I'm number TWO!.... yeah!

I competed in my first jiu jitsu tournament this weekend.

I won second place in the women's division. It was insane. I had not predicted how outrageously aggressive female competitors would be.

When I roll with men- they're competitive. But not...angry. And they don't WANT to hurt me, they just do by accident sometimes.

When the first round started, I thought "this woman is trying to kill me. Why is she trying to kill me?" and the I realized the difference between competition and class...and got my sh*t together.

It was so much fun! I submitted the two biggest girls in my division (like 4-6 inches and 15-30 lbs bigger than me). I had a draw match with the highest ranking opponent (a crazy judo-woman from hell: my first match) and a loss to the woman who went on to win gold.

I feel...
good. I think.

Dear Jenny

I had a moment;
As I leaned and watched blood
flow from my nose,
mix with my sweat
and into the sink.
Red on white.
I wished
that there were someone there
to hold my hair back.
And tell me "don't worry.
The blood will stop"

Oh and also? It would have been nice to have someone to help washing the blood off the walls. This dojo (not mine) has WALL PAPER. Blood doesn't come off wall paper.
God.

(It was a knee. In my face. I was on the ground- my head had no where to go... it's so tender)

Camoflauge?

In kickboxing the other day I punched the skin off my two contact knuckles. I had gloves on. But it was a 2 hour session, and I had some steam to work off. Now my hands look like I make a living fixing cars.
It made me sad, when the endorphins wore off. I spend most of my time being sweaty and looking wretched.

So.
In a misguided attempt to reclaim come of my femininity, I put on a dress.
Now I look like a mechanic in a dress.

Balls.