How will you remember Michael Jackson?

There is no disputing that Michael Jackson was a musical genius.  He changed the landscape of music forever and challenged artists around the world to be more creative and innovative.

I got it.  Kudos to him.

Lest we forget that the man is also a pedophile.  Now, I know technically, he was acquitted of the charges. But then again, so was OJ and how many of you still believe he's innocent?  MJ paid off countless families in order to avoid possible molestation charges.  How is there so much tolerance for such morally corrupt behavior?  Why in his death is this all forgotten and forgiven?

And now his death has become a circus.  Isn't it about time to put all this back in perspective? 

Be sad.  Mourn.  Do the moonwalk in your driveway.  I don't care - let's just not idolize a man that couldn't grasp that his actions with children were totally and completely inappropriate.

Genius aside - he was seriously disturbed and I am more than over the speculations and constant adulations.

Krav Maga: why do I do it?

A little over a year ago I began taking Krav Maga classes.  Since then I have embarked on a special odyssey.  I was never really sure where it would take me or why exactly I was doing it.  But from the start I was captivated by the excruciating physical demands of the techniques.  The camaraderie that was quickly built amongst the students enthralled me and I couldn’t get enough of it.

I trained hard and I trained often.  Probably too often as my body has taken its fair share of bumps and bruises along the way.  Most people phase in and out of sports and activities.  But there is something about Krav Maga that creates an adrenaline rush so strong that at times I feel empty without it. 

With all the physical contact and abrasive nature of Krav, some question whether or not it is really the right fit for women.  I have found that it is much more of a struggle for me to reach an acceptable level of aggression, something that comes much more naturally for a man.  But fighting to get to where you want to be is the foundation for Krav Maga.

Yesterday I reached a major personal milestone in Krav.  I took my level 2-3 exam.   There was only one other woman besides me that took the test.  If we pass, we will be the highest ranked female students at our gym.  To me, that’s a huge accomplishment.  As a woman, I felt I had to want it more and fight harder to prove that I deserved to be there.  

I definitely felt a mental shift in me several months ago.  I realized that I wanted more from Krav.  I wanted it to mean more to me than simply a social gathering where I deposited enormous amounts of sweat on the gym mats.  I noticed  there were fewer and fewer women sticking with it and were dropping out.  I wanted that to change.  Krav Maga is really tough both on your body and your mind.  I firmly believe that because of the combative and relentless nature of Krav, it builds character and changes your perspective on life.  You find strength where you thought you had none.  You learn to turn your vulnerability into empowerment.  For me,  it was time to make my mark, learn something valuable and set an example to the other women that attend classes.

I began to take myself more seriously, and I noticed my instructors began to push me harder.  I took that as a sign of respect that they were willing to invest in me and my training.  As I began to focus more on my goals, they too raised their expectations of me and forced me to train harder and not accept average from myself.  I will always be grateful to them for believing enough in me to not let me manipulate my way through the training and for forcing me to fight to make every strike and kick mean something.

The test was a brutal 6 hours of intense drills that focused on technique, endurance and intensity.  Just when we thought we had reached the end, we were instructed to suit up and begin a series of sparring rounds.  It was more than physically exhausting.  I have bruises on top of bruises, swollen muscles and twisted body parts.  But in spite of the physical pain, I have never felt stronger mentally.  At no point during those six hours or the weeks leading up to the test did I feel the urge to quit or give in to the pain.  

There is a sense of empowerment and confidence that comes with training Krav, especially for women.  Krav Maga teaches us so much more than how to defend ourselves.  For me, I have reached a new level of inner confidence and mental strength.  What I thought I could never achieve, I have exceeded.  What I considered impossible, I have overcome.  And what I believed I could never endure, I have surpassed.

There is so much power within me.  My race is not yet finished.  Whether or not I passed - I still think I deserve the title of "Bad Ass Krav Chick"!

Guys in drag I can take. The giant cross on the wall turned me off

I always know I am in for a fun adventure when my friend Kim is the activities director. So the other night when she told me she was taking me out for a birthday celebration filled with surprises, I knew to expect the unexpected. After a great sushi dinner we headed toward the entertainment portion of the evening - no details were provided and I was excited!

To my delight, we arrived at a theater! I love watching plays so I was super excited to experience the arts for a night. The marquee should have raised a few red flags, but ever the optimist, I simply pondered to myself all the possibilities that "Bad Night In A Men's Room Off Sunset Boulevard" would hold. The fact that we were smack in the middle of the sexually liberal and all loving Hillcrest, never even crossed my naive little mind.

