When Barton and I were in Washington DC at a martial arts training seminar, just after we had gotten engaged, I stood in front of Barton and gave a punch, stopping just in front of him. I did what most people do when they train with Barton, pulling their punches. After chiding me, I gave a realistic attack, and Barton gave a realistic response, which surprised me as I wasn’t expecting an arm bar across his wheelchair nor my foot caught just under his footrest.
I had begun training in martial arts several years prior, and for, it was to navigate the chaos of an ending relationship as well as the death of my mother. I heard about martial arts from a close friend, who just said, “Come and see.” I never thought I would be training. I had grown up with asthma, not able to be as physically exerting as other students my age. After such dramatic losses in my life, I was on survival mode, yet I knew I needed to get back. The first evening I looked at students rolling on the grass at dusk, hitting and punching each other and thought, “What on earth are you doing? You want to do that?”
Training gave me not only the clarity I needed in a very turbulent time, I was also learning how my body worked in different situations, letting go physically as well as emotionally and learning how to stand back up on my own. One of the blackbelts also taught a creative writing series, and so I fell in love with journaling and writing again.
I certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the love of my life while training!