Jasmine: Qualifiers

Today was qualifiers.

It was the last possible qualifier before nationals. For reference since there seem to be many… many national karate competitions, this is the United States Karate Alliance Nationals Competition. In order to compete at nationals you have to qualify at any number of competitions around the year. This was the last one. And the only one since I joined Karate Club.

Now for the information of the masses. I did not want to compete at nationals. I’ve been doing Karate for three months. One of those months I didn’t go to as many classes as I would have liked. There were lots of tests involved in that absence. And Doug. Stupid Doug. Keeping me from my karate brethren. Yes. He is a terrible human being. But because of that, I didn’t and still don’t feel ready. I feel weak. Unprepared. I don’t want my ass to be humiliated in the name of a sport I actually like. But my sensei, Soke, said I was competing. And so I am. Because Soke is god. Or at least one of the more powerful ones out there.

So I’m already freaking out over it, and I end up missing Wednesday practice because I’m oozing bodily fluids, saving lives really, so I can pay for the damn thing. And I was stupid and went too late in the day. And there were lines involved. It was just a bad thing. Anyways I wound up not being able to go to Wednesday practice which I really needed. It would have made me feel much more confident than I was and may have fixed some of my technique issues. Whatever those were.

The three of us were competing: Caroline, a tall, very strong girl who has kicked me in the face in the past. Luanne a medium height girl who has punched me in the mouth in the past, I like them both very much. And me.

We drove to the competition together. Me singing random old songs from the radio at the top of my lungs trying to stay pumped, them mumbling the parts they knew and looking somewhat frightened at me. I ignored them. My brethren need to be subjected to my singing as often as they can. It toughens the body and the mind for nationals.

Got there, registered, paid literally blood money, warmed up and took our seats.

The competition is ordered by age division. Tiny people go first. The dragon something or other group. They were all seven and under and absolutely adorable. My children will do karate if only so I can coo at how cute they look standing there looking terrified at the judge as their belt comes undone. Though watching the parents slam the sparring head gear onto their kids heads makes me wonder how many of the kids want to do it for themselves or if they’re just there because their parents want them there. Not judging. My daughters will take martial arts. I will also burn any barbies that come into my house. Even if they belong to the neighbors. We’ll do it in some ritualistic sacrificial way so as to be educational. Yep. It’ll be fun. You’re all invited to the barbeque.

The wee ones finished, then the slightly older, still mostly uncoordinated ones, then the mostly coordinated ones that can actually do damage to each other, did kata and fought. And then it was our turn. The three of us spent the time we weren’t staring creepily at the children of over protective parents, wondering who else was in our division. And whether it would be belt based or age based. Were we the only three? Would we be competing against only each other? This was good right? This meant that we would qualify no matter what right?

The rules state that in order to qualify you have to place top four at one of the qualifying competitions. In the case of our division it turned out to be white belts through yellow belts women. Men are far too different to spar with their different parts and over aggr… I don’t know they just separate us. There were four of us competing for the four top spots. Needless to say I qualified. Not exactly happy with qualifiers, but I qualified.

First mistake: they called my name first. I wasn’t ready. We lined up and I was second in line, but then they called my name. and I was all shit… and I went up. Stated my name, style, and kata. Jasmine Travis (dur), Koryu-ryu, Shoshin Shodan. Then I started. That was my second mistake. I should have backed up a couple of paces before starting. Because my kata is very long in the forwards direction. So when I got to the point where I was starting to run into the tape I freaked out. And had to do some creative dancing with my feet to not fall out. Very saddening. And a mistake I wouldn’t have made had I not gone first. Fail. Suck. Hate.

Things that went well. Other than that fault and being a little hesitant early on. They liked my kata. One of the women came up to me afterwards and told me so. The whole time she talked to me Soke just stared. Apparently we look alike enough for him to stare. She’s blonde and my height. Other than that I see no resemblance. But men… oh well.

We didn’t spar. You only had to qualify in one of the events. We all qualified in kata, no reason to spar. I wanted to spar. I’m a much better at sparring than I am at kata. But it was better not to chance injury. Blah.

I took fourth out of four. I’m pissed. I’ll practice. I’ll do better. But I’m still pissed.