriere. I didn't think anyone else had noticed, but when I got to the other side of the gym, one of my classmates nudged me in the ribs and said, "Nice way to get an A." And I did.
And I've been thinking about taking it again because it's practical and something I could do.
Gail-Tzipporah Saunders is a San Fernando Valley writer. Fonte: Los Angeles Daily News - Los Angeles, CA, USA - http://www.dailynews.com/
BY GAIL-TZIPPORAH SAUNDERS, Guest Columnist
ONE thing about having a selective memory is that it is easy to forget broken bones, slipped discs and the like. Which is why I am thinking about taking up judo again.
I did try other things before hitting the judo trail. At one point, I even tried becoming a ballerina, which I came to only after someone told me I looked like a dancer, but there were certain factors that stood in my way.
One is that at 5'9", I am taller than the average male dancer and probably weigh about as much, too. Because of this, I probably would have given someone a hernia one fine day. Another is that I could never remember the routines and always had to follow the dancers in front of me or dance while looking at the group in a mirror. A third was that I couldn't tell the difference between the upbeat and downbeat, so I was usually in midair when everyone else was coming in for a landing.
The curtain on this chapter came down when the teacher insisted that I repeat Ballet II. I never did, and it was just as well because I had already run out of money by that point.
I also tried becoming a concert violinist, and even found a kind-hearted teacher to sneak me into her after-school program and lend me a violin. The problem here was my theory of musical giftedness. I figured that you either are, or you aren't. Thinking that I was, I cut down on my practice time, which made matters worse because I needed to see those colored pieces of tape on the strings to avoid playing the wrong notes. The teacher had other ideas about musical giftedness and made me give back the instrument.
I can now see how all this paved the way for my return to the judo world. One of the teacher's first acts, as I stood on the mat barefoot and gee-clad with that class 20 years ago, was to pair off each student with a partner of a similar height and weight so we could practice flipping each other and the like.
One day my regular partner was absent, so I paired off with a man whose biceps came up to my eyes. When it was my turn, I was polite, I acquiesced, and I flipped over easily. Yet when it was his, he affixed himself to the mat while I tugged at his arm. I finally got fed up and complained to the teacher, who told me that I would have to work harder. I finally did get him over, via an illegal judo move, meaning that I rolled him over my back.
But that was before the ultimate test.
During one of the last classes, the instructor lay face down on the mat and had each student somersault over him without so much as touching his firm and toned backside or rearranging one fiber of his gee. One person ran up and did it, then the next and the next.
As I was running up to him, I wondered how I was going to get over him without so much as putting my head anywhere on his body. By the time I got there, I lost my nerve and went over while placing my head on his derriere. I didn't think anyone else had noticed, but when I got to the other side of the gym, one of my classmates nudged me in the ribs and said, "Nice way to get an A." And I did.
And I've been thinking about taking it again because it's practical and something I could do.
Gail-Tzipporah Saunders is a San Fernando Valley writer. Fonte: Los Angeles Daily News - Los Angeles, CA, USA - http://www.dailynews.com/
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