Post by RENSHI on Feb 13, 2007 22:34:14 GMT -5
Testing Your Limits
How far are you willing to push yourself to obtain a goal?
It didn’t matter how fast I was breathing my lungs were still oxygen deprived. Lactic acid loosely leaked into my muscles, the burn was unbearable but I kept going, I had to. The sweat which drenched my hair dripped into my eyes, it stung and left my surroundings a blur. The sound of muffled encouragements was all I could hear, however the voice inside my head overpowered them saying, “Come on, you can do it! Stay strong! Breathe!”
Half a year earlier my sensei had told me that I was finally ready to grade for my black belt. He said that I had six months to prepare myself both mentally and physically for a six hour testing. I trained hard almost every day; went to the gym, stayed late after karate class to practice and still I felt like I could not prepare myself for what it was going to entail. Even though nervousness engulfed my every thought towards this fast approaching event, I could not help but thrive with excitement and anticipation. After all I had been taking karate for seven years and to obtain my black belt was a long term goal that I was only months away from achieving.
Those six months flew by faster than I ever thought possible. However the night of March 18, 2005 lingered like the pause button was pressed on my life.
Six o’clock sharp was when the testing began. Incredibly nervous, vulnerable, hesitant, but well prepared we stood on the line. Me, along with four other brown belts bowed graciously to the nine black belts before us as stepped into the unknown depths of our own spirit. We began with basics. Maintaining low, muscle fatiguing stances we did numerous blocks, kicks and strikes across the floor. I tried not to break my focus except I couldn’t help but notice when the black belts would look down to write something. Self doubting I continued to cognitively do the moves they requested. Periodically I glanced at the clock in disbelief of how slow the minute hand traveled.
There was no sympathy from the black belts; there faces expressionless like a grey sky. It was as if they couldn’t see the pain that was evidently reflected on our faces, and pushed us harder, in order to see it. My legs shook like there was an earthquake beneath me, and I squeezed my eyes closed in attempt to numb the pain felt in every fiber of my body. Beads of sweat ran down my face in a rhythmic pattern and I was almost dumb founded when I heard “Yemei (Stop)”!
A wave of relief washed over me. I took a drink of water to try and quench my thirst, but I soon realized that would take a lot longer than the 30 second break we had.
We were tested on Katas next. Power, pace, focus, technique; this is where it all came together and took form. We had to show the black belts that we knew our katas like the back of our hand. Already exhausted from the previous drills, performing the katas was particularly hard. We were told that if we made one mistake in a kata we would have to do it again, as many times as is took until it was nearly flawless. My feet moved automatically across the floor like performing a well practiced dance. I made an effort to deliver every move with as much precision and accurate power as I was able to. Surprisingly this part went by seemingly fast, but it was the sparing which was next that I could not brace myself for, no matter how hard I tried.
Sparing (fighting) could almost be seen as a process of initiation into the group of black belts. Like a gang you choose to be there. You know that you’ll only have to experience it once and then you’re in…. if you survive. The black belts lined up, each ready for their turn to spar us. By this time, even keeping my hands up to defend myself took tremendous effort. But it was easier and a lot less painful then taking a hit. Block the attack. Defend yourself. Counter hit. I was trying everything in my power stay tough, and not show the horrible pain I was in. One, two, three, four kicks to the ribs, I look back now and it’s almost comical that I paid for this! Surprisingly I don’t regret it.
When it came to circle sparing all of the black belts and the four other brown belts created a huge circle, they were all given a number. I was first in the center. Random numbers where called and I would face who ever entered the circle with me. I gasped for air and tried to blink the sweat and strands of hair from my eyes. I wasn’t sure how much more of this torture my body would be able to take. I was slowing down, dropping my loosely clenched fists, each of my punches weaker than the last.
“Come on Elora, don’t give up!”
“You’re doing great Elora. Keep going!”
Shouts of support and encouragement filled the room, not only from all the black belts, but the spectators too! Hearing them yell my name, letting me know they were on my side, it boosted my spirit, I was not alone. The adrenaline pumped through by body like a drug and all of a sudden I had no pain, my strength was back and for the first time in five hours I felt like I belonged. It was ironic to be supported and encouraged by the same people who had just fought me, but that was the test. They were pushing me, testing my limits, until I reached a breaking point.
That night I learned that the black belt testing was not only to test your knowledge of the martial art, but mainly to test your character. To know that I kept going when it would have been much easier to quit make me a stronger person. And I am proud every time I think about what I have accomplished.
