We had our self-defense test on Sunday, with me as one of the 'teachers'. Teachers is scorn-quoted because I'm not really qualified, I'm just the least worst choice. The first hour was a combination of philosophy and wrist locks, two of my favorite things, and flew by. After that...well, I became "Max", an assailant resistant (but not invulnerable!) to harm, and played the role of attacker for our graduates. Our graduates, by the way, were a middle-aged woman ("Ruth", not her name) who weighs perhaps 100 lbs. and her fourteen year old daughter, "Sara".
It began with me verbally assaulting our first defender, which I dislike intensely. There's something good-natured (generally) about a martial arts class, but for the tests the atmosphere is serious, and the verbal assaults need to test the defender--to throw her off balance, if possible. This need means that a certain crudeness is required. I heard Sara gasp at one point. Then I shoved Ruth, and thing got ugly. She tried to make me back off with a double-handed shove, but it lacked force. As "Max", I shouted at her (I think I said, "Is that all you got?", which just shows how one thinks in cliches at times like these) and threw a wide roundhouse punch that, in my defense, was telegraphed from a mile off. It hit her in the neck, just below the jaw, and Ruth got serious. She hit me in the thigh with a heel-stomp that would have shattered my kneecap if it had been three inches lower, even with the padding. My leg buckled, and she hit me in the side of the head with a horizontal elbow strike that had two-thirds of her body weight and all her will behind it. And she never let up after that, until I was on one knee with my arms up to protect my head, and she could run safely by. The goal was, thank Heaven, to escape, not to dismember.
Sara, having seen her mother become a fighting machine, had a standard to live up to (and surpass--there was a certain amount of competion between them). I, after five minutes recovery and a quart of water, was ready to go again. And much the same thing happened. Sara was able to get her body behind a double palm-heel strike that lifted me off the ground and threw me back an inch or so. With my footing uncertain, Sara hit me in the chest again, knocking me down (the suit limits one's grace and dexterity). Unhesitatingly, she slammed a knee into my abdomen, hit me in the chin with a palm heel, and ran off.
Now, reading this I see it reads as though the test were rather...uncontrolled. But the teacher would have stopped anything that had gotten out of control, and both Ruth and Sara knew which areas of my body were off limits (eyes, knees (that leg shot scared me, though), and groin). Even head shots were taken with due care.
After that, they both broke a board with their elbow strike, the same one tested on my head a few minutes earlier. Boards don't hit back, I know, but neither do many people after they take a blow like that to the head. Everyone had a pleasant time, except "Max", who got what he deserved.
