Hangtime’s blog

This past weekend, our dojo hosted our annual Traditional Tournament. This tournament differs from every other tournament in that it's closed, correctness counts, it's little more relaxed and the judges are BRUTAL. If you've read some of my previous posts, you're aware that I wasn't looking forward to competing. As far as I'm concerned, divisions like kata and weapons for a first degree competing with 2nd, 3rd and 4th degrees was a wash. At that rank, you've been doing the material longer, your technique is more refined etc.

Boy did I ever get lucky.

At our tournament, black belts *randomly select* their kata from a bag and perform it on the spot; weapons are drawn at random but the competitor selects the form. If you lose your balance, drop your weapon, mess up or forget, you automatically get a zero.
Weapons were up first and I drew nunchaku first. My gut reaction was "Sweeeeeeet!". The only weapon I'd taught for the past few weeks was Shodan requirement for nunchaku, I thought it was a lock! Then I broke the ice on earning goose eggs. I hit the third turn and totally forgot what I was doing.I was smart enough to not move or make it immediately obvious that I forgot --after about 6 seconds of standing motionless,  in what could have been a quite epic kata, I made a face, and that was it. I bowed out amongst jeers of disbelief from the black belts behind me. I felt a little vindicated afterwards however: the next to competitors that drew nunchaku scored zeros as well. The only person to finish with nunchaku won first place.

Next up was open hand. I was totally nervous about open hand as I've been trying to be more precise in all of my strikes and more "correct" in my stances...wholesale changes like that rarely transition beautifully. I watched quite a few competitors (I was next to last) in my division do absolutely great, then it was my turn. All I could hope for was Tenchin, because I knocked it out of the park about three days prior. It was even better, Seisan, my favorite open hand kata. I was so shocked by the good fortune that I knew for sure I was going to mess it up. I thought about every time the stars lined up (looking Picklez directly in the eye, blue tape on the floor, or a combination of both) I screwed up. I knew Picklez was behind me and the ring (you guessed it) was marked off in blue tape. I was doomed for sure. I took three deep breaths and proceeded to look right through everything. I didn't see faces, I saw bodies; I heard trees rustling, I was in the zone. When I got my scores, I was little disappointed...I'm not sure why, but then again, I wasn't paying attn to the other scores, so I didn't really have a right to be. Scores were tallied, 3rd place. Not bad, but I still think it was luck of the draw.

Later on was point sparring, also known as "The only game of tag you'll ever play where you're likely to get hurt". I did pretty well. First match was lights out; best point sparring I'd done since I was a yellow belt. Second match I approached like a semi knockdown fight --I knew he had something up his sleeve, it was a matter of being patient. I found myself in the first/second place match --nice, especially since I HATE POINT SPARRING. I lost a close one, but it was a very good match with 3 E's: Entertaining, Exciting, Enjoyable. I received many complements on my sparring.

Little known secret: I managed to tweak the tendon in my left foot in point sparring. Why won't the damn thing heal? It's been like 3 yrs now. Any who, I digress, next up Semi Knockdown fighting. I was a heavyweight again this year (I got a slight reprieve last year because there were only 3 lightweights..I say slight because Dub-D was one of them and he hits hard) and had to fight a gentlemen who is pretty much *the* fighter in our style. He's big, he can take a punch (and throw a pretty mean one), he's an intelligent fighter and he's quick for a big guy. I wasn't intimidated, and I don't think he expected me to be.

I have a chip on my shoulder about big guys. I'm always outweighed, and I hate being bullied...this was not the guy to have that chip with. I got a lot of advice, some of which wasn't all that feasible given the condition of my foot:
"Stick and move Hangtime" --> gee thanks, but I knew that already.
"You can't fight toe-to-toe Hangtime, circle, circle" --> Yup, I was aware...
"Kick the legs Hangtime" --> What fight are you watching?

Any how, there was one highlight of the fight for me, which quickly turned into the end of the match; after throwing a few blows without retaliation, I realized he was trying to intimidate me by showing he can take a hit; what I think he doesn't know is that I knew that already...I also think that he doesn't know that I can be a really big smart ass, so I engaged him: two punch combination to the chest @ 60% power, then two to the solar plexus @ 80%...

...you're expecting two more at 100% right...WRONG, knee kick somewhere around the breast bone/solar plexus (I was aiming for the latter, but moving backward it's hard to get one right on target...) to which he aptly responded with a flurry of punches followed by a sweep and follow up; he managed to get part of my foot --OUCH! A few more sweeps and an inside leg kick and time was up. No brainer, he won.

