Tiger Muay Thai, Day 8
Well, in all the excitement of training I've managed to sprain both my ankles.
Hooray! It's honestly not that bad, they're both only lightly sprained, probably from the stress of all this new activity. I've gotten a total of 3 leg massages from my trainers, with a boxer's liniment which is basically just pure menthol.
Note to self: DO NOT SHAVE YOUR LEGS BEFORE GETTING MASSAGED WITH MENTHOL.
But the trainers are all being much more aggressive with me when we train, which is great. It means many things, not least among them that I am improving and they can tell.
Today I got to spar with both Trainer Sohn (who I found out today is 17 years old and has already fought over 200 fights), and Trainer Robert, who was really tough on me. "10 more kicks!!"
"10 more kicks" would quickly turn into 30 more kicks. Oy vey.
But it struck me today how little time I have left. I have barely done anything touristy, or gone to the beaches much, seen the Phi Phi Islands, honestly I've barely left the gym at all.
I would like to see elephants before I go, but beyond that, I think I'm pretty on-track.
Saw Master Dahn today, who greeted me with a huge hug and loud, "Sassa!!!" I love my nickname. I love it so much. I have little jokes now with all the trainers. Most call me "Sassa," Trainer Nu calls me "Chan Zuwaai" ("Very Beautiful", and we then do a little fake-sexy dance), and Trainer Sohn will come spar with me when the rest of the class is doing shadow boxing. Trainer Nazee, who lent me his guitar, has a special handshake which he taught me. Trainer Moo, who had taken me to task for goofing off too much last week, greeted me today with a beaming "Sawadee Khrap!", shook my hand, and gave me a manly chest-bump.
I love my trainers like crazy, I truly do.
They're also pairing me with other boys in the class now, which they weren't before. I never felt it was a sexist move, more pairing people of like-height and like-strength . . . also because Muay Thai is a pretty full-on body contact sport, and inter-sex parings can get a little . . compromising. So usually a trainer would work with me, or if there were other girls in class, other girls. Though this week, it's been only me.
But I'm just amazed by what my body can do so far. I can do 200 crunches easy now (I don't do the lay-flat on the floor, keep your feet down, and raise your torso all the way up super-crunches the trainers do, but still!). And 100 push-ups? No sweat, even if they are still the girly kind where you use your knees. 9 rounds of sparring and bag work? Grueling, but I can do it without wanting to sit down on the floor and weep like a girl. GO SUPERNEGAM.
The other Americans, quite honestly, leave me really cold. The trainers will let us out of an exercise if we're hurt (I didn't jog today because of my ankles), but if we're just slacking, you're in for at least 10 pushups, sometimes another 100. I actually heard another student say today, "Look, I'm here to learn technique not to exercise a whole lot." This, from someone I have literally never seen at one of the technique classes (there is an optional 30 minute technique session before each full training session). I just heard him outside of the dorms, and heard the words "the government" and also "the people" dropped into conversation with that special combination of casual and douche that only the Americans have yet perfected.
Another, a younger guy, has a slightly better attitude, but he's way lazy. Out of shape is one thing, but the guy just doesn't seem to be here to learn. Everything is half-assed. Also has yet to come to a technique session. Why are you here?
I think that's one of the reasons the trainers glom onto me the way they do (also because I'm a girl, with boobies, I know this). I may be a pasty, chubby, unfit American who can only make it to one session per day, but I give it all I've got when I'm there and don't whine about it, and only duck out of an exercise if it's really beyond what I can do.
The rest of the class is largely made up of Europeans, pretty much all of whom have a very dedicated work-ethic. Sadly though, my preferred group of hardbody English eye-candy has been moved to the intermediate classes, damn them!! But ah well, I got to drill today with a lovely gentleman from an as-yet-unidentified-European-country who was trained in Aikido. We helped each other out with the drills, it was great.
I've finally encountered my first negative outside influence. A hulking German who asked me out last night (I said no as politely as I could, and then ducked away when he went to find a light for his cigarette), has been now hanging around the beginner's area while I'm training, hulking around at dinner when I'm there, just generally hulking around. He won't make eye-contact or start conversation, which is a mixed blessing. Yay for not having to make conversation but boo because HELLO CREEPY.
