--- 7 Years 4 Months ---
Dear Son,
Today is one of those days I am super proud of you.
Of course, I'm proud of you every day, but today, I wore it on my sleeve...just a bit.
See, today you tested and earned your yellow belt. And while it feels like you'll be sticking with this martial arts love for a while, and there will be many more belts to come, today provided a lot of firsts for me.
It was the first time I've seen you in an environment where you truly applied preparation and perseverance.
I watched you practice in our basement on your own. Kicking. Going through combinations and striking patterns. Practicing pushups and situps to get yourself where you need to be for the fitness test.
I will forever remember the visual of watching you studying the definitions and principles of a fighting spirit in the car through my rear-view mirror before each training session.
I sat at every practice and training for the past fifteen weeks - for the good ones, the bad ones, and even the "ehh" ones.
On this day, you put it together.
As Master Reggie had noted for weeks, and before the exam, to the entire room, "We are going to push your child to the limit today. Some will pass. Some won't. Those who are prepared will. Those who lack preparation won't."
I watched you get yelled at. Endure a crazy amount of pushups and burpees because of fellow junior white belts and their mishaps. You had a few as well.
I clenched my fists to my mouth, struggling with nervousness for you, as you pushed your way through 30 body squats. Holding on to each exasperated count...twenty-seven, sir! Twenty-eight, sir! twenty.....nine...sir!
You wrestled a fellow white belt and beat him handily in the 1-minute contest.
You then wrestled a ten-year-old orange belt, and let me tell you, your dad was tense! I'll never forget around the 34-second mark, where you rolled over and clinched his head, and one of your coaches yelling" front mount, front mount," I, too, screaming it internally. Because Ace, as we talked at length on the ride home...you HAD HIM!
Nonetheless, you flinched in your transition for front mount, and simply looked up at the clock, and clinched his head until the time expired for the draw.
My boy, in what I hope will be the first of many, many moments, I was insanely proud to hear your name called; to watch you run over with that bouncing hair of yours, as you bowed, and received your yellow belt; to watch you have that look of accomplishment as you donned it.
You had a goal. And you smashed it.
You dedicated yourself to something. Trained. Prepared. And executed.
Please - please! - keep those qualities. It will take you so far in life!
Regardless, for three hours and seventeen minutes (because I was counting), I found myself nervous for you. Wanting it so bad for you. Feeling for you. But also, realizing all along that you had this.
I'm super proud of you.
Love, Dad