We sat in the very front row in this tiny little eclectic theater. I had no idea what was coming next. As I started reading through the program, Kim nudges me and tells me that there is a little more to this play than meets the eye. I get to the big passage where the debate about who can love whom or have sex with whom or marry whom is discussed. Despite the passage of Proposition 8 banning gay marriage in California, the topic is still a major hot button. I support gay marriage so a play articulating those challenges and struggles for equality piqued my interest.

Just before the lights went down, Kim informed me that there was only one female in the play and she was not the love interest. There were some transgender roles being played out. I looked up at her to respond, but my attention was taken up by this enormous wooden cross with a crucifix hanging in the middle of the set. The guys in drag didn't faze me at all. But I was contemplating walking out due to that oversized, out of place cross bearing down on me.

My mind was open as the play began. It quickly shut after about 10 minutes of the worst acting I had ever witnessed. The main character pees on the stage in quiet defiance, not really adding much to the actual conflict being set up. All these characters did was shout at each other. There was so much overacting and yelling that I thought I was in the middle of auditions for American Idol.

Every single stereotype you can think of played out in the first act of this play. There was alcoholism, incest, addiction, rehab, jail time, gender confusion, cross dressing, gender reassignment, bisexuality, child neglect, infidelity, depression, fame, and family dysfunction. It was unreal. And all the time they yelled at each other in their attempt to communicate. I was distracted by the phenomenal amount of cuss words, which saturated the script. It was difficult to focus on the meaning of the words hidden behind all those swear words.

Just as I was sensing the beginning signs of a yawn and praying intermission would interrupt my wandering mind, the climax came - literally.

The married but sexually confused Hollywood actor that was caught in a men's room enjoying sexual favors similar to those of Senator Craig and the flamboyant, doe-eyed transgender stage hand come together for a pivotal scene. They stare not so convincingly into each other's eyes and share an awkward embrace. Now if the acting had been less than horrible, perhaps I could have gotten lost in their passionate embrace and believed in their longing for one another. But because the acting was so forced and so disconnected, I didn't buy into this strange story of forbidden love.

So they danced together and kissed. And soon their clothes were being tossed onto the floor. I fully expected undergarments to be part of the wardrobe selections. But no - there before me, just five short feet away - two men stood stark naked with their junk swinging in the breeze. As their bodies molded to one another my only thought was - "Hmmm. Not so impressive. I've seen better."

The dominant man hoists the other man up, wrapping his legs around his naked body. I grabbed for Kim's leg and pinched her as if to ask "Why, Kim? Why did you bring me here."

That would have been a perfect place to call "scene" and bring up the lights for intermission. But we weren't done being voyeurs yet. They moved to the bedroom and began to loudly explore their happy endings with each other. I wanted to look away. I really did. I think I was frozen in shock. And finally, almost mercifully, the stage lights dimmed and the house lights brightened.

I sat rigid in my seat, not moving, my eyes staring forward. I slowly turned my head toward Kim and before I could even begin to speak, she was apologizing all over the place. This was not what she had expected at all. She was just as horrified as I was.

And then we laughed - hard, uncontrollable nervous laughter poured out of us. Probably partly to relieve the awkward stress of watching two men play out scenes from Deep Throat and partly because we felt a little embarrassed that we didn't enjoy it the way the rest of the audience seemed to.

We contemplated leaving before the second act. But then, we aren't quitters. And seriously, what else could they possibly do to shock us anymore than they already had? With renewed atitudes and open minds, we stayed and laughed our way through the much funnier and less naked second half.

I love that Kim planned a fabulous evening for my birthday. Her intent was amazing. Her execution, a little off.

Now I got mileage to go with my baggage

There aren't adequate enough words for me to describe my experience of running in the San Diego Rock n' Roll marathon.

It is a day I'll never forget. It proved to be the ultimate test of endurance, stamina and most importantly - inner strength. The physical pain paled in comparison to the mental obstacle course I navigated through. I never knew that I could push my body so far beyond what I allowed my mind to believe it could do.

There were moments of elation and extreme clarity. And then there were flashes of anguish as the pain and boredom set in and the miles before me seemed to go on forever.

