Saturday

Hot
It's Saturday morning and I'm in my car and I'm driving to all-belts class and it must be 85 degrees already and I'm thinking "What the hell am I doing driving to a TKD class on a hot July morning?" I think I even say it out loud. But I pull into the parking lot and head on in.

The Voice
First thing I notice when I get inside is that it's cool! The big ACs must be on.

Second thing I notice is that things sound different from last week. I hear Master Hughes calling out instructions to the children's class.

Master Hughes has an amazing voice. He is beyond loud. His voice has this ringing quality to it--especially his "Cheryot" and "Kun Yeh" commands. They certainly make you take notice. I talked to him on the phone once when I called to find out about a make-up exam. I had to hold the receiver away from my ear.

But he's not just loud. There's something of his personality in his voice--a kind of generous joy that comes out in the way he speaks. There's just a different feel in the dojang now that he's back.

The Usual
It's the usual Saturday morning workout with Master Hughes, which means that there are some familiar exercises, some unfamiliar ones, and not always in the usual order. We begin with Chun Jee, move on to stretches, kicking practice, and combination kicking across the floor. We also work on punches and jabs, something I do a lot in sparring.

Cheering up
One of the children who comes in a bit late is looking grumpy while she stands in line for kicking practice.

Master Hughes notices right away and tries to cheer her up with a big hug. She starts to crack a smile.

"Hey Jane, come and hug her with me!" I turn around in our lineup and wrap my arms around Master Hughes and the girl, sandwiching her between us.

"We've made her into a sandwich!" I say. She giggles. Master Hughes goes back to teaching.

No Bruise
During the last part of class, we spar endlessly, in long lines, shifting partners after bouts of a few minutes. I begin facing Aimee, and we follow the instructions: "Just use one leg. Don't put your foot down." It's tricky. "I can't do a reverse kick!" says Aimee.

With each new partner, the instructions change. I make my way down the line until I'm facing Brian. By now, it's just "free sparring, light to no contact."

Sparring with Brian is like teasing a brother. Since we're both the same belt color and work together all the time, we are comfortable working out together, and sparring is fun. But Brian's a challenge. Unlike most men who are close to my belt level (and some who are above) who are strong but slow, he is fast and flexible.

"Go after him, Jane," encourages Master Hughes as he wanders by. "When he goes to kick you, that's your chance!" We all laugh and I keep in there. There's something about a six-foot tall police office fighting a 5'3" dancer that's hilarious.

Despite the difference in size, I think we're not too unevenly matched. But at one point, Brian's right foot makes contact with my left cheekbone. The blow makes me see stars ever so briefly. I yell, stop and bend over, hands on my knees, and breathe. Immediately Brian is at my side. "Are you OK? I'm really sorry."

The pain has already subsided after a few breaths, so I joke back to him: "Yeah, I'm OK, but if I get a black eye, you're in big trouble."

It must be tricky to be a man sparring with a woman, especially one smaller than you. You do have quite an advantage in some ways, and of course tradition says you don't hit women. Still, in sparring, you have to!

Anyway, I continue to tease Brian, telling him that he's going to be in trouble for kicking a poor defenseless ballerina in the face . . . until about his seventh apology, when I say "I'M FINE! Really. But if I get a black eye . . . !"

For the record, no black eye or even a bruise develops. (See Brian? I'm OK! Really!) I guess I have a hard head. Still, I'm thinking about a helmet for the future!

Attic
After class, I look for Master Hughes to pay him back for a bottle of water I got last week. He's talking with Justin. I give him the money.

"Hey guys, come on upstairs and see the table Mr. Carter built!"

Master Hughes, Justin and I go upstairs, through the children's classroom (a bright room with a padded floor for the Mini Ninjas, ages 4-6), and through a door at the side. We step into a dark attic area where rafters make the ceiling and heating ducts wind around us.

"Cool!" I say, walking around. Master Hughes punches on a board and it opens like a window, looking out over the dojang below.

We take a look at the saw table Mr. Carter has set up. The local building supply place won't cut our boards anymore, so someone will do it here.

Maybe I can get him to saw me some boards for my trip to Cleveland!

Not Bad
OK. I guess it's not a bad way to spend a hot Saturday.