The Gaping Gi

It's another flashback Friday! More lore from the judo archives.

Originally posted: Tuesday, February 19, 2002

I attended my third judo class last night. Good news: my gi is in! I had been practicing in borrowed clothes for the past two weeks while my outfit was on order, but now I have my own heavy white cotton ensemble. It’s blazing white, the sure sign of a brand-new beginner. No more geeking around in pants that barely reach past my knees even after slipping down over my hips! Now my very own pants slip down far enough to show the Victoria’s Secret stitching on the waistband of my undies, but at least the hem reaches my ankles. Don’t worry, though; thanks to the long jacket, Victoria’s secret is safe with me.

But I do have issues with that drawstring arrangement. While my boyishly uncurvy hips may be an asset under other circumstances, like fitting into airline seats, they don’t do diddly for me when it comes to keeping my gi pants at cruising altitude. I can’t say my T’ai Chi pants, with their elastic waistband, would be any better, though, during the elbow-drag exercise. Guess I’ll just have to tie a tighter knot. The third-graders in the dressing room will probably have some suggestions.

So I’ve got my own gi now. That was one good thing about the class. The other was meeting my alter ego, another woman named Kim. She’s a little taller than me but a little slimmer, and a little older. She’s a white belt who’s been in the program for a few months but was out the last couple weeks with a finger injury. I’ve worked with a few other women partners in T’ai Chi, but not on the more aggressive pushing hands techniques. In judo, I had only thrown and grappled with men. So I was delighted to find another woman anywhere near my size, age and experience level in the class. The fellas are fine, but especially when it comes to matwork, it’s usually only a matter of time before they overpower me. Squaring off with Other Kim, I found myself facing a fair match for the first time. It was refreshing. I hope she keeps showing up on Mondays.

So I got exposed to a couple new throws — and probably exposed myself to them as well, since one’s gi tends to gape after a few grabs — and reviewed the ones I’d seen before. Thanks to T’ai Chi, I have a good sense of balance and am less likely than most to fall victim to a foot sweep by another beginner. Sensei, of course, can dump me on my keister any time he feels like it, but it’s nice to see some skills translating.

Then came wrestling practice. Judo is famous for its dramatic throws and crash landings, but matwork — what happens once the throw is completed — is just as vital to the art. This is the area where I have the least experience, so it’s always the most interesting to me. Other Kim and I learned some very practical things from Sensei Carlos. The most useful, I thought, was to sit back and observe while Sensei demonstrated pinning techniques on O-Kim. He’s got a gut the size of a VW Beetle and basically just crushed the wind out of her until she stopped struggling. Sometimes you really don’t need any more finesse than that.

Speaking of no finesse, let me say a few words about the mat. Many dojos cover their floors with mats of padded canvas or foam rubber. My club has plenty of foam rubber padding for the bottom layer, but it’s covered with light-blue indoor-outdoor carpeting, the kind you might see on the deck of a boat. Yowch! It’s cushy enough, but very rough on my tender bare feet. I ended up with a postage-stamp-sized square of mat burn on the top of my left foot at the base of the big toe — exactly, it turns out, where the instep of my shoe wants to rub every time I take a step. When I got to work this morning, I had to hit the receptionist up for a Band-Aid, then nip into the ladies’ room and strip off my hose to apply it. I’m hoping my skin will toughen up soon.

In other, non-martial-arts news, I’m growing my hair out. It’s a slow, aggravating process, but a change whose time has come. In all the dreams I’ve been having lately, not only do I see myself with long hair, but often I spend special time and attention on trying to pull it back in a ponytail. This is a Sign of some sort, and I’ve chosen to heed it. If that’s the way my inner eye sees myself, my inner fashion consultant must be trying to tell me something. Next, I’m going to try to persuade my inner eye to envision me winning the lottery. Think it’ll work?

Today around the world: March 25 is Good Friday for a great many people and Bandaged Bear Day in Australia.