You might be wondering how I’m managing to blog on our moving day, and the answer would be—

I’m a Ninja!

Okay, not even a wanna-be.  But I am a fan of Ask a Ninja, and someday I plan to send in a question.  Right after I get my six foot plot of earth picked out and and my life insurance paid off.

He’s got a lot of really funny pods on there, but this one, Ninjalympics, was worthy of snagging over here because it proves that he and I move in the same circles.

The Olympic stuff is funny, and there’re lots of laughs, but the first part, when he talks about the Ninja’s need to stay ready is when he reveals that he was present at one of my (or any of my) martial arts tournaments, years ago.

You stand around, chatting with lots of other people you’ll soon be fighting, and nothing happens.

You’re pumped, and ready to fight, but you can wait.  It’s cool.

…You’re not quite so pumped, but this is good.  Now you’re loose, too, and that’s a good thing.

……Okay, you’re getting a little tired.  But you have endurance.  Deep breath–psych yourself.  Yep.  You’re still pumped.

………Still…pumped.

…………Enough already.  It’s been hours, you’re starving, you’ve watched other fighters carried off on stretchers, and you’re supposed to be home by now.  Talk to the coach, grumble.  Deep breath–whatever.

……………Nope.  Not the least bit pumped.  You’ve even given in and ordered food–but man, it tastes good!  Wow, so delicious, even if it does wiegh you down and–

Oh no!  It’s your turn to fight!

 

Yeah.  That’s what it’s like.  The ones I attended were universally the most poorly organized events I’ve ever had the misfortune to build my schedule around.  The one redeeming factor?  When you went home, and regardless of the giant 6th place trophy in the back of your car, you knew you were a survivor.  Maybe even a wanna-be Ninja.

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