When two Brazilian jiu jitsu players engage in a match, the fact of pressure in their combat is not always immediately evident. With top flight grapplers, progress of one grappler's offense against his opponent's defense is remarkably similar to the constricting pressure offered by certain boa snakes. Especially with the gi on. But pressure is almost always present in well-conditioned players and their skill, conditioning, and mental game inform their physical and emotional response to pressure. And their responses usually manifest in a calm, probing, incremental push and pull seeking to create the right moment to unweight and sweep, to capture a limb or sink a choke, or to merely improve position.
When the player is less than top flight, less than well-conditioned, or just plain new to this type of close-range martial work, their response with pressure is far more telling. And I do not mean the mere pressure to survive repeated submission attempts or resist changes in positional advantage. I am referring to the "Holy sh!t, I can't breath, get this caveman the f@ck off me now" pressure. I am referring to a form of claustrophobia I've been contending with during this, my fourth intermittent immersion in BJJ.
In the mid/late 1990's when I first started training in BJJ as a distinct form of cross training for Rugby, the sport was new in the US. I was taught by a Blue Belt who himself had only studied for a year under the Machados. Our classes were classical "warm-up, two techniques, drill, and roll" format with everyone in the class starting from the ground level (sorry about the pun). Big and small, weak and strong, we rolled our way fit and never experienced too much disparity in the ability to exert or receive pressure. Therefore, nobody ever felt uncomfortable being underneath, being pressed physically, or having a soaked gi flopping over the head while pinned and underhooked in side control (for example).
Fast forward to 2000 or 2001. I'm enrolling in BJJ for the second time, at a new school taught by a Brazilian black belt with Ralph Gracie affiliation. Several of my new teammates have been rolling since I left my first school and the mat is littered with blue and purple belts (and a couple browns). First class back in, I'm under in north/south with a guy my size but half my strength, not the least bit threatened and THWACK! Full panic tap. Couldn't breathe, felt hopelessly, perilously trapped, and quit. I felt awful for my training partner who I robbed of a full training experience. Thankfully it never happened again as I rolled back into shape. Nor did I feel that same internal panic when enrolled in BJJ for the third time as part of that second school spun off into my third school, which I rejoined after yet another year off the mat.
Fast forward to October 2011. I enroll at that same third school, now in a new location with four times the mat area, a full stable of black belts, browns, purples, and blues; all shapes and sizes with plenty of boys who have me in size and strength by leagues! First roll, I go with a big purple who pushes me around, achieves a deep side control and starts doing the "knee-to-belly" points dance on my ass. Knee on, post and shrimp. Knee on, post and shrimp. After a couple of iterations, I gas and the next time he advances back to knee-on-belly, THWACK. Full panic tap. He looks at me sideways, with a mix of pity and regret, and cocks his head sideways in a kind of "oh well" expression. I feel awful; once I again I've deprived a teammate of a full training experience.
Yet now, a couple months in, I'm still going through an occasional panic moment, getting claustrophobic underneath. Of course I am now 49, and although I am putting in time doing the metabolic conditioning work so essential to fitness for good grappling, I am slow to improve my fitness. And although I am doing a fair bit of conscious relaxation when underneath, drawing deep breaths, nose breathing, relaxing my limbs, ungritting the teeth, etc., I still have to tap occasionally, even when not threatened. And it sucks...
To be continued.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
MMA 101
No, I do not presuppose to discuss the fundamentals of MMA as implied by the title to this post. MMA 101 is a workout I try to make once or twice a week at my gym.
The family and I came back from the beach early enough on Saturday that I was able to get in some MMA 101 on Saturday afternoon. I'll spare you the gory details of the half hour we spent working out to start the session. And the half hour that followed of non-stop focus mitt work that turned my arms to lead. What I want to mention is that I sparred a five-minute round with this guy:
Black shorts white trim. With open-faced headgear. I'm a little less handsome today than when I stepped onto the mat on Saturday afternoon.
The family and I came back from the beach early enough on Saturday that I was able to get in some MMA 101 on Saturday afternoon. I'll spare you the gory details of the half hour we spent working out to start the session. And the half hour that followed of non-stop focus mitt work that turned my arms to lead. What I want to mention is that I sparred a five-minute round with this guy:
Black shorts white trim. With open-faced headgear. I'm a little less handsome today than when I stepped onto the mat on Saturday afternoon.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Letting that Body 'Knit-up'
Trained last Friday evening, worked out hard on Saturday, and trained very hard on Monday night. This week presents an opportune moment to rest, refeed, spend time with the family and get psyched to train again this coming weekend.
This morning we have tres_arbolito's student-led parent school conference. Then we pack and head to the beach for our Thanksgiving. At some point, I'll tell you how we do the beach here in Washington. For now I'll free associate for some flavor: stormy, surfy, cozy, foody, doggy, warm-glow.
