I like kickboxing and I want to fight in a league match!

I don't like violence but I like watching the fights sponsored by my local dojo. Today, I took my son to watch a bunch of fights including one fought by one of his karate instructors, Tequila, who kickboxed for 5 rounds for a title match. My son admires this 22 year old soon-to-be college graduate. The feeling is mutual. Tequila calls my son "the Lion" due to my son's nobility and strength, so described by Tequila who said he wished my son was his. Tequila may also stay with us this summer because he loses his housing the end of May and may have job opportunities in the area as well as an upcoming black belt test in September.

Tequila fought a gracile, graceful man of Turkish descent. The Turk was elegant in his moves. Beautiful manoeuvers:, glides and twists and ducks, feline-like. Beautiful boy with slinky moves. Tequila is of Italian descent. Handsome, ruggedly strong. All American stick-to-it-ness. Each boy trading punches and kicks. Offering parries and blocks and fast moves. A delicate blur. Poetic. I want it. For me.

I want to fight in a league fight before I am 50. This may happen sooner than later. This morning, I went to a sparring clinic. Coach, one of the referees for the fight between Tequila and the Turk, asked me after class if I was serious about fighting. He told me he only coached people who were serious about fighting but would coach me if I was serious. We could meet after classes or on Sunday afternoons. I said I would maybe ready in 3 years. Coach said a year or less. He'd tell me when I was ready. Wooo. I do want to fight. I don't care if I loose. Coach likes this. Likes it even when I say don't really know much about sparring but will do any thing I am told because I want to learn this martial art. He really, really likes that. Wants to work with me. Man. Wow. I am excited.

Also, after my sparring clinic this morning, Tequila said to one of his girl groupies, "I like this lady. She is raw. She is fierce." He said he liked this about me. He told me I always seemed so happy after sparring. I am. I said. I love it. He said that made him happy to hear. The groupies tittered at his flattering the middle-aged broad. But I am happy. Nothing does as much for my mental health as sparring. Even more than kickboxing while I love violently fierce.