The beginning of week 2!!

After revelling in my renewed strength on Monday, I figured I could do 3 classes a day. Then Tuesday morning hit me. And it looked rather a lot like the mat.

 Tuesday was special in the same way that Friday was special. It was my second ever training in Doshu's class.

Since I'd started planning my trip here, I'd been wondering if I'd be able to attend Doshu's classes. I was told I could watch in the beginning and then figure it out later. So I decided to watch on Thursday morning. I went to class and sat in the back . Doshu's demonstrations are fast. He demonstrates a technique four times and that's it. Then you practice. He started the class, setting a pace with shomenuchi iriminage, and I watched as people threw each other down in the space of about 2 tatamis, not more.

And Doshu passed by. He corrected a few people. He practice in a bit with one pair. He moved on.  I continued to watch. People were practicing at all speeds. The main thing was maintaining the practice, not stopping.

 And Doshu passed by again. He worked in with the same group, joyfully splatting and pinning his ukes into the mat. At that point, I already knew that one of the students was one of the ukes he demonstrates with.

It could be age.

It could be the fact that I spent the past week recovering from a slight head cold (the musings about which I'll save for another entry).

Or it could be that I've succumed to the environs of Sunny Southern California and lost all tolerance for temperatures outside of that 10 degree range of about 63F - 73F.

Because I cannot see how people can make it through two classes back to back!!!!

So far it's been enough for me to haul my body back to the changing room to stand under the shower watching the steam wisp off my shoulders for a good 7 minutes. Granted, I have also managed to go salsa dancing after, but that was way after, not 30 minutes after.

I've spent this week trying to get used to what my body wants of me. The further along I've gotten, the more the list has narrowed down. It's getting to the point where I need like five gallons of water and a salt lick. 

So I've taken up eating lemons. Not a slice here and there with my cup of tea, whole, entire - I cut them into wedges and munch on them in front of the tv while the other hostel residents watch with raised eyebrows - lemons.

Yes. Of all the things.

This goes under that category of there is a reason for everything. So although the official reason I was not allowed to join the regular 3pm class was that I was in Hombu's databse as third kyu and so probably not competent enough to join anything but the beginner classes, the real reason was so that I could stumble upon a hidden Tokyo gem!!

After being turned away at the door, I walked in an appropriate downpour, trying to find a place to kill two hours. That place wound up being a Japanese version of a Chinese restaurant, whose Chinese influence extended slightly past the decor into my pot of tea, but not the price of said pot. 

And here I just have to comment on the music. Not simply why someone would choose to add to the ambience of their restaurant with arrangements of Disney tunes played on what sounded like a celeste, but why there is an arranger on the planet who would agree to writing it, or what kind of person thought, " Hey! I know what would sell!"  Has the human race reached that point?

So I wasted an hour of sanity and 500 yen waiting out the rain before leaving the restaurant server to fold napkins in preparation for the dinner crowd (and from the set-upof the place, the music didn't seem to deter large groups) and heading back out into what had become a slight drizzle.