I'll just indulge in a little self-congratulation now - at karate tonight I whomped one of the guys in the chest with a cracking roundhouse and dropped him like a sack of spuds. Potatoes that groan and gasp in pain too.
True, I did feel really bad about it at first - no-one likes to maim their friends. Well, not by accident at least. But once he got his wind back and it was apparent that no permanent damage was done I felt much better about it. While he is 'only' a brown belt, he's at least 3 inches taller than me and a good 25 kgs heavier (funny how I still do height in feet & inches but weight in kilos, eh?).
I'm beginning to feel like my karate is getting back on track. Finally. After nearly a year of dental fuck-ups and no kumite (translation: biffo) the last few months have seen my fighting move from glacial slowness to stunned mullet through epileptic chicken and now hovering around dangerous epileptic chicken (frothing at the beak).
I may not quite have my eye in as yet but the enthusiasm and blood-lust are there. I managed to stay in the fight with my sensei most of the evening. Right up to the point where he cracked me across the face with a hook kick. I swear he had both feet on the ground at the time.. He had his DV camera there this evening so that's been immortalised on film. Yay.
Unfortunately my roundhouse was off-camera so all that there is to prove it is a thwack and a lot of groaning.
Next training is on Saturday arvo so more updates then, if I still have the use of my hands..