The corrals opened and I flooded the course along with 40,000 other crazy folk. We started out slowly before the crowd thinned a bit and we all got our pace going. Since I had just spent a very long and annoying 45 minutes in line for the port-o-potty, I didn't have any time to stretch and warm up. I literally got to my corral as the gun went off. So it took me a mile or so to warm up and get it going. I began to hit my stride around mile three.

And then this amazing euphoria kicked in for the next 4 miles. I think they call it the runner's high. It was like I was no longer attached to my body. I was just moving, pounding the pavement and propelling my body forward, but my mind was far far away. I was in a zone of thought that I cannot even begin to comprehend. It was strangely freeing. I think for the first time in years, the constant tape I play in my head that causes me hugely unfortunate bouts of insomnia just disappeared. My mind was free and blank and if felt wonderful. I thought about nothing, yet I felt everything.

Apparently I hadn't quite learned all the tricks of the trade. I missed the training class on how to sustain that high for a long period of time. It left me after about 4 miles. Just gone. And I was only at the 7-mile marker. I kept toying with myself. I'd question why I was even doing this.

Was it worth it and what was I trying to prove? And as I listened to asphalt being smacked down under the pressure of my own feet, I found the answers. It was absolutely worth it because I was running in loving memory of my Aunt and my dear friend who suffered from the very diseases I was raising money for.

I slipped into a walk, just for a minute to catch my breath. I looked up and there was a man in a wheelchair holding up a sign. He looked over at me and said he was a survivor. "Don't quit on me now. You can do this. Pick up your pace and keep on going because you can." And I did. And I cried.

I started to feel some pain in my foot and thought this would be the end of the running for me. I was around mile 9 but I just couldn't go any further. I started to walk again. And then this woman came out of nowhere, saw the pain in my eyes and said to me, "Nothing will hurt more than the shame of not crossing that finish like. Keep going. You can do this."

So I ran. And I cried. But I started to have serious doubts about myself and began to question what made me think I could actually do this crazy thing? I didn't take the training all that seriously so I really wasn't all that prepared. Why did I really want to keep running? As if reading my mind, some woman ran past me, but not before I read the back of her shirt, "I run for those that are no longer here to run for themselves." And I was once again off and running with determination. This was my constant mental battle between sitting in pain and pushing through it.

I was running on the 163 freeway and it is a horrible 3 mile journey of one long continuous climb up a hill without any reprieve. I suddenly got filled with frustration and anxiety and just didn't want to continue. I looked ahead at all the people not quitting and they gave me inspiration.

My true melt down came towards the top of the 163. I could feel it stirring inside. I looked up and saw the mile marker for the 15K and tears of panic sprang to my eyes. I knew I didn't have it in me to finish. But just as suddenly, when I looked up again, I clearly saw an image of my lovely Auntie Judy smiling at me and laughing. She never quit anything. She always fought for her kids, her family, and her life. So she hung with me for the next two miles pushing me to run through the pain to get to the other side of the hill. I could hear her laughter, I could see her face in my mind's eye and I could feel her presence. Call me crazy, but she was there with me, making sure I didn't give up on myself. And then I started down the hill and she was gone. She knew when I needed her most.

And then it hit me. I felt this huge shift in my mind. I understood the tremendous conflict between feeling the urge to want to quit and then wanting to search for that strength to push through it all. It was intense and it was profound and I alone owned that struggle within myself.

Seeing my friends along the route was incredible and inspiring. I could never have kept on going without those cheers of good wishes, quick pictures and loving hugs! The true bond of friendship was proven when Hottie Krav Instructor Sam forced me to walk another 5 miles after the race - just to get to his car. No curbside pickup?

As I got close to that finish line, my heart filled with pride. I saw it through, finished what I set out to do four months ago. Something that so many weren't convinced I could - or questioned why I'd want to. I never really knew the answer to that until I crossed that line and hugged my friends and family. It was for a different kind of bragging rights.

It was such a personal accomplishment to be able to push my battered body plagued with multiple injuries to perform at an optimal athletic level. I didn't allow my self-doubt to sabotage my goal. I had to keep mentally pushing myself through each mile with lots of self-talk and mantras that made me believe I was good enough and was worth it enough to see it through. I know that this new inner belief in myself and this internal strength and determination will be with me forever.

Everyone has their own story of why they chose to run this marathon. Mine is neither for heroic reasons nor athletic prowess. I simply wanted to see if the "girl that wasn't really built for running", could in fact run a marathon.

And I did.

