Hanged, Drawn and Quartered.

Back in the Middle Ages, or whenever the fuck it was, if you committed High Treason in England as a man, you were sentenced to one of the most ghoulish and devastating executions imaginable. For plotting against, or acting against the Monarchy, the second you were captured your fate was sealed. You were to be hanged, drawn & quartered. Women luckily got away with being burned at the stake, a more dignified death obviously, as their skin swelled and popped in excruciating boils. 

In Scottish history at least, we’re all too aware of this hanging, drawing and quartering shite, because it’s the very demise that William Wallace was faced with (feel free to picture Mel Gibson screaming FREEDOM!). It’s rammed down your throats in school as teachers gleefully recite the battles leading up to his eventual capture. 

Let’s go through the gruesome details of what actually happened. You would be strapped to a wooden frame, and dragged by a horse to your eventual death place. Once there, you were hanged until almost dead. Whilst gasping for breath, you were tied down in place for all to see, as they removed your sexual organs, and disemboweled you. They’d then burn that flesh before you, as you no doubt writhed in unspeakable pain. On the verge of your last breath being drawn, your head would be chopped off, and your body quartered to be put on display across the land as a warning to others. Crime apparently doesn’t pay.

This week I was hanged, drawn and quartered for my atrocities to the King Helio. Or at least, that’s how I feel of late. I’ve been in a dark place of late, and decided to pull myself out of it with training. I now physically ache from head to fucking toe. I’m trying to train a minimum of three times a week at the moment, but the ideal scenario will be hitting every grappling class available. This week I’ve trained Monday (NoGi), Tuesday (Gi) & Wednesday (Gi). I’m having a break tonight because I sprained my ankle yesterday before class, and proceeded anyways because it seemed like a cool idea at the time. After a class full of heelhooks and rolling, my ankle pretty much fucking hates me today.

I’m starting to feel my fitness creeping up like Jack the Ripper though. I’m hitting sweeps that I never had the effort or ability for before, and my core is getting to where it should be. One day I may actually be able to drop the moniker of World’s Worst Purple Belt or The Lazy Grappler. Wouldn’t that be rad?

Tomorrow I’m going to write a review for a belt I’ve recently bought, and maybe post something I’ve been toying with for a while. Along with fitting in some training of course. 

Right, do one. 😉

 

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