I’ve started noticing something about my weeks. By Wednesday, I’m grumpy. I mean exceptionally grumpy. At first, I thought it was because I’m dissatisfied with work. By Wednesday, I’m ready for the weekend. Not every week is frustrating though and I still feel this awful anxiousness. This antsy-ness. I can’t keep still. I can’t shake this feeling.
By Friday morning, I’m happy again. Calm.
A few weeks ago, I started taking two classes on Thursday. I noticed in the middle of the second class, I was grinning like an idiot, frolicking around the gym like an elated puppy having her first off-leash experience at the park.
Esther, my partner, looked at me with surprise: “You’re so happy today!”
That’s when I realized the people at my gym don’t usually see me like this. By the middle of the second class, I’m usually prancing and smiling around my house. I’m trying to funnel all my energy into writing for this blog.
With Krav Maga, I have a place to blow off steam. When I get mad, I can’t push out that negative energy in a physical way. I love yoga, but it doesn’t let me be angry. They teach you control, breathing, centering yourself, mindful meditation. I love yoga, but I need to feel my anger and Krav lets you be angry.
With Krav Maga, I push myself. When I work out, I don’t sweat or work as hard. I do plenty of other types of exercise, but nothing makes me feel the kind of giddy relief that Krav does. In other non-Krav gyms, “tough” work out classes are nothing to me. I know I can do more. Krav Maga makes me do more.
With Krav Maga, I let the proper, polite lady I’m supposed to be take a break. This is probably the most important one. In Krav, there are expectations. You’re taught that on the street, walking to your car, coming out of the grocery store, “you take care of you.” But society is filled with silent social contracts. I’m supposed to smile. Be polite. Not say hurtful things. Even when someone is acting in a threatening manner, I have to fight the societal pressure to be polite. Not in Krav. In Krav, I get to be loud, obnoxious. I can make Amazon sounds. I can shriek like a banshee and it’s okay. Encouraged even.
So by Friday morning, I’ve let my inner Amazon out for two hours in a safe environment. By Friday, I’m happy because the me that needed let out got to punch and kick and roll around on the ground. It feels good and it’s turned me into a walking Krav Maga advertisement.