She looked harmless enough. 3 foot 6, maybe 3 foot 8.
Probably 70 pounds. I guessed she might have been 4, maybe
5 years old.
How can you be afraid of a child that small? Looks can
be deceiving, can’t they?
I’m a grown man. A fat man. I worked too hard in the
nineties climbing the corporate ladder, and I let my
waistline get away from me. Now I was paying the price for
too many chocolate cakes, 2 martini lunches and Must-See-TV.
I gasped and wheezed my way off the couch to a downtown
empty building turning ninja factory.
I’m standing in a freezing cold dojo, dressed in white
pajamas that they call a “gi”, with a white belt wrapped
around my waist. A bunch of midgets all under the age of
8 are standing near me.
A scruffy looking teenager stands at the front of us. We
call him “Master”. He barks orders at us, and we grunt.
And kick. And punch. And bow. I hate him. He is skinny.
I am not. I am gasping for air.
I am in my first karate class. They stuck me in a kids
class. I don’t think its funny. The sad part is I am the
worst one of the bunch. This little 5 year old girl keeps
wanting to spar me. This little karate girls feet and
hands are the size of a 3 Musketeers chocolate bar. And
yet I am sure she could kick my ass.
Why oh why didn’t I look after myself when I had the chance?
I hate doing knuckle pushups!
Note to self: everything from now on in moderation. No more
crazy eating, no more letting myself go. I hope I can be
a shining example to these children of what not to do!