It's not kung fu if I don't get gimped up.
Due to a wicked work schedule, I’ve been out of training for several weeks. I was able to get to a Saturday sparring class at our sister school only just this week. Wouldn’t you know it, I manage to get myself gimped up.
I was having myself a great time sparring with an underbelt when I executed a left spinning hook kick. Which he blocked. With his knee. In my calf. Hard.
Instant Charlie-horse. I immediately rubbed it out as best I could. I tried putting my weight on my left leg until I felt I could move at least a little. Which is to say, not much.
Back to the sparring and I mostly just stood there, defending myself and looking for my partner’s vulnerabilities when he committed.
I iced up my calf as soon as I got home. Driving was no fun. Shifting was a bitch. I downed a couple ibuprofen, the martial artist’s best friend. I also downed a couple vodkas, the martial artist’s other best friend.
Now my left calf is like a little grapefruit and I am gimping around with a cane.
Gawd, it’s good to be back.
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