My friend Kim and I exchanged a couple emails after our big day at the Captain’s Cup Challenge taekwondo tournament this past Saturday. I sent her some pictures and mentioned that it looked like she had a good time. Here was her reply. ”Thank you!! We had a blast. The moment when Joseph realized that he’d broken all his boards on the first try and that he’d done really well…oh my gosh. I almost burst into tears. Such a wonderful day.”
I know that feeling well. That amazing connection when you can feel your child’s victory (or defeat) deep in your heart, like it is your own.
I asked Kim to share a little more about their moment for us…
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Captain’s Cup by Kim Fernandez
I cringe every time my kids try to break a board at Taekwondo test time. I cringe and I tangle my fingers up into a knot and count my toes and read the inane labels on my plastic water bottle and say little prayers. “Please let it break. Please let it break. Please please please let it break.”
I say that prayer when it’s my turn on the floor, too. Just for the record. But I say it more passionately when my kids are up. I’m not a proponent of “everybody gets a trophy for showing up,” but I also don’t want to watch my little guys fail. It hurts.
Saturday was our first tournament. We practiced our team form what felt like thousands of times and it went off without a hitch; hard work pays off. But board breaking…well…in the moment, it either happens or it doesn’t. Perfecting the kick helps, but the steadiness of the holder, the wood’s grain, and simple luck weigh in pretty heavily too.
I started chanting my “please let it break” mantra when my son stood up for his turn before the judges. He looked at his holders, waited for the call, and then BANG! BANG! BANG! Broke all three boards, one right after the other.
Thank you.
His fist lowered to his side after the third board, he inhaled, and then he realized what just happened as the applause started. All three. First try. Totally rocked it. His face lit up like Christmas, and over on the sidelines, my heart nearly exploded. I’m pretty sure I was happier than he was, because I knew what those three boards meant.
I can do this!
The tournament was good for our bodies, to be sure, but also so very good for our souls. That’s what this is all about–growing as a warrior and as a person. My son went home with a medal, but also with a life experience–a defining moment. And a smile that hasn’t let up three days later. How incredibly, amazingly awesome is that?
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And THAT is why we love taekwondo!
COMMENTS
What a wonderful post! Thank you! It helps us Grandma-types breathe easier, having a better understanding of your feelings when you tackle this challenging sport.
Enjoyed this post. Thanks to Laura and Kim. I had total energy around the tournament Saturday too, even though my kiddos weren’t there. This one was for me. Confidence, still working it, still competitive, still learning, still doing, still trying new things, still engaged, still having fun, still doing for ME, even though I’m a mom, wife, etc., etc. All good lessons (I hope) for them, and especially for my little girl. Who by the way, ain’t so little any more. Don’t blink, ladies.
Lori,
This could be a whole other topic by itself. Thank you so much for your comment. “Still competitive, still learning, still doing, still trying new things, still engaged, still having fun, still doing for ME.” YES!! Isn’t this the ultimate game of life? While my heart pangs when my kids succeed or fail, and probably always will, I am also learning that it is okay to do and be for just me. In fact, it is necessary! And aren’t you so right about blinking. Man oh man, I am sleeping with my eyes open!
Congratulations on your victories at the tournament, and in life!
Laura