This morning we have tres_arbolito's student-led parent school conference. Then we pack and head to the beach for our Thanksgiving. At some point, I'll tell you how we do the beach here in Washington. For now I'll free associate for some flavor: stormy, surfy, cozy, foody, doggy, warm-glow.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Training Beats
The internet era has been a boon to music lovers. Once upon a time, people bought a record (yeah, we called 'em records) whenever a band they liked put out a new one. Maybe we heard the A side on the radio, the one song from the record in rotation. If we heard a song on the radio we liked and the dickwad DJ neglected to name the band and song, we were stuck waiting for the song to come back up in rotation, before we found out who was playing. And that was it for finding music we liked.
Now you hear a lyrical phrase, pump it into a search engine, and within three-hundredths of a second, you get links to sites providing the song name, band, videos of the song, guitar tabulature, and myriad places to buy the song (even a CD if we're lucky enough). I really enjoy following musical rabbit holes through the internet, frequently searching for one thing and discovering dozens more.
I like sharing music enough to occasionally want to post a video or two here. And since I want to keep the blog topical, there is a BJJ tangent to my music worship. Simply, my school rolls an ever-changing soundtrack during class. Whomever brings the iPod sets the tempo. To me this represents a great progression from the early caveman days of jiu jitsu, back when class was a flavorless package of sweat, stink, work, and grind with no color or aesthetic. I jest of course; I loved that shit then, too.
In spirit of training music and giving me a outlet for these gems I mine, I will hopefully post a few things from time to time. Music I would train to; that would motivate me through the gas and into another roll. Like this from Radio Citizen. Holla'.
Now you hear a lyrical phrase, pump it into a search engine, and within three-hundredths of a second, you get links to sites providing the song name, band, videos of the song, guitar tabulature, and myriad places to buy the song (even a CD if we're lucky enough). I really enjoy following musical rabbit holes through the internet, frequently searching for one thing and discovering dozens more.
I like sharing music enough to occasionally want to post a video or two here. And since I want to keep the blog topical, there is a BJJ tangent to my music worship. Simply, my school rolls an ever-changing soundtrack during class. Whomever brings the iPod sets the tempo. To me this represents a great progression from the early caveman days of jiu jitsu, back when class was a flavorless package of sweat, stink, work, and grind with no color or aesthetic. I jest of course; I loved that shit then, too.
In spirit of training music and giving me a outlet for these gems I mine, I will hopefully post a few things from time to time. Music I would train to; that would motivate me through the gas and into another roll. Like this from Radio Citizen. Holla'.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Working Out Instead of Training
Having trained Friday night, and planning to attend my son's infield camp on Saturday, I neglected to attend MMA class Saturday afternoon. At some point, I should write a short treatise on my life as a baseball dad, even as that might be off-topic for this blog, as it's so central to my identity. But briefly put, I attend as much of my son's stuff (workouts, practice, camps, clinics, games, and tournaments) as I can. Watching him go through his infield repetitions Saturday was a joy.
Further on, I'll write a bit of a note (maybe more) about the MMA class I do. For now, let me just say it's utterly inspiring, motivating, and devastating. As hard a class as it is, every one I attend leaves me hungry for the next.
Waking up early Saturday morning, knowing I couldn't get to MMA class, I hit the home gym and did this guy's "Fast 50" workout. Limited as I am by my knees, I remain an avid fitness freak (utterly lacking freaky fitness), and am willing to try any workout I think will pay me some on the back end. This was no exception.
During the course of the workout, I took very short (sub 30 second) breaks, did much of the work to exhaustion, and was panting the whole time. After the workout, I did 5 sets of 10 hanging leg lifts and 4x50 repetitions of my neck work. For good measure I tried swinging my homemade Bulgarian bag, but I was shot and decided to walk it out on the treadmill while watching some English Premier League on Fox Soccer Channel instead.
As of this writing, I still have soreness in my biceps tendons from the rowing, but I plan on going to BJJ tonight.
Further on, I'll write a bit of a note (maybe more) about the MMA class I do. For now, let me just say it's utterly inspiring, motivating, and devastating. As hard a class as it is, every one I attend leaves me hungry for the next.
Waking up early Saturday morning, knowing I couldn't get to MMA class, I hit the home gym and did this guy's "Fast 50" workout. Limited as I am by my knees, I remain an avid fitness freak (utterly lacking freaky fitness), and am willing to try any workout I think will pay me some on the back end. This was no exception.
During the course of the workout, I took very short (sub 30 second) breaks, did much of the work to exhaustion, and was panting the whole time. After the workout, I did 5 sets of 10 hanging leg lifts and 4x50 repetitions of my neck work. For good measure I tried swinging my homemade Bulgarian bag, but I was shot and decided to walk it out on the treadmill while watching some English Premier League on Fox Soccer Channel instead.
As of this writing, I still have soreness in my biceps tendons from the rowing, but I plan on going to BJJ tonight.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
BJJ 101
On Friday nights, my son (I'll call him tres_arbolitos) throws a bullpen under the studied eye of his pitching coach. His bullpen session lasts one-half hour to 45 minutes depending on whether coach shoots some video and the two of them review it together at the end. Then after 15 minutes break, tres_arbolitos goes through the third of his three weekly strength and conditioning sessions with the two program S&C coaches. Together, these sessions consume about two to two and a half hours. Some would call that a lot of work. A gnarly old guy calls that an opportunity to run down to FBJJ for some training.
