(no subject)
Today, I had the pleasure of fluently exchanging blows. I love grappling, but sometimes one feels a longing to experience the primal nobility of pugilism. "Stand-up" sparring for me has become either a chase or a decisive loss. In the former case, my opponent refuses to engage and I'm forever running after him. My agitation is expressed in my technique, and I find my self overextending my strikes and making big, risky lunges, a quickly cementing habit. That habit does not help in the latter case, which typically involves a professional fighter schooling me. Today, however, was an even match. Evasions were tactical and aggressive rather than noncommittal and timid, and to extend the conversation metaphor, one clever turn of phrase was met with another.
Also today, I encountered a northern wrestler. When working a pommeling drill (fighting for "inside control," or hooking your arms inside his, not punching) at the beginning of practice, I noticed in seconds that he displayed those distinctly northern traits: bold but subtle action, a tight but seemingly effortless tie-up, unnerving sensitivity, and a seemingly bottomless bag of tricks. When I asked him where he learned to wrestle, he responded "Iowa." Hearing that, I made a point of keeping the fight up on the feet later in practice, which predictably proved futile. His stand-up and guard sucked, though.
Classes with lots of numbers really do fill me with abject terror. Well, the exams do. I find myself truant far too often because I'm untenably bored throughout, and I find myself thinking about how they say boredom kills. I can almost feel the apathy rotting years off my life. That absenteeism doesn't help learn physics or chemistry or what have you, which lends to the sensation that, when facing an exam, I'm almost totally subject to it's caprice. The feeling is like floating in a lifeboat on the sea during a hurricane, or on better days,a noble but suicidal charge into insurmountable forces not unlike the climax of "the Last Samurai." I'm actually doing fine in the class (physics,) but the foreboding persists.
Also today, I encountered a northern wrestler. When working a pommeling drill (fighting for "inside control," or hooking your arms inside his, not punching) at the beginning of practice, I noticed in seconds that he displayed those distinctly northern traits: bold but subtle action, a tight but seemingly effortless tie-up, unnerving sensitivity, and a seemingly bottomless bag of tricks. When I asked him where he learned to wrestle, he responded "Iowa." Hearing that, I made a point of keeping the fight up on the feet later in practice, which predictably proved futile. His stand-up and guard sucked, though.
Classes with lots of numbers really do fill me with abject terror. Well, the exams do. I find myself truant far too often because I'm untenably bored throughout, and I find myself thinking about how they say boredom kills. I can almost feel the apathy rotting years off my life. That absenteeism doesn't help learn physics or chemistry or what have you, which lends to the sensation that, when facing an exam, I'm almost totally subject to it's caprice. The feeling is like floating in a lifeboat on the sea during a hurricane, or on better days,a noble but suicidal charge into insurmountable forces not unlike the climax of "the Last Samurai." I'm actually doing fine in the class (physics,) but the foreboding persists.