Written by Elora Schad
How far are you willing to push yourself to obtain a goal?
It didn’t matter how fast I was breathing my lungs were still oxygen deprived. Lactic acid loosely leaked into my muscles, the burn was unbearable but I kept going, I had to. The sweat which drenched my hair dripped into my eyes, it stung and left my surroundings a blur. The sound of muffled encouragements was all I could hear, however the voice inside my head overpowered them saying, “Come on, you can do it! Stay strong! Breathe!”
Half a year earlier my sensei had told me that I was finally ready to grade for my black belt. He said that I had six months to prepare myself both mentally and physically for a six hour testing. I trained hard almost every day; went to the gym, stayed late after karate class to practice and still I felt like I could not prepare myself for what it was going to entail. Even though nervousness engulfed my every thought towards this fast approaching event, I could not help but thrive with excitement and anticipation. After all I had been taking karate for seven years and to obtain my black belt was a long term goal that I was only months away from achieving.
Those six months flew by faster than I ever thought possible. However the night of March 18, 2005 lingered like the pause button was pressed on my life.
Six o’clock sharp was when the testing began. Incredibly nervous, vulnerable, hesitant, but well prepared we stood on the line. Me, along with four other brown belts bowed graciously to the nine black belts before us as stepped into the unknown depths of our own spirit. We began with basics. Maintaining low, muscle fatiguing stances we did numerous blocks, kicks and strikes across the floor. I tried not to break my focus except I couldn’t help but notice when the black belts would look down to write something. Self doubting I continued to cognitively do the moves they requested. Periodically I glanced at the clock in disbelief of how slow the minute hand traveled.
There was no sympathy from the black belts; there faces expressionless like a grey sky. It was as if they couldn’t see the pain that was evidently reflected on our faces, and pushed us harder, in order to see it. My legs shook like there was an earthquake beneath me, and I squeezed my eyes closed in attempt to numb the pain felt in every fiber of my body. Beads of sweat ran down my face in a rhythmic pattern and I was almost dumb founded when I heard “Yemei (Stop)”!
A wave of relief washed over me. I took a drink of water to try and quench my thirst, but I soon realized that would take a lot longer than the 30 second break we had.
We were tested on Katas next. Power, pace, focus, technique; this is where it all came together and took form. We had to show the black belts that we knew our katas like the back of our hand. Already exhausted from the previous drills, performing the katas was particularly hard. We were told that if we made one mistake in a kata we would have to do it again, as many times as is took until it was nearly flawless. My feet moved automatically across the floor like performing a well practiced dance. I made an effort to deliver every move with as much precision and accurate power as I was able to. Surprisingly this part went by seemingly fast, but it was the sparing which was next that I could not brace myself for, no matter how hard I tried.
Sparing (fighting) could almost be seen as a process of initiation into the group of black belts. Like a gang you choose to be there. You know that you’ll only have to experience it once and then you’re in…. if you survive. The black belts lined up, each ready for their turn to spar us. By this time, even keeping my hands up to defend myself took tremendous effort. But it was easier and a lot less painful then taking a hit. Block the attack. Defend yourself. Counter hit. I was trying everything in my power stay tough, and not show the horrible pain I was in. One, two, three, four kicks to the ribs, I look back now and it’s almost comical that I paid for this! Surprisingly I don’t regret it.
When it came to circle sparing all of the black belts and the four other brown belts created a huge circle, they were all given a number. I was first in the center. Random numbers where called and I would face who ever entered the circle with me. I gasped for air and tried to blink the sweat and strands of hair from my eyes. I wasn’t sure how much more of this torture my body would be able to take. I was slowing down, dropping my loosely clenched fists, each of my punches weaker than the last.
“Come on Elora, don’t give up!”
“You’re doing great Elora. Keep going!”
Shouts of support and encouragement filled the room, not only from all the black belts, but the spectators too! Hearing them yell my name, letting me know they were on my side, it boosted my spirit, I was not alone. The adrenaline pumped through by body like a drug and all of a sudden I had no pain, my strength was back and for the first time in five hours I felt like I belonged. It was ironic to be supported and encouraged by the same people who had just fought me, but that was the test. They were pushing me, testing my limits, until I reached a breaking point.
That night I learned that the black belt testing was not only to test your knowledge of the martial art, but mainly to test your character. To know that I kept going when it would have been much easier to quit make me a stronger person. And I am proud every time I think about what I have accomplished.
Written by Elora Schad