If you would’ve told 18 year old me that I would one day be a martial arts black belt, I would’ve exhaled the smoke from my hippie chic clove cigarette and laughed in your face.
At 27, I would have told you sadly that they don’t give black belts to fat girls.
By 30, I might have been interested but still a little incredulous. By that time, I had shed fifty pounds and was starting to learn that almost anything is possible.
Last week, at 33 and some change, I did something I never actually thought I would do, even when I started taking classes two years ago. I became a certified, card-carrying (for real, there’s a card, like a license to kill or something) 1st degree black belt in hapkido, an accomplishment I share with at least a third of Korean ten year olds. But, still, it’s a big deal to me.