Tradition.
It hurts to sit down. It hurts to stand up. It hurts going up stairs. It hurts going down stairs. My quads and glutes are so sore, I am limping as I walk.
Last weekend was our annual Mo Duk Pai training camp. The theme of this year’s camp was Tradition. Naturally this meant we had the tradtional guts class: 1-1/2 hours of unrelenting physical training and psychological pressure.
I haven’t been training much lately and am terribly out of condition. I made it through the guts class, though my technique went to crap toward the end.
We also had the traditional 2am banging of pots and pans to wake everyone up for a middle-of-the-night class. At least we didn’t have the traditional, or perhaps merely mythical, beating of the underbelts with Arnis sticks to wake them up.
Camp was held at a Kiwanis camp on Mt. Hood. Even with several feet of snow, the weather was gorgeous. In a break from tradition, we got to play games in the snow. We had to chase each other around and try to grab socks we had tucked into our belts or waistbands. I tried to get away with tying my sock to my belt. If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying.
Also traditional, I smacked a very junior underbelt in the face during a fast speed exercise, cutting the inside of her lip on her teeth. She had never been hit like that before and was pretty flinchy afterwards, even though I stayed away from targeting her face.
My only injury, aside from muscle soreness, was a light sunburn from sitting in the sun, knitting during a break.
