This week is "bring a family member to class" week at Robby's Taekwondo studio. I wasn't terribly thrilled with the idea of abandoning my perch in the spectator row, but Robby seemed excited and and determined that I participate. Last night I dug my work out clothes out of the bottom of my dresser drawer, smoothed out the wrinkles and went to Taekwondo with my ten-year-old.
I love that the fact that I'm an amputee never
crossed Robby's mind as a potential excuse for my not participating.
Parents were invited so he assumed that I would and that I could
participate. He was more concerned with my ability to keep up with the
class because of my age, an accusation I interpreted as a gauntlet. Pain
and fatigue be damned, I was not going to be out performed by my
I can't say that I enjoyed class, but I know that Robby
seemed to love the novelty of my being there. While I was concentrating
on staying erect, Robby was giggling and encouraging me to continue. The
forms and exercises are certainly more labor intensive than they look
from the comfort of the spectator seats. I was prepared for the class to
be tiring, but I was caught off guard by the difficulty level. After
actively participating, I have a whole new appreciation for the skills
that Robby is mastering.
My moves were clumsy and my punches were
off-center and weak, but I never gave up and I kept moving. At the end
of class, Robby congratulated me and told me that I made him proud. I
guess this old woman still has a trick or two up her sleeve.