If I were into S & M, I'd call it foreplay

But I'm not, so I guess it isn't.  But since there is sure to be another edition to this seemingly endless plight of hysterical brutality, I maintain my right to dress it up as I see fit in order to endure each sticky little predicament that is forced upon me.

As if getting my ass kicked in sparring over the weekend wasn't enough, I just came from Krav Maga class where once again, my ego was crushed as I tried to hang with the boys.

For some reason, Shawn (is there really any reason not to call him out at this point?) has taken it upon himself to make it his personal mission to help me reach new depths of aggression.  I get that he is doing it in my best interest, to help me improve my training, but that little sparkle of pleasure in his eyes as he beats me to a pulp is starting to grate on my nerves.

We paired up for full body sparring and I did my best to avoid him most of the night.  But then the inevitable smacked me in the gut as we were told to switch partners one more time.  We were the only two that hadn't partnered up yet.  As we touched gloves to begin the round, I saw this flash of determined madness in his eyes.  The instinct to run away and hide kicked in full force.

I have this strange idiosyncrasy in my personality.  I chalk it up to being a Gemini.  I am an "all in" or "all out" kind of gal.  I don't really have a happy medium about me.  I go to one extreme or another with my emotions.  It is pretty exhausting at times and I am sure quite frustrating for those around me to keep up with my constantly fluctuating hot and cold personifications.  I am on a continuous journey to find that happy medium.  I am getting better, however, I do fail to reach that goal more often than not.

Shawn is quite familiar with my Gemini nuttiness and recognized right away that the aggressive Kimber had left the building.  He has this special knack for being able to zone right in on my every weakness and capitalizes on it just to push my buttons.  I sensed that he was out to prove something to me, but I kept turning my back as he advanced towards me.  I just couldn't get into the fight.  

But what have we learned about Shawn?

He enjoys our combative slapstick relationship so much that he refuses to allow me any slack whatsoever, even when I am exhausted and want to exit from the skirmish.  One would think he would sense my cautious, timid nature and ease up a bit. Oh no, not Shawn.  What does he do instead?  He comes flying at me like a crazy banshee hunting his defenseless prey.

I, of course, turn away - willing him to just leave me alone. No such luck.  He is fixated on making me tap into my aggression and pull myself back into the fight.

We start to cover a lot of ground as he pursues me.  Nothing is off limits.  As is he throwing jabs at my head I am flailing around, taking everything down along the way.  Other teams are sparring, but we don’t care.  As the gym floor becomes our playground, we knock into people, pushing them out of our way. 

I get tangled up between two heavy boxing bags and he pounces on me.  I can’t get my footing and I feel this primal scream rising in my throat for him to get off me.  He has succeeded.  I am super pissed off.   I lunge at him plowing through the other people in my way.  Here is where my hot and cold switch kicks in.  I am incensed so my power is completely uncontrollable.  I run at him with wild eyes filled with rage and throw all kinds of kicks and punches.  Technical prowess is replaced with my need to inflict a certain amount of pain.

Just when I feel the energy shift stirring in me again, threatening to resurface, Richard, the owner, appears out of nowhere – and starts cheering us on, shouting words of encouragement and fighting tips.  Shouldn’t he have been yelling at Shawn to ease up?

We start charging through the gym again like a tornado.  No one in our path is safe.  Shawn grabs me in a bear hug attack and slams me against the back wall.  With my face smashed up against the drywall and Shawn’s sweat invading my personal space, I happen to turn and look at the spectators by the door.  The look of horror on their faces as this guy is seemingly beating up on this delicate flower of a woman fueled my rage and made me counter attack with a fanatical force. 

Finally, the instructor steps in and breaks it up.  I’m ready for Shawn to get his ass chewed for instigating this circus of a sparring match with me, but instead, I get critiqued on my inability to stay in my fighting stance. 

Are you kidding me?  Is there a lesson here that I am just not getting?

Is being one of the guys worth it?

I've never really been one of those girly girls.  I’m not a big fan of dresses and gobs of makeup really take me outside of my comfort zone.  I prefer a football game to shopping and clean more than I cook.  Growing up I played a lot of sports, while still trying to balance it with the obligatory dance classes my mom was convinced would give me some sense of gracefulness.  After all this time, I am thinking that it just didn't take. 

I always loved hanging with the guys and found that I usually had much more in common with them than the girls that wanted to braid my hair and play dress up.  I chose to make mud pies in the dirt and ride bikes around the neighborhood.

