You don't get used to it.

I mean, you do, sort of, sure. Everyone remembers their first nikkyo. Hoo-boy. For so many of us, it's the first technique we feel, when we ask that neighbor, or cousin, or new teacher: "so, what's this aikido stuff you're talking about?"

"Grab my wrist," the neighbor says, taking a break from mowing his lawn.

Boom. Nikkyo. Nage has lots of control, it requires little or no ukemi beyond the intuitive "ouch" and crouch; so, for dealing with first-timers, it's a go-to technique. And we are all first-timers at some point. And we all remember that first nikkyo. The sensation of every third resident of China using your wrist as a crash-test dummy for learning acupuncture, all at once. Then, it gets better. You get a little used to it. Your wrists get stronger, then larger, and if you stick with it, somebody one day says that grabbing your wrist is like grabbing steel cable.

You do not get used to anything over the course of a single day.

Five hours of aikido for me, today, spread out over three classes. Twice a week, lately, I've been enjoying this indulgence of time and exertion. Today, I started to feel the wear on my knees in hour two. It did not go away. I did not get used to it. Fifteen minutes into what would have been the sixth hour, I was done for the day, not because I wanted to be, but because I had to be. And, even after limping to the car, and then into the house, for a reason having nothing to do with the pre-existing leg injury, my head's too preoccupied looking forward to tomorrow's three hours of class to really feel the pain from today. It's probably time to take some aspirin, before the subconscious absorbs the blog and figures out how the body's supposed to feel.