When my hips first went, I was working on my red-black belt, specifically on the spinning jump back kick. I felt a twinge in my joint and knew I could not by the dear laws of physics envision my foot going through the board. It was over.
That was in San Diego, the dojo out on El Cajon. I made one more attempt, at the martial arts place next to the Ashby Vault Cafe in Berkeley. Nope. My membership turned into a scholarship donation for the kids.
For years I've been told: Hey you need to do T'ai Chi instead!
I didn't want to do T'ai Chi. I wanted to yell and break things.
Until now. Lockdown moves in mysterious ways. I'm on the second floating hand movement, incorporating the arm motions into my old yoga routine.
Repeat 100 times to become habit.
I got time.
20 APRIL 2020