At the end, the "Dojo Champion" was announced; as if there was any doubt, our dojo won; there's something to be said having the tournament in your own backyard.

All in all a good day. There are definitely things I need to focus one and get better at, but I can't say I'm the least bit disappointed about the day as a whole. Read Picklez post #200 for the hilarity that ensued afterwards; fun times had by all (even Overboard).

Now on to the fun stuff
In this post Picklez commented on my potential status as a "legend" in martial arts; well, I think legend indicates something far greater than one can set out to achieve; it's something earned, don't get me wrong, but you don't wake up and say "I'm going to make myself a legend". However, one can make moments in their life memorable. Those memorable moments can add up to becoming legendary, however it's a status bestowed not taken. I personally do not see myself becoming a legend in martial arts, our style, or even our dojo. Case in point; only I would make a comment like "he's having a Hangtime-like testing" (and yes I have said this about 1 student recently), but no one else would think of that. I say all of that to say this, I don't need nor really want to be a "legend" in martial arts; just knowing I took a medal over my fourth degree sensei is enough for me ----OOOOOOOOHHHH BURN, you like that don'tcha. </gloat>

Have you ever had a dream that seemed so real, it's surreal? I had one last night that freaked me the hell out.

I don't remember all of the specifics, just the very end. I was asleep in my bed, with Overboard to my right; everything is just as it was when I went to bed. My perspective in the dream was where I laid, and everything was very calm and quiet, as one would expect at that time of night. Suddenly, I heard a noise, but I could not determine where it came from; the noise was loud enough to wake me up, but not Overboard. I laid in bed trying to go back to sleep when I heard a creaking noise coming up the stairs. I continued to lie still, hoping Overboard wouldn't wake up; then I noticed a shadow move, then a noise for the spare bedroom. Overboard continued to sleep very soundly, but I was a little more alert, fully awake and honestly, scared shitless. The shadow then turned into something tangible; it had a shape, it had movement, the figure then moved into the bedroom. I tried to remain still in order to get the jump on the figure as it moved closer, all the while hoping that Overboard remained asleep. The person got within arms reach, but I couldn't move; it got closer and closer, as if to check if I was sleeping or awake; I could feel my instinct saying "GO GO GO, HIT HIM", but I couldn't manage to make the move, the figure got ever closer, but I could not make my move. At about this point I woke up and I was extremely rattled. The room around me is as it was in the dream; Overboard was still asleep to my right, just as she was in the dream, I could hear someone drive through the neighborhood, splashing as they went...

The dream was so real, I almost got up to check the house, just to be sure.

-HT

Competition Update:
Nope, still not excited yet.

Yesterday, Overboard and I did something I don't think we've done since we've started dating; we did karate together. Surprising that I don't take advantage of having a Nidan at my disposal, but honestly, we just don't have time. It was fun and the experience kinda made me reminisce on my days as a yellow belt receiving one-on-one instruction. It's hard to believe that the tournament is less than a week away. I'm still not excited per se, but I have a feeling that "CM" isn't going to show up, but Hangtime...in other words, someone's going to get a run for their monies.

We point sparred in class last week and I had a blast. It was a change of pace leaving class after having sparred and not feeling like I just got pounded on. As much fun as it was, I'm not looking forward to "tournament tag" because I feel like I could take someone's head off with my best "tag" techniques. Picklez and I talked about it, I still don't have a warm and fuzzy. I just don't want to spar with someone I really like (which is probably a 99% guarantee at our tournament) and pop em one really good and turn something fun into warnings about attitude and contact. Semi-knockdown I have mixed feelings about.

Wedding Plans:
I really think I am in the worst stage of it all right now; groomsmen gifts. I hate gift buying. While I know that no one is going to say "You idiot, this is the worst give ever!"....wait, my mom *has* done that before --not using those same words-- but she did eventually give the gift back to me), but I digress. I hate shopping for other people. That and the point/meaning is a small token of appreciation and every time I look it turns into a "Christmas-esque" experience. I set a price limit, and it seems like the items that I say "...well, that would be a good gift...", it's way more than the set price limit, which I refuse to stray from by more than $5.

Otherwise, the next thing is tuxedo fitting. I don't need to get all of the guys together for this, but I think it might be kinda nice to turn it into a "manly" event. Overboard and the girls are having a "Bridesmaid Luncheon", which I don't really want to do, but if I could do a "Groomsman Kegger" I think it'd be fun...at least until the hangover kicks in. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do.

