How to Fight Like a Mom

This week is Guest Bloggers’ Week over here just like it is over on Fit Bottomed Girls. Join us as we rest our voices and let some other fabulous moms and knowledgeable experts take the reins for a few days! First up is Meadoe from Out on a Limb…In Running Shoes. 

I’m now the proud owner of a female groin guard. Prior to motherhood, I never knew such a thing existed. I never had a need for one. I purchased it in answer to the question, “Mommy, why aren’t YOU going to sparring class?”

How I could I look at that sweet face and tell him that I’m terrified to spar? That I am a big hypocrite? That while I’m always telling my kids to do things that scare them so they don’t miss out on something they love, I’m blatantly ignoring my own advice? I can’t. So, I went on an Amazon spending spree and bought all this gear that I NEVER want to put on.

We signed up for Taekwondo together. I went into it thinking of it as a way to work out and have fun with my family. It has been a lot of fun, and it’s wonderful seeing my kids gain confidence. When the kids learn something, they shine and that’s a great thing to watch. Still, many times, I’ve stood in class, dressed in my ninja uniform, wondering, “What am I doing here?” I do yoga. Why am I learning how to break elbows? In martial arts you have to be loud. You power scream. All the time. My kids took to this right away. I guess because “loud” is their natural state. I’m quiet. I had to search for my power scream.

It has definitely thrown me outside my comfort zone. For example, during one belt testing, it took me seven times to break the board with a jumping back kick. Seven times! Everyone else was done, and I was alone up there with everyone watching. It just would not break and all I wanted was to sit back down. I looked at my kids in the stands and I knew I wasn’t going to let them see me quit. After some mumbled cursing and a deep breath, I finally broke that board and everyone applauded. It was horrifying.

Although I love every other part of taekwondo, I don’t want to actually fight anyone. I’ve been avoiding sparring class like I would swimsuit shopping. I know it’s out there and I will eventually have to do it — but I don’t want to think about it and I certainly don’t want anyone to watch me do it. It scares me to death. But, when my son asked why I wasn’t sparring, I knew it was time to stop making excuses and mom up.

A few weeks later, the moment of truth had arrived, along with my shiny new groin guard, which might be the weirdest thing I have ever bought. I put it on and walked around the house to my kids delight. One of them kept calling it a “penis guard” and they both squealed with laughter. Naturally, they asked if they could take turns kicking me. Sure. Why not? It kind of feels like wearing a cardboard diaper, but it did the trick. Their little feet bounced right off. There was no turning back now.

Off to sparring class we go. My kids knew I was nervous and they tried to make me feel better by reminding me that it’s fun — like playing tag with your feet. They probably won’t kill you, Mom. Fun! With all the gear on, I felt like that kid in A Christmas Story — the one who can’t put his arms down. What am I doing here? This is madness. Chest guard, leg guards, arm guard, head guard, groin guard. It’s a lot of padding. However, I couldn’t help but feel that there was a part missing. Shouldn’t something be covering my face? Like a hockey mask? I’m terrified of getting kicked in the face. It’s my face.

Anyway, it’s a sauna under that head gear. I’m flop sweating and marinating in that padded cocoon as I wait for my turn. I glance over at the kids. They look adorable in their gear and they’re giggling and having fun. If a 5-year-old can do it, surely I can. Right? I nervously watch the clock, hoping class would be over before I had my turn. No such luck.

When it’s my turn, I go in with the only other woman in class. She’s tiny and fast and several belts higher than me and also the mom of two sweet little girls — probably not someone who would try to kill me. We bow to each other and it’s on. My only fighting instinct is to duck and cover, which is kind of difficult with all that gear on. We circled, dodged and kicked. Surprise! It’s really hard to breathe with a mouth guard. Shouldn’t there be a warning on the box? Anyway, I think my sparring partner suspected I was in over my head. The gasping for air might have tipped her off. We kind of danced around each other while she gave me pointers on how to get kicks in. Then, as I struggled to land a kick, she would effortlessly reach out and score a point. Even so, I was actually doing it. Mostly.

A match is 2 minutes long. You don’t realize how long 2 minutes is unless you are dodging kicks or doing a plank. Throw in panic and not being able to breathe and it lasts an eternity. Then, it was over. Overall, I don’t think I embarrassed myself too badly. I even managed to score an actual point. When the judges called the point for me, I may have put my arms up like Rocky. I don’t know. It felt good.

The best part was after class when my kid told me he was proud of me. Come to think of it, I’m kind of proud of myself. I’m definitely not Bruce Lee, but for a mom who was terrified, I think I did OK. I guess there is something to be said for taking what you have learned and applying it, in facing your fears and showing your kids you can put your money where your mouth is.

Being a mom takes us on all kinds of strange journeys. We put so much energy into our kids — helping them become who they are supposed to be. It’s easy to forget who we are and what we are capable of. We have to model the things we want our kids to be: strong, brave, kind. Sometimes, in the process, we find these things in ourselves. —Meadoe

Isn’t that fabulous? Meadoe says she’s since sparred in a tournament and didn’t get kicked in the head, her only goal. Goal well met, we say, and way to kick butt, Meadoe! —Erin