ow

[lula_vampiro]

Three Tuesdays ago, my dōjō started our monthlong series on offensive attacks. That day we mostly practiced punching. Too few people had remembered to bring focus mitts, so we resorted to our more usual practice target of "each other." I partnered up with a black belt for a jab exercise which involved coordinating the small fast muscles in your arm and shoulder to connect a light, fast, low-commitment whipping jab that was extremely difficult to defend. Each turn he and I punched each other twenty or thirty times in the chest before switching off. For most of the exercise we were distanced just slightly too close to each other, so that instead of striking with the single hard and instantaneous impact into which we eventually refined the attack under sensei's direction, our fists were hitting flesh just a centimeter or so short of full arm extension, covering the remainder of the distance with an urgent drilling motion into loath-to-yield muscle as it brought our arms to their full and proper alignment. Incorrect though they were for the exercise at hand, they were the most painful punches I have ever received, and my torso was all kinds of colors I've never seen on skin before until … okay, the bruises aren't even gone yet three and a half weeks later. It was an important mistake to make, probably, on the way to getting the punch right.

So I just finished reading The Magicians by Lev Grossman? That's pretty much how it felt.