In second year of high school, I was beaten up by a girl in my class. I had to wear a neck-brace and stay off school for a week, because my neck muscles were so stretched, I couldn’t keep my head up. I won’t mention the other reasons I needed to feel stronger, able to “handle myself” and why I decided to start Martial Arts classes.
When I was in my mid-twenties and still in my “Angry Young Woman” phase, I’d sporadically gone to the local Lau Gar Kickboxing Club classes, which were held at my old High School. Somehow, I managed to pass my White Belt grading several months later, despite not remembering exactly what to do; my “opponents” had to remind me and kindly helped me out during it. I stopped going because I couldn’t afford to pay for the license which I needed to continue the classes. I also completed a great session in Self-defence around about the same time.
I moved to nearby a leisure centre in Edinburgh in 2009, when I was 33, and started going to the gym pretty regularly. In 2011 I heard about the Krav Maga classes there on Thursday nights and procrastinated for several months before I decided to go. The first night I went along, there was only one other woman and loads of men. I remember thinking I might meet “a nice guy” but that wasn’t my main reason for going.
I tried to walk into the hall with an air of confidence and sexiness, without appearing desperate, and I could taste the testosterone in the air as I nimbly sat on the mats on the ground. I sparked up a conversation, probably about the weather, that being the classic icebreaker. None of the guys seemed too keen to get into a chat, so I just shut-up and waited to be told what to do by the instructor.
We warmed-up for 10 minutes, a standard warm-up, then we stretched. The instructor came over to me and I could see him sizing me up. He was a petite, slender man with big brown eyes. We started to gently spar and I kept my eyes on his, easily countering his moves. He said, “Don’t look at my eyes, look here” he touched the top-middle of his chest between his pecs then said, “You can see more of what your opponent is about to do if you keep looking at their chest.” I laughed and said “Yeah right” embarrassed because I was wearing a tight vest top that showed quite a bit of cleavage.
He was probably telling the truth, but the way he laughed and looked at my chest made me doubt him for a few seconds, however we kept sparring for a while until he instructed us that we were going to be “strangling” each other and learning how to get out of that hold.
When it was my turn to grab, I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but the instructor wanted it to be realistic, and kept telling me to put more pressure on. I really didn’t enjoy it to the point I wasn’t sure if I’d go back. I thought about it for a few days and concluded that at least I’d learned how to get out of a stranglehold, which could be useful, so I realised it would be good to learn more self-defence techniques, and I decided to go back the following week.
I was the only woman this time, which made me feel partly glad and partly scared. We warmed-up then stretched. The instructor was particularly keen this week to show us all how he could do the splits, and what we had to do to improve our flexibility. Surprisingly, despite my own reasonably good level of flexibility from having gone to dance lessons from the age of 4 ‘til 13, and the fact there were a couple of very attractive men in the class, I didn’t feel compelled to show off.
Stretching over, we were paired-up so that we could practice wrestling techniques. I really didn’t fancy my chances against any of this lot, but when I got paired up with another petite, slender man who said he was 72, I thought I might have a chance. We started off tentatively, not wanting to hurt each other, I mistook his caution, 10 seconds in and he’d pinned me. He said “I’m older and weigh less than you, it’s all about technique”
‘Well, I want to learn that technique’ I thought, still slightly dazed. It all happened quickly after that, and I had no time to think. My second opponent was allocated. He was another petite and slender man but about my age, said he was new too so I thought ‘Ah Ha I might have a bit of hope of pinning him’, which I did after a minute or so of wrestling about. I felt pretty chuffed but hoped I’d not hurt the guy. He got up ok, so I obviously hadn’t, which was good.
OH NO!! The third guy was HUGE!! Tall, and muscley, I had no chance. It only took him a few seconds to pin me across my abdomen, and he seemed quite comfortable keeping me on my back for a few seconds longer than was entirely sportsman like. I didn’t go back after that, but still go to the gym regularly, I want to maintain that “BRING IT ON!!” feeling when I walk along the road on my own. Obviously, I really hope I never have to use my Self-defence experience in real life, but I’m confident and hopeful I’ll deal with the situation well, should the need arise – hit back hard, then run away, is the advice that’s given. Time heals, it can also make you stronger, if that’s what you choose to do with it.