New Year's Resolution
One of my resolutions was to be able to do a few pushups (I think 5) with Overboard on my back. I think I am pretty close. The first step was to lose a little weight myself and not feel like my arms are going to separate from my body while doing one...

<tangent> I for the life of me could never figure out why I can lift weights etc with no problems but then feel like crap doing a push up. It's terrible....</tangent>

I've made 50 push ups and 100 ab reps my workout warm up. I have a hope to someday take on Mr. Tu's challenge of 300 a day...not very likely however. For grins and giggles, I did a few "modified" push-ups this morning, above my normal 50, to put a little more bodyweight onto my arms. I did about 25 in just under 30 seconds, not too bad. I think I could probably bang out five...I just might give it a shot.

Stay Fly,
Hangtime  

I've blogged in the past at how coworkers do things that agitate the shit out of me when it comes to "common" things: going #2 then leaving the bathroom door completely sealed off afterward, using their hands in a bowl full of snacks, etc.

This one kind of takes the cake...er, muffin, as it were.

A coworker provides a rotation of breakfast-type items every Monday; this week, it was muffins --the big ones you can find in the Sam's Club bakery. Usually on "Muffin Monday's", the diet conscious folks will usually split a muffin into fourths.

I just witnessed..."witnessed"...a coworker take the last fourth of a muffin and leave the wrapper and the plastic knife used to cut said muffin in the box. She stood right over the box, took the muffin, ATE IT, STOOD THERE WHILE CHEWING and walked off.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You passed a damn trash can on your way OUT of the room!! how difficult would it have been for you to take the wrapper with you and toss it...wait a sec, you passed TWO, count em, TWO trashcans. What the fuck is wrong with you!

Sorry dear readers, but I had to get that off of my chest. Yea, I could get it off my chest with said coworker, but come on, we're talking about grown-ass people here. This woman is probably close to twice my age, that's not a conversation I should be having with someone that age, hell, it isn't a conversation I should be having with someone HALF my age.

Whew, that felt good.

-Hangtime

I've been struggling for weeks whether or not to write this blog, but honestly, no harm no foul.

For the past 4 or 5 years or so, I looked forward to "tournament season". Working on a kata to near perfection and making people sweat at the thought of being in the same division, being faster in "tag" (point sparring), and displaying that size is, in fact, not an advantage when it comes to fighting and all of the kudos etc that go along with competing.

For some reason, this year, I just don't care.

I am smack in the middle of planning a wedding, I'm a shodan now, which means, it's an "x" man race to third of fourth place, behind all of the third and fourth degrees in my division (luckily, Picklez and Latino Heat are getting old and will be moving up in a year or two O-: --yea, I went there), and my focus as far as karate goes is on making sure other students are doing their best. I am so totally unmotivated about competition, that it's sickening to me. Pressure has nothing to do with it; I don't feel any, but I don't have the "killer instinct" that (I think) I'm known for. I even seriously suggested purposely dropping my weapon, for the sake of not having to do the kata. Fight training is not as fun as it was in the past, nor is it a priority to me. I don't know if it's the wedding, the rank, being burnt out at the thought of competing, knowing I'm out matched or what, but if it's down to waking up @ 5am to train or sleeping in, I'm sleeping in.

This lack of motivation isn't across the board in terms of training, I'm very motivated by testing in January, and even more so than normal because Overboard and I will be Mr. and Mrs. Hangtime, and she's aiming to be ready to test then too. I just can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's that my focus is on the wedding, and in September, I'm going to want to hit the ground running for November (Dothan), but I can't say...I just don't know.

Fighting Knockdown in July is not going to happen, and fighting Semi is just not as...sexy...to me any more --> am I going to fight Semi, who knows; am I seriously going to train for it, nope. No desire to.

In closing, I guess this was just to get it off of my chest. Overboard and I have talked about it before; I think she finds it kind of odd too. She shrugged it off, but I could kinda tell by the look on her face she found it weird. I guess we'll see what happens September 1...after the honeymoon.

-HT

While I missed the mark of 7 hours and 100 miles, I did a quite impressive 4h 6m and 66 miles. Not bad. I'm still thinking about April...

While at the gym at couple of days ago, I started thinking of a grueling-yet-attainable workou0t goal for the month.

Because that workout (and most others) was cardio, I figured the goal should be cardio based; here's what I came up with:

7 hours of cardio minimum for the month. In addition, 100 miles of total cardio.

