I told my friend he should hang out with NMP because I’d heard he had a black stallion. My friend got excited about that, but then I remembered the horse might be gone. “Did he sell it because of the divorce? ” I asked.
“I think he did. Unfortunately,” my friend said. I screamed. “You win some, you lose some.
”
We were at the gym, waiting for the toilet. Someone was taking forever in there, so I ended up using the male bathroom for the first time. It was clean, which surprised me. When I came out, I got blamed for a smell that definitely wasn’t mine.
“It wasn’t me,” I said. We moved to the mats to stretch. A tall woman named Danny walked by, and I greeted her. She was so tall I joked I could sit on her shoulder.
“Do you guys do MMA? ” she asked. “Yeah,” I said. “I told my friend T I was seeing you, and he warned me you’re a little unhinged sometimes.
”
She laughed. “I told them it’s something we have in common. ”
We chatted for a bit, then I got back to training. I hit the heavy bag, focusing on my kicks.
I explained to the camera that these weren’t standard Taekwondo kicks. They were meant to push an assailant away so you could hit their arm or face. In boxing, proper kicks make you vulnerable to falling over, so I was told to keep my feet planted. After working out, my kicks felt stronger.
I tried a sidekick, using the momentum from turning. I demonstrated a twist sidekick and a roundhouse. Then I attempted a flying kick, but I was careful because last time I did one at a school assembly, my shoe flew off into the audience. “I literally gave people free feet,” I said, cringing.
The running shoes I was wearing didn’t have much grip, so I was hesitant to kick hard. My back was hurting a bit, and I knew I’d be sore tomorrow. “Taekwondo coach is going to come for me,” I joked. I kept working on my left leg because it was weaker.
I hit the bag with my side, then my other side. The bag rattled on its chain. “Kia! ” I shouted.
I noticed a weird smell near one of the mats. “This smells like dog pee. I think a dog peed here. ”
It was probably someone’s dirty shoes, but it was gross.
I moved to the stretching area and tried to avoid it. While stretching, I thought about how people always assumed I couldn’t defend myself because I was nice. “People say, ‘Oh, you’re so nice. You must not be able to defend yourself,’” I said.
“But it’s not true. ”
I told the camera about my mom. She used to do Tae Bo, but she was a ballerina. I guess that’s where I got my mix of grace and aggression.
I kept stretching my back, trying to line up my hips properly. A guy walked by and offered some tips on my form. “Am I doing it right? ” I asked.
He adjusted the hinge position for me. I thanked him and mentioned I hadn’t seen my doctor in a while because my dad had been diagnosed with brain cancer, GBM. I didn’t have time to follow up on my own health. “It’s all right,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. “At least I can tell my mom I got some supervision. ”
He laughed. “You got a bit more supervision than you think.
”
I smiled. “Thank you, senpai. ”
I finished my stretch and stood up. My back felt stronger.
I thanked the guy again and headed back to the mats, ready to hit the bag one more time before heading home. I hit the bag, then paused. The inner girl is dangerous, I thought.
I just needed to remember that.
