knives

I'm having an evening of inertia, the kind where I sit glued to the couch because in getting up I would inevitably start the chaos of doing all the things that need to be done before I head to Michigan.

I always kind of figure that I don't have to feel guilty about evenings like this if I started the evening with fighting class.

I remember from last year how the class dwindles in the week before Christmas. Everyone is off traveling or at parties, and so the instructor ditches the weekly scenario and we do knife fighting instead.

Knives are harder that you would think. I fully forget how to use them between every class that we have. You have to stand the right way, and move the right way, and hold the knife the right way, and it's not all intuitive. The result is always the same: tired legs and tired shoulders.

And by now we all should know that tired, when used with regard to fighting class, means quite painful. Somehow even now, 16 months into taking this class, I still find myself, some mornings after class, looking at the stairs up to my office in horror. I have to lift my legs high enough to walk up those?