Tonight, I will test for my Cho Dan, or 1st degree black belt, in the World Tang Soo Do Association. As part of our preparation, we take a written test (up to twice, if needed; I passed on my first attempt… both times) and write a thousand words about Tang Soo Do.
I failed my sanity check and wrote it as a poem. Enjoy!
Twas two weeks before Dan Camp when my teacher and friend,
as I was leaving the dojang after a fabulous class,
asked “Are you testing this cycle” Thus the planning began.
Was this a thing I could do, could I make it and pass?
If I test in September, and again in the spring,
I would visit Tikal as a new Cho Dan Bo.
Pre-Testing next Dan Camp could be a real thing,
But I found in October one goal had to go.
January’s test is usually late,
So we relearn what holidays help us forget.
Last year it fell on my own birthdate,
Testing so soon would be a close bet.
With regular practice and no real chance to rest,
Was I being too ambitious or just slightly insane?
I gave it my all, I gave it my best.
My knife skills were iffy; my shoulder, in pain.
My breaking was lousy, I can’t say that’s new.
But my one steps were solid, and I knew all my forms,
I was happy to pass and then learn Sip Soo.
But how did I reach this point that transforms?
When Cassandra, my daughter, had turned almost four,
we went to the fair to enjoy rides once again,
stopped at some booths, thought about them no more,
till a phone call came in, we stopped to think then.
Was karate something she wanted to try?
It’s truly hard work, not like Kung Fu Panda,
while really quite fun, Po’s too goofy a guy,
earning a black belt’s more than Hollywood propaganda.
Her first class looked great, she had a fabulous grin,
When I look back at it now, I see many a friend.
Some still do karate, others have left it since then,
I didn’t know yet that our hobbies would blend.
I promised her when I saw the first buddy week,
I’d try it with her, take my turn on the mat,
I didn’t know then that my body would speak,
to say my appendix was a bit of a brat.
I woke up that Christmas in a hospital bed,
worried in two months for my stair climb,
ninety-four flights up I would tread,
forty-some minutes was quite a slow time.
I sat three more months with my books or my hook,
crocheting or reading as she learned some new skills,
watching the classes my daughter partook,
while I thought about crafts and paying the bills.
Winter became spring, as May rolled around,
I was invited to class, to my delight and surprise,
not just for a week, a whole month I had found,
celebrating mothers with some pain in my thighs.
There was pain in push-ups and again in each crunch,
though I’m flexible enough, I always could kick.
I found there’s no pain in one single punch,
unless there’s a board or even a brick.
I know that my desk job does me no good,
sitting all day is hard to offset.
Needing more exercise, I understood,
karate was something I could not regret.
Training beside that cute smiling face,
spending time exploring one steps together,
driving towards one or other new place,
these are things that we would certainly weather.
I trained most of a year, and at a regional event
saw Grandmaster destroy a piñata with skill,
after our demo teams to great lengths had went
to show their moves, devotion, and will.
The next spring was a setback, unfortunate for me.
It would not quell my passion, this thing with my shoulder,
I pulled something wrong when cutting a tree,
it felt more like I had lifted a boulder.
Six months I sat out, sad to just watch,
knowing it would take time to achieve,
the skills she would learn as she stepped up a notch,
knowing my health would give no reprieve.
On the plus side I’m older, I had a clear goal,
she wasn’t quite six, she was quite content
to learn something new, she was on a roll,
as a Little Dragon, she made her ascent.
The next summer, my health again wasn’t that great,
I wound up in therapy for pulling my hip,
I sat for two months, as it messed with my gait,
and acquired a walking stick on our road trip.
Two thousand fourteen was a year full of jaunts,
Disney, Hawaii, and Guatemala anew,
some were a first, some were old haunts,
this time though, my skills travelled too.
With some consternation and also great joy,
after extensive searching and some interview pain,
I quit my old job for a new employ,
not working at home, but still, quite a gain.
The downside I found was I had a commute,
the length of which would not let me teach;
the earlier class I would overshoot,
the later classes just in my reach.
As time went on, I found my job shifted,
I bought a new house, left for an earlier drive,
the timing restrictions were happily lifted,
I could plan out karate, make sure I arrive.
I knew by this point that I do like to spar,
and I’ve come to enjoy even hapkido.
I’m not quite the addict that my instructors are,
that may be a change I yet undergo.
It took some time, moving’s always a mess,
and a birthday piñata claimed some of my time,
my first Prep class helped me obsess
on the skills I would need to advance my belt climb.
October added another workout,
bimonthly, with black belts, all of them skilled,
I gather there could be a larger turnout,
the space we were using is nowhere near filled.
The day crept closer to the August pre-test,
one skill, then another, I learned on the mat,
with time to spare, I completed my quest,
Ninety one-steps were learned, some fell a bit flat.
There was just one month till the test in the Dells,
just enough time to refine and improve,
and appear before judges with no whistles or bells,
working hard that day to make them approve.
Three days before, a crash dragged me from the mat,
my car was totaled by a distracted pick-up truck.
The doctor said your concussion will prevent testing for that.
Between the diagnosis and car shopping, I was stuck.
At Valpo, five months later, I pre-tested – again,
enjoying myself despite a horrible cough.
I’m ready for April, it’s time to ascertain –
can I break two boards in this final face off?