Tonight it begins.
The culmination of 3 years of training.
Three years of sweat, bruises and cramped muscles.
Starting tonight I'll endure the first candidate training session which will push my mental, emotional and physical capacity to the limit. Mr. O will scream at me. Mrs. H will give me her death look. There will be push ups. And wind sprints. Kicking. And mitt work.
And after I've wolloped a body shield with everything I've got, my instructor will scream in my ear: Again! Harder! Again!
I'll have to dig deep and leave everything on the floor every Friday and Saturday until November 7th.
Am I terrified? Hell, yes.
Am I excited? Sort of.
I've packed my gear bag with more nervousness and attention to detail than when I packed my hospital bag during my first pregnancy. Inhaler? Check. Water bottle? Check. Running shoes? Check. Sparring gear? Check. Training manual? Check.
I'm going to watch a kung fu movie and do 40 minutes of yoga this afternoon to finish preparing.
Legend tells of a legendary karate student whose karate skills were the stuff of legend.
I'm no Dragon Warrior. I'm a no Crouching Tiger. But November 7th I'll be a Black Belt.
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