Anyhow, tomorrow a monk is coming to bless the camp, so I have to be awake by 7am. Night!!
Hooray! It's honestly not that bad, they're both only lightly sprained, probably from the stress of all this new activity. I've gotten a total of 3 leg massages from my trainers, with a boxer's liniment which is basically just pure menthol.
Note to self: DO NOT SHAVE YOUR LEGS BEFORE GETTING MASSAGED WITH MENTHOL.
But the trainers are all being much more aggressive with me when we train, which is great. It means many things, not least among them that I am improving and they can tell.
Today I got to spar with both Trainer Sohn (who I found out today is 17 years old and has already fought over 200 fights), and Trainer Robert, who was really tough on me. "10 more kicks!!"
"10 more kicks" would quickly turn into 30 more kicks. Oy vey.
But it struck me today how little time I have left. I have barely done anything touristy, or gone to the beaches much, seen the Phi Phi Islands, honestly I've barely left the gym at all.
I would like to see elephants before I go, but beyond that, I think I'm pretty on-track.
Saw Master Dahn today, who greeted me with a huge hug and loud, "Sassa!!!" I love my nickname. I love it so much. I have little jokes now with all the trainers. Most call me "Sassa," Trainer Nu calls me "Chan Zuwaai" ("Very Beautiful", and we then do a little fake-sexy dance), and Trainer Sohn will come spar with me when the rest of the class is doing shadow boxing. Trainer Nazee, who lent me his guitar, has a special handshake which he taught me. Trainer Moo, who had taken me to task for goofing off too much last week, greeted me today with a beaming "Sawadee Khrap!", shook my hand, and gave me a manly chest-bump.
I love my trainers like crazy, I truly do.
They're also pairing me with other boys in the class now, which they weren't before. I never felt it was a sexist move, more pairing people of like-height and like-strength . . . also because Muay Thai is a pretty full-on body contact sport, and inter-sex parings can get a little . . compromising. So usually a trainer would work with me, or if there were other girls in class, other girls. Though this week, it's been only me.
But I'm just amazed by what my body can do so far. I can do 200 crunches easy now (I don't do the lay-flat on the floor, keep your feet down, and raise your torso all the way up super-crunches the trainers do, but still!). And 100 push-ups? No sweat, even if they are still the girly kind where you use your knees. 9 rounds of sparring and bag work? Grueling, but I can do it without wanting to sit down on the floor and weep like a girl. GO SUPERNEGAM.
The other Americans, quite honestly, leave me really cold. The trainers will let us out of an exercise if we're hurt (I didn't jog today because of my ankles), but if we're just slacking, you're in for at least 10 pushups, sometimes another 100. I actually heard another student say today, "Look, I'm here to learn technique not to exercise a whole lot." This, from someone I have literally never seen at one of the technique classes (there is an optional 30 minute technique session before each full training session). I just heard him outside of the dorms, and heard the words "the government" and also "the people" dropped into conversation with that special combination of casual and douche that only the Americans have yet perfected.
Another, a younger guy, has a slightly better attitude, but he's way lazy. Out of shape is one thing, but the guy just doesn't seem to be here to learn. Everything is half-assed. Also has yet to come to a technique session. Why are you here?
I think that's one of the reasons the trainers glom onto me the way they do (also because I'm a girl, with boobies, I know this). I may be a pasty, chubby, unfit American who can only make it to one session per day, but I give it all I've got when I'm there and don't whine about it, and only duck out of an exercise if it's really beyond what I can do.
The rest of the class is largely made up of Europeans, pretty much all of whom have a very dedicated work-ethic. Sadly though, my preferred group of hardbody English eye-candy has been moved to the intermediate classes, damn them!! But ah well, I got to drill today with a lovely gentleman from an as-yet-unidentified-European-country who was trained in Aikido. We helped each other out with the drills, it was great.
I've finally encountered my first negative outside influence. A hulking German who asked me out last night (I said no as politely as I could, and then ducked away when he went to find a light for his cigarette), has been now hanging around the beginner's area while I'm training, hulking around at dinner when I'm there, just generally hulking around. He won't make eye-contact or start conversation, which is a mixed blessing. Yay for not having to make conversation but boo because HELLO CREEPY.
Anyhow, tomorrow a monk is coming to bless the camp, so I have to be awake by 7am. Night!!