I wandered in Tuesday after work to square up my paperwork... and found myself slightly frazzled when they said "Oh we should be able to do that tonight" Tonight? Oh, yeah, I can come tonight... Really it wasn't a problem, I just hadn't been expecting it. I had also forgotten that the new schedule was in effect...
On that note I got my poop in a group and attended class. It was much larger than usual, with everyone returning from summer vacation... and before I knew it class was over.
My instructor looked at me with a flash of memory and said "Right! Beltest! We'll do it right now."
No big deal right?
Well the thing is that each belt level has a physical portion to it as well as the form and self defense techniques... and we'd just finished a class that lived up to it's place in "fitness week".
Despite this, I still had to do the fitness portion. The technique portion went really well, then she says "I think you have to do 35 pushups but I'm not sure, how about you start them and I'll go check."
The last five were so hard, all I could think about was Zorro doing his training over lit candles...
I finished up before she got back, and get this... She says "Oh you only had to do thirty, I guess you did five more than you needed to" *panting*
The final portion of the physical was 20 burpies, the demon spawn of a pushup and a jumping starfish. By this point my neurons had overheated and entered a higher orbit, hijacking all trains of thought and tossing them off the bridge into a gigantic chasm...
So when she said to do minus 10 of them, my brain seg faulted and I looked at her like she'd just asked me to suspend the laws of physics and demonstrate the theoretical. What she meant was do ten less burpies than the number of pushups you were *supposed* to do. My energy reserves depleted exponentially from 12 up, and you would probably have needed to be looking *very* closely to see any space under my feet for that final jump...
But I did it!
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