Here’s a health tip that I wish I didn’t need to give: if you’re going to exercise, make sure you drink water, eat food, and get up at least an hour beforehand so you can accomplish the first two items on this list. Kung Fu requires physical movement and often includes some strenuous exercise, so that health tip should really go without saying. Unfortunately, I found out that not everyone actually follows that rule.

I knew my student looked pale when I first saw her and I could tell that other people noticed this, too. However, she was acting as her usual self, so I didn’t really ask any questions. Everyone else took my lead and went onward with their activities without another word.

I brought her into the back parking lot of our studio. I’ve always preferred to work outside, what with the openness and the fact that other people aren’t spying on your lesson. My student liked it much better, as well, so I felt that I was doing right by bringing her out. Besides, a little bit of sun might do her some good, with her ever paling skin and what not.

She lasted barely 15 minutes. She began her form, slowly, and had to stop after the first few moves. I decided that perhaps some techniques would suit her better in this condition, since they were very short, and wouldn’t have to expel as much energy into each one. She did the first move, and stopped.

“I think I need to sit down,” she murmured, and I couldn’t have agreed more. I finally came to terms that something was indeed wrong, and that sitting down would probably be the best thing to do. When it comes to medical advice, my best tip is to never ask me for help, and just see a doctor, because I know nothing. However, I felt that rest would be a good cure for this current predicament.

We sat down for two minutes, not saying much. I suggested that we go inside, seeing that it was warm out and the studio was nice and air conditioned. She nodded and stood up, with me close beside her. She walked a few steps, and spoke in a slurred voice, “I don’t feel so good…”

And she fainted onto the pavement. I stared at her for about two seconds, then bent down next to her in a rising panic. Honestly, she wasn’t out for very long, maybe 10 seconds at the most, but oh my gosh, those were the longest 10 seconds of my life.

When she awoke, I helped pull her to her feet. I noticed how clammy and cold her arms were, and I could practically feel the sun’s rays, not warming my skin, but cooling it. We made it inside without incident, and I sat her down on one of the front benches. I gave her a bottle of water, and went outside to find her father.

At first, we thought she had a heat stroke of some sort. Upon further interrogation, however, we discovered that she had gotten up maybe an hour beforehand, eaten a Powerbar, and had not drunk any water. This lesson was at six in the evening, and was supposed to be an hour long. There was no way we were going to continue this lesson, so we closed it up, and she went home, where she hopefully drank a gallon of water and went back to bed.

There were a few take-aways from this situation. One, of course, is to treat your body right, and please, please, please don’t allow yourself to get to the point where you lose consciousness. For me, though, if I suspect anything amiss, anything at all, I had better say something, or someone is going to end up in a very bad predicament.

Of course, my student the next week ended up with a bloody nose, but that was from a completely different cause with no forewarning, so I won’t be discussing that particular lesson at this time.