How hard could it possibly be?
I?ve taken some aerobic kickboxing classes; I have an older brother who was once an overzealous wrestling fan.
Surely I can punch and kick a bright blue pad nicknamed Hank, visualizing a would-be attacker and screaming “No!” and “Get away!” with conviction.
Turns out, the self-defense class was harder than I thought.
Instructor Katie Turyna started the class by asking what we thought a victim looked like. Not really sure how to answer, I listened as the other women described someone distracted, digging for her keys while talking on the cell phone and juggling a dozen other things.
That sounds familiar.
The first drill brought the hardest lesson of the two-hour class as we paired up to learn using our voices to diffuse a potential assault. My partner came at me aggressively, pretending to be selling a magazine or taking a survey.
I was supposed to stand tall, hold my hands up in front of me, and firmly bark “No.”
Instead, I melted.
All the Southern, kill-them-with-kindness charm and womanly courtesy I had been taught were now working against me.
As the class progressed, and Hank was paraded around for us to shout at and hammer punch, I got more comfortable, and more forceful, with my moves.
But really, what are the chances I will remember these techniques should I be attacked?
Practice and visualize, suggested Turyna, herself an assault survivor.
When she was first attacked, she froze. And after taking three self-defense classes, she was approached again, and that time, she didn?t hesitate.
Maybe that?s the key.
Unlike some of the other students, forming a fist and kicking a punching bag aren?t entirely foreign for me.
But visualizing an attack and thinking through the right reaction were the challenge.
Perhaps I should practice a few moves in the name of building confidence and awareness.
I could start by standing in front of the mirror, hands in front of me, yelling “NO!”