While I tried not to go to extremes, I did manage to find a comfortable balance between rolling in the dirt and wearing pantyhose.  I learned to embrace my restless inner voice that sought danger and adventure while submitting to a life of eyebrow plucking, pedicures and leg shaving.

I have created this intensely strong exterior that sometimes portrays a tougher façade than of what actually lies within it. But at my core of who I am and what I stand for, I am quite certain that I am a feminine woman.  I enjoy being taken care of and treated as a sensitive woman.  I can so easily tap into my feminine energy that it sometimes comes as a surprise when I find myself unable to pull myself out of the “masculine energy” box my friends have put me in.

I love doing anything physical.  Engaging my whole body in some kind of battle makes me feel alive.  In our Krav Maga training there is a lot of physical contact and I tend to set my own standard of intensity.  I enjoy the combative nature of the drills.  But, I like to do it on my terms, just as any woman does.

So when I was invited to spar with some guy friends over the weekend I was pretty sure I was going to be able to play the girl card, just in case things got too rough.  They were used to training with me in Krav, but in truth, what guy wants to beat up on a girl?

I couldn’t have been more wrong.  As I stepped into the garage and got geared up, I saw the concentration in their eyes.  I knew they weren’t going to hold back and would not tolerate anything but my full effort.

Normally, I would be flattered for being treated as one of the guys and not receiving special treatment just for being a girl.  Truthfully, nothing annoys me more.  But this day was a little bit different.  They were so determined and intent on us practicing for the impending belt test, that I knew there was no room for whining girl tactics.  I had to match their focus.  I was nervous and not sure I could measure up.

Sparring was hard and intense and I am quite certain that getting my ass kicked, twice, was not on my to-do list when I woke up that morning.  They are strong guys with amazing skills that I can’t begin to match.

We sparred in multiple three minutes rounds and each of them somehow managed to punch me squarely in the face, sending me flying backwards in a dizzying body flailing motion.  I barely recovered before they were on me again with kicks and punches to the liver.  My blocking was pathetic but I managed to get in a few decent shots.  

These guys sent body shots, hooks and straight punches without a single thought that I may break a nail, or worse, start to bleed.  As I fought one opponent, the other shouted advice and offered suggestions on how to improve.  There wasn’t a single moment that they made me feel inferior to them. 

I did have one very girly moment where I just couldn’t dig deep enough to find the energy I knew I needed for the final round.  I just didn’t have it in me and I could feel the excuses and whines building up inside me.  Instead of giving in to my laziness and letting me quit, my friend did his best to piss me off and raise my level of aggression.  He yelled at me and wouldn’t accept any of my excuses.  He wouldn’t indulge me in my quest to play my girl card.  He made me fight for it. It worked.  And it was strangely supportive.  

While it is nice to play with the boys, there comes a point where I feel like I have to remind them that I am a girl.   I do want them to view me as a woman, yet not treat me like one when we are training.

At least no one laughed when I asked for a bottle of aspirin and some ice for the mild concussion they gave me.  That's progress.

I know I can’t have it both ways, but isn’t it just like a woman to want it that way?

Let the carb loading begin

I find people to being absolutely remarkable.  At every turn, my friends seem to surprise the hell out of me - mostly in amazing ways that lift my spirits and fill me with unbridled gratitude.  I have been fortunate in my life to have had some pretty incredible experiences that have afforded me the opportunity to travel the world and meet some unbelievable people along the way.  I have built friendships from so many different facets of my life and it is such a special feeling when I am reminded of the magnitude of the bonds of friendship that we've created together.  

When I began this crazy journey to run a marathon, the initial reactions from family and friends were mixed.  Most of you thought I was crazy.  Some figured I wouldn't actually go through with it.  Many of you reminded me that since I had just finished recovering from a knee injury, a re-injury was probably inevitable with all the training that was involved.  And would that risk be worth it?

But as soon as I proclaimed my intention with steadfast certainty, you were all in my corner showering me with overwhelming support.  And the support has been so much more than just financial.  I am getting words of encouragement and motivation from all sides.  Even as I suffered from multiple injuries while training - yes you were all correct with the foresight of a re-injury - no one told me to quit.  No one has ever said to me, "You can't do this.  Just give up trying."  How lucky am I to have people in my life that believe so deeply in my ability to fulfill my own dreams?

