Two years ago today, I took my P1 exam. It was one of the most terrifying and most wonderful days of my life. For the first time in my life, I was good at something athletic. It was a revelation to me. I felt I could do anything.
Now, I’ve done over one thousand classes, and I’ve given up the hope to test for P4 for a long time. Covid-19’s break on my training and a complete lack of natural athletic talent have definitely put a wrench into it. I really thought I’d be G-rank by now.
I’m no longer bitter about this. I’ve accepted that I’m limited and I can only do my best.
Did I do my best since that test?
I don’t know. I wish I could say the last year and a half has been a complete triumph, but I’d be lying.
I made a lot of mistakes. I trusted people I shouldn’t have and neglected those who deserved better. I missed out on opportunities by training relentlessly. I got hurt a lot, both physically and emotionally.
I’m not as innocent now. I’m less trusting of people than I once was, and I’m more aware that time is ticking by and I have to devote my energy to my talents before life passes me by. I need to get back to writing seriously. I need to meet people. I need to work on my career. I need to work on myself. I will have to find a new balance.
I also refuse to let the tragedies of the last eighteen months swallow the triumphs. It’s easy to see the bad moments, but there were so many amazing moments filled with love and friendship and achievement. I made so much progress in my life. I’ve made some of the most meaningful friendships in my life.
On the whole, I think that’s a gain.
So where do I go from here? Where will I be in a year and a half?
I remember what a friend said. “You are P3 in Krav Maga but in terms of personal growth, so much more.”
I hope that continues.