How this can be accomplished;
SIMPLE!
* Based on past results, I can complete 2 elliptical miles at a near "sprint" pace in about 16 minutes; a more relaxed pace is a 10 minute mile, thus if I complete 3 total elliptical miles a week, that's 26 minutes (in one week).
* 8 miles can be accomplished in 30 minutes (give or take) on the stationary bike; if this is accomplished 3 times a week, that's 90 minutes and 24 miles (in one week)

A one week total is 116 minutes, and 27 miles; multiply that by 4 weeks, 464 (nearly 8 hours) and 108 miles.

Wish me luck!
Hangtime

**Edit**
Week end 3/8:
30 miles/90 minutes

Week end 3/15:
8 miles/30 minutes

Week End 3/22
14 miles/59 minutes

3/23 -3/31:
14 mi/66 min

The only real motivation for this post is Sherapova's experience with a high school literature teacher. Although I attended a Catholic High School, this bitch was the devil. After reading, you'll understand why.

My senior year hell actually began my freshman year. I was encouraged by my eighth grade guidance counselor to take Honors English; she felt that I would do well in that class and it would look good as far as colleges go. I decided to give it a try, signed up for school and HE9. Then, I got a packet in the mail for summer reading; "Summer Reading? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!!!!" Any who, I underestimated the necessity to complete the novel and didn't have it finished before school started (and, I lost the book for about 2 weeks). After being busted out on having not read the book, the teacher, Miss Bacha, decided for the rest of the year she was going to make my life hell; this included:

• Sending a progress report home stating I did not complete my homework, which was not true. I ended up on punishment, and out of anger, did not complete that nights homework. That's when she stated she was referring to that incident (huh? No, shit, seriously!) and used it *later* to justify the comment.
• Proceeded to degrade me in front of the entire class for not having been taught something in my elementary education; she stated in the time that the class began the exercise and it got to me, I should've been learning it; it took all of a minute before it got to me.
• When class scheduling time came around, she looked me directly in the face (while addressing the class) and said "...if you are a B, borderline C, student in this class, I will not recommend you for HE10."
• At a P/T conference, she appealed to my mothers love of poetry to derail her before she got a chance to get to the bottom of why I was always upset over the class <--I don't totally blame Bacha for this; Annie shares equal blame.

Anyhow, fast forward to August 1998; I'd received mail from the school --it could only be one thing in such a small little envelope (well, two, but since it was summer, it wasn't a progress report, lol)-- my schedule. I happened to have been on the phone with a friend at the time and opened the schedule and searched for mistakes....

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

I couldn't control it, I couldn't change it, and it wasn't a mistake. I had the same teacher AGAIN for English 12...not Honors 12, English 12. I rushed off of the phone because my eyes had welled up. It wasn't anger and I can't quite say it was fear...it was somewhere between fear and disappointment (Yea, I did actually cry...and threw a shitstorm of a temper tantrum too). I had to take this vile bitch AGAIN and THIS TIME MY DIPLOMA AND ALL OF MY COLLEGE HOPES, DREAMS, AND ASPIRATIONS, were on the line.

Fast forward to first day of classes: We walk in and she assigns us seats --not all bad, one of my closest friends was seated right next to me and I had a few other good friends scattered around the room. One thing to note here is while we were being arranged, she said "...welcome back Mr. Mattison...surprised to *not* see you in honors...why is that" to which I responded with "...because, I didn't get a recommendation for HE10...I left it alone at that." <--those of you who *really* know me, know what tone that was in.

Any who, she handed us a syllabus, and explained how we would be graded:

1. Vocab/homework/reading assignments = 50% of our grade for the year.
2. The other 50% consisted of a paper due at the end of the year. This paper was divided into research and the actual paper, both of which had milestones at the end of the quarter.
   
1. If you fail the first milestone, the second will suffer and you'll likely fail the second, thus, you fail the semester (and the class).
   
2. If you fail the second milestone, your paper will be incorrect; thus you fail the second semester (and the class).
3. If you fail to properly site your sources, you fail the paper (and the class).
   

And she actually made the statement "...I am going to make this as hard on you all as I possibly can. I fail at least 3 people a year (looking at me) and this year I'm casting a wider net." For the record, I aced her class. And, as much as I hated her, she worked wonders for my freshman year writing classes.