Everyone seems to have gotten involved and staked their claim in my journey to see this through.  While I appreciate being encouraged during Krav Maga classes not to quit and push myself harder since I am in marathon training mode, I'm pretty sure the constant yelling could be curtailed just a bit, right?  But I do love being held accountable and I appreciate the willingness to help me succeed.

Thanks to all of you, I have successfully reached my fundraising goal of over $1800 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.  I am just mere weeks away from living out this wild ambition of mine.  Due to some lingering injuries, I have conceded to running the half marathon instead of the full.  But I am still fully committed and incredibly excited to embody this phenomenal experience!  

I am not sure how to begin to thank my friends for the unbelievable generosity and the support you have shown me over the last few months.  Friendships from every era of my life have come forward to give me strength and encouragement.  Those of you from my childhood, high school and corporate working days have helped me rekindle my belief that true friendships do indeed endure the test of time.  And I feel closer than ever to the more recent friendships in my life as your confidence in me only deepens our connection.

I hope to see some of you out on race day.  I'm counting on you guys to bring a stretcher and some extra ice.

Saving lives - one groin kick at a time

I have this stubborn streak in me and it runs pretty deep. It is not often that I find the courage to back down from my own belief system long enough to hear the advice being offered by others. But luckily, I allowed the universe to intervene on my behalf and I actually listened to my friends as they relentlessly, yet gently, coaxed me into attending a women's only rape prevention seminar held at my Krav Maga gym last week. It turned out to be an incredibly empowering and amazing experience.

At first I really didn't want to go. Being faced with all the emotional baggage that stems from learning about violent attacks was not something that interested me. I was knee deep into avoidance and being confronted with the reality that 1 in 3 women will be attacked in their lifetime, was really something I was willing to never know. They say ignorance is bliss. But in this situation ignorance is stupidity and can lead to me being an unwilling victim. To be perfectly honest, it really came down to me not being comfortable with exposing my vulnerability. I was sure that some crazed and emotional reaction was going to be ignited within me when I was charged with creating a mock attack scene.

I hadn't realized just how much my life was benefiting from my Krav Maga training until I found myself needing to push past some mental barriers. During the seminar, I was able to tap into an emotional and physical strength I wasn't aware I possessed. The drills were designed to push us past our comfort zone and to test our boundaries. Even as I was shaking, I felt safe enough to expose my inner weaknesses and play full out in each scenario. All of the stress drills we performed in Krav classes were now part of my muscle memory and the fear of the unknown wasn't as scary for me as it was for some others.

As I watched these women, these fellow soldiers standing next to me in this fight to protect our bodies, I saw them break down and then pick themselves up and carry on. They were fighting with their own mental limitations. The same fight I endure each time I glove up and take to the mats during class. To be a part of their transformations was a phenomenal experience. Through the tears, the doubt, the uncertainty, they found the strength from deep within to knock the monkey off their backs and move forward in their lives.

When we got to the final drill, the actual physical attack by the instructors, I could barely contain my excitement and my anxiety. They were in these padded suits and we were going to be able to kick them with full force. I was excited because I was going to be able to finally feel the affects of all my Krav training and unleash it on an attacker. My anxiety came from the thought that I would freeze up and not know what to do - rendering all my time training Krav worthless. Since there were only two of us in this seminar that had trained Krav Maga, I felt that we had to represent and I felt the pressure to perform.

We lined up and one by one the women found themselves faced with a single attacker. Countless groin strikes were delivered with force and purpose. The unleashing of the groin kicks and eye strikes are the best weapons we have against an attacker. These women were incredible. With each groin strike they delivered, they were taking back their lives and destroying the demons trying to take over.

Then my turn came. As I closed my eyes, one of the instructors leaned in and whispered into my ear, "You better be ready." Adrenaline instantly poured into my veins and my senses were on fire. I knew something was coming. I was attacked and I fought back. I delivered groin strikes and elbows and knees. I could hear everyone cheering and it felt great. As my attacker was going to the ground we got tangled up and I rolled to the floor as well. I popped up instantly thinking I was done and happy with what I achieved. Just as I was about to celebrate, another attacker charged me. This time I wasn't as prepared. I didn't have all the combos in my head and I was taken off guard. I had to work off instinct rather than focus on technique. I wasn't drilling it, I was fighting back. It was awesome.

Some of these women have now found their way into our Krav Maga program. With each class, I can see their inner strength deepening and their empowerment growing. I feel so much pride having been a part of this program. This is truly an amazing experience every woman should partake in. And learning to send vicious kicks to the groin is a super fun bonus!