Today’s soundtrack: But honeypie, you’re not safe here
Today at 1:32am: Eating some leftovers Yuka reheated for me. I miss the old days


On some day in 1998 the Sabumnim asked me to teach some techniques to a new student named Betty. Betty was overweight, clumsy, uncoordinated, and seemed to lack physical confidence. That first day that I trained her I figured she was hopeless.

Betty and I became friendly. For one thing she was Asian, for two she was a native New Yorker, for three she was a couple years older than me and for four she lived right down the block from me. I don’t get along with many people as easily as I do with Betty.

For the next few months I watched her come to class regularly, admiring her for showing up and working at it. Martial arts or dance or field hockey come naturally to some people, but this girl clearly wasn’t one of them.

Then I moved to Japan for a year. That’s another story.

When I came back from Japan, the sight of Betty shocked me. She had grown lean and wiry. She had surpassed me in rank. And on the mats she moved around with a surprising alacrity and grace.

Her kicks had grown strong, quick and precise. The first day I had to kick-spar The New Betty she made mincemeat of me.

Today at the dojang I kneeled on the side of the mats, watching a line of black belts do the rope-stick form. I watched Betty in awe, she’s so fucking quick and her forms are so tight. I heard a “tock” noise and realized Betty had accidentally caught some of the stick on her head, but I didn’t know where.

She finished the form (faster and better than the others, of course) and then I saw she was crying. But she held her ready position without flinching. The Sabumnim didn’t notice because he was watching the slower students, the ones who need help with the form.

He made the whole line do the form again, and in horror I saw a huuuuuuuge lump the size of a fucking walnut form on Betty’s forehead. She gritted her teeth and finished the form. The lump was literally the size of a walnut, almost a golf ball; I couldn’t believe the human skull could support such a protrusion.

Sabumnim made them do the form another two times, and each time Betty executed it flawlessly. But in the ready position I could see she was dizzy. The lump had split open and was bleeding. She covered it with her hair so no one would see.

Then the Sabumnim called the entire class (including me) onto the mats and put us through the paces. Maybe thirty of us. I was worried sick about Betty and although we were doing a very basic form, I fucked up several times, causing my Sabumnim to pause and stare at me in disbelief.

“YOU ARE SOMEWHERE ELSE,” he bellowed, in disgust. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

I wanted to tell him I was worried about Betty, but instead I mumbled “I don’t know, sir” and nodded as he castigated me.

Eventually the black belts on either side of Betty noticed her injury and forced her to step off the mats and get an icepack. She sat off to the side of class, dazed.

I’m so fucking proud of Betty, she is such a trooper. Getting hit with the rope-stick is like being hit with an iron pipe. To take a shot in the head like that and finish the form is difficult. To do the form an additional three times after that, flawlessly, is amazing. She even tried to continue with the rest of class.

Anyone can fuck up and catch a blow from their own weapon. But to take a shot like that and keep going shows true fucking heart. I wanted to tell Betty how much I admire her, and after class I started to but someone else interrupted me and I just let them. I’m not very good at saying that stuff. She knows me as such a sarcastic person that it will sound insincere. I don’t think she’ll ever know how much she inspires me. Because I don’t have any heros, you know?