Today is Valentine's Day; St. Valentine's Day, to be exact. I could go into how this day became a phenomenon, but I won't...actually, I will --Hallmark.

People all over the world are gushing about being in love or grumbling about being single. Personally, I don't see what the big deal is."Why?" You ask.--simple; if you're that friggin' in love, you should be the other 364* days of the year.

Without giving too much away, everyone's asking "so, what are you and Overboard doing for Valentine's Day?" I give them my modest answer and everyone looks shocked. Then I have to explain to them why my plans are as modest as they are. I don't chose one day out of the year to tell Overboard that she's the center of my universe; I pick several random moments throughout the year to let my Lady know she's special. Why do I need to impress everyone else? Answer: I don't.

Furthermore, people get elaborate on Valentine's Day because they're after something: I have what I want. I kiss and hug the love of my life every single day; I tell her I love her at least twice a day, we kiss/hug her before parting company. And while every relationship has it's bumps in the road, I let her know after that bump that there is no one else in God's creation that I'd want to go over that bump with.

The best gift I could ever give Overboard is not flowers, (because she gets them at random times anyway...and not just on birthday or anniversary), or a piece of jewelry (because she has one of the two that remind her EXACTLY how I feel about her --and she's probably looking at it now), or candy --well, I might just provide some chocolate to ensure Hangtime Survival-- or fancy dinners or anything like that; the best gift I can give her is to let her know as often as possible that I love her more than words could ever express.

In closing, gentlemen take heed; kiss, hug, communicate, laugh and enjoy the special woman in your life --believe me, no greater gift can be purchased from any florist or jeweler.

Happy Valentine's Day Sweetheart, I Love You!
-Hangtime

*365 in leap years

Yesterday and thus far today has been one big *sigh* of relief (except the issue surrounding airsofting on Saturday, which I will find a solution to).

Normally on Tuesday's I go to karate; I did not go yesterday for several "administrative" reasons, including the laundry monster which not only consumed my "Manatarium", but the bedroom and also spilled out into the hallway. I needed to slay that monster, and in fairly short order (especially since it was part of the "pls don't get mad for play airsoft 2 days in a row..." treaty). I took care of this; there's a more manageable amount (1 load) in the dryer, which can be knocked out easily. I also began cleaning off my desk; things get lost there. I have a bunch of stuff to shred and a bunch of stuff to file.

Also last night, a neighborhood committee met; while I'm not on this committee, I thought it would be good to go and see where things were headed with this group; if nothing else, it's ammo for when they yahoo's pipe up at the next meeting --> I can make comments like "well, jackass, if you were there, you'd know that..." without recourse. **side note** there are quite a few neighbors that enjoy my blunt nature. Actually, it's moved some neighbors to elect me to the board...I'll let ya'll know how that goes after next month's election...

After the meeting, Overboard had awakened from her slumber. I asked her to accompany me to Target. On the way she told me that her employer handled the issue with her coworker and Dickhead in a very classy way. Basically, they sent all of the traveling consultants home early and told them all to call their agency to see if they should return to work the next day. No confrontations, no awkwardness, and the hostess doesn't have to worry about retaliation. I feel better knowing that if Overboard ever had a situation with a coworker...well, that wouldn't happen because I'd probably have to bail *her* out of Fulton County if someone tried something like that. But Overboard also told me that her coworker had a nightmare about the incident, and has had friends stay with her/walk her home, etc since this all happened; I'm glad she's being smart. I'm trying to stay on board with the "...you did the right thing Hangtime..." assessment, but if the situation bothered her this much...that's not to say that I doubt that I've done the right thing but it certainly adds another variable *if* I were to reevaluate the situation (I do not plan to...no worries).

After the trip to Target and Publix, Overboard and I returned home. I really needed to cut my hair and shave. I don't think I'll ever be used to this shaving business. I miss the days of once a month shaving...I miss the days of not shaving at all even more. The most noteworthy thing about this is I think I look more like "myself" now more than at any other point in probably the last year.

We both got to bed around the "normal" time of 10:30; two very out of the ordinary things happened:

• Overboard forgot to set her alarm...
• The USB cable that charges my Blackberry wasn't fully plugged in; thus the battery died.

As a result, both Overboard and I overslept until about 7:30. I'm usually either gone, just about dressed (if I go to the gym by the house), or still working out (if I go to the gym by work) and she's well into her day by this point. I think we freaked out at first, then we calmed down. It was kinda nice, we were both refreshed, relaxed and ready to head into our day.

Be soley,
Hangtime