Star of Courage

"I think I may be a little anemic," I said to my husband the other night. "I almost fainted during my karate class."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Well, maybe I'm not getting enough iron. I haven't been eating my bowl of cereal each day, you know, the one with the 50% of your daily minimum requirement of iron?" In Month 12 now of the year of Nothing with a Face (my year as a vegetarian), I had to admit that it was entirely possible that I might not have a perfect blood test next month, no matter how diligently I have been "studying" for it for this whole past year, and no matter that this is the first time I have felt the slightest bit anemic.

"No, what happened in class?" he clarified.

"Well, I was doing that punch combo--jab, cross, hook, upper cut--with a partner and then the chief instructor came behind me and started pelting my head in order to force me to keep the fist up that wasn't currently punching. He kept hitting me on the sides of my head and chanting, "It was a darrrrrrrk and storrrrrrrrmy night. It was a darrrrrrrk and storrrrrrrmy night. My entire body oscillated like a washing machine."

I took a breath.

"And then when it was my partner's turn, he kept twirling around me as I held the pads for him to pummel. He went so fast, in such a tight circle, that I felt like I was in the teacups at Disney."

My husband looked at me incredulously.

I continued for the thrilling conclusion of Pattie Gets Beat Up at Karate Class, "And then shortly thereafter, the room started spinning and I dropped to my knees and sat the rest of the class out."

My husband, the sage, finally asked, "And you think you felt faint because of low iron?"

Okay, okay, maybe not. Maybe my brain was simply tossed around too much that night. But I have been a little low on the dried apricots and I did have anemia during my second pregnancy, so who knows?

Maybe I'm a little nervous about the blood donation. But you see the star in this photo? At our karate dojo, when a new student starts, he or she gets this Star of Courage at the first class. When I started training in karate a year and a half ago, I asked for my Star of Courage.

"That's usually just for kids, Pattie," I was told.

"If I walk out there on that mat, I am not walking off without my Star of Courage!" I replied, and I stood and accepted it proudly when the instructor called my name to come up and get it.

We should all have a Star of Courage. It actually makes a difference.

Oh, and for those of you who ask, "Why on earth are you even doing this?" my first answer is, "I have no idea." But my real answer is because both my daughters train in karate also (they are far, far ahead of me) and this seemed like a good way to build a bridge to them during a time when many kids and parents lose connections. And it has certainly fulfilled that objective, many times over.

Final answer? Because it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable--I don't feel at home on that mat at all. The classes are at night, and I'm a morning person. I hate group classes. I hate working out indoors. And I'm not so dreadfully competitive. Yet, especially as I "settle in my ways" as I get older, I see a benefit in putting myself in a situation that shakes me up.

Although maybe not so much!

Star of Courage