This past Friday night, while my son went through his pitching, lifting, and sand pit work (sorry, I don't miss a minute of his pitching or hitting work), I skedaddled over to the dojo (do they even call it that anymore?) and took in FBJJ's "BJJ 101" class. Even though I have about two accumulated years in BJJ, I made a conscious decision when I signed up last month to completely abandon my ego and start at the bottom. Instead of trying to forge my way into the school hierarchy, I stand at the end of the hierarchical line that begins and ends each class. And instead of rationalizing my failure to progress in the sport through promotion and make up for it by "winning" while rolling (as I did eight years ago), I have decided to accept the maxim that there's a lesson every time I tap, even if I tap to a student with less accumulated experience than me, with less physical capacity, or less technique.
And so I embrace BJJ 101, which happened to be the first class I've attended since rejoining FBJJ in which the majority of students are white belts like me. As an aside, I suppose most BJJ schools are now well populated with blue and purple belts, and the upper belts are well represented. In contrast, when I first rolled with Coach James several years ago, he was a purple belt.
When he opened his first school, he did so wearing a brown belt and was just promoted to black belt when I left his school. Most of his students wore white. Now James has his first stripe which can be earned only after six years as a black belt. And I'm told there are 40 black belts in Washington State, only a few of whom are Brazilians who moved here with their belts. And many of these black belts have several Brown and Purples under them, as does James. To put it mildly, this is a crap load of dedication and achievement. For the uninitiated, there are only five belts in BJJ: white, blue, purple, brown, and black. The progression through each is long, requiring dedication in the form of patience, passion, and hard training.
Of course, leaving my ego at the door as a method of expressing such dedication is a calculated one. This time through, I am not just here for the rolling. I want to understand intrinsically, the sense of the progression in the sport that leads to promotion. Said another way, I am not here just to accumulate an inventory of submissions and training sessions. I am here to learn everything that occurs between the takedown and the submission. So while that makes promotion an outcome, the journey through promotion is my actual goal. To me that route for that journey is paved on a firm foundation of the principle techniques and concepts of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
Which is exactly what I got a nice dose of in BJJ 101 as Rick took us through five sweeps from the guard; things I knew (well I knew four of them) but had yet to find the trigger for during rolling over the past two months. Now instead of the mind going straight from A to D, I have been reminded to go from A to B first.
This past Friday night, while my son went through his pitching, lifting, and sand pit work (sorry, I don't miss a minute of his pitching or hitting work), I skedaddled over to the dojo (do they even call it that anymore?) and took in FBJJ's "BJJ 101" class. Even though I have about two accumulated years in BJJ, I made a conscious decision when I signed up last month to completely abandon my ego and start at the bottom. Instead of trying to forge my way into the school hierarchy, I stand at the end of the hierarchical line that begins and ends each class. And instead of rationalizing my failure to progress in the sport through promotion and make up for it by "winning" while rolling (as I did eight years ago), I have decided to accept the maxim that there's a lesson every time I tap, even if I tap to a student with less accumulated experience than me, with less physical capacity, or less technique.
And so I embrace BJJ 101, which happened to be the first class I've attended since rejoining FBJJ in which the majority of students are white belts like me. As an aside, I suppose most BJJ schools are now well populated with blue and purple belts, and the upper belts are well represented. In contrast, when I first rolled with Coach James several years ago, he was a purple belt.
When he opened his first school, he did so wearing a brown belt and was just promoted to black belt when I left his school. Most of his students wore white. Now James has his first stripe which can be earned only after six years as a black belt. And I'm told there are 40 black belts in Washington State, only a few of whom are Brazilians who moved here with their belts. And many of these black belts have several Brown and Purples under them, as does James. To put it mildly, this is a crap load of dedication and achievement. For the uninitiated, there are only five belts in BJJ: white, blue, purple, brown, and black. The progression through each is long, requiring dedication in the form of patience, passion, and hard training.
Of course, leaving my ego at the door as a method of expressing such dedication is a calculated one. This time through, I am not just here for the rolling. I want to understand intrinsically, the sense of the progression in the sport that leads to promotion. Said another way, I am not here just to accumulate an inventory of submissions and training sessions. I am here to learn everything that occurs between the takedown and the submission. So while that makes promotion an outcome, the journey through promotion is my actual goal. To me that route for that journey is paved on a firm foundation of the principle techniques and concepts of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
Which is exactly what I got a nice dose of in BJJ 101 as Rick took us through five sweeps from the guard; things I knew (well I knew four of them) but had yet to find the trigger for during rolling over the past two months. Now instead of the mind going straight from A to D, I have been reminded to go from A to B first.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Gnarly Old Guy II
I suppose I always knew the day was coming. I wrecked my left knee in college playing rugby. In 1983, there was no state of the art for Anterior Cruciate Ligament reconstruction. This was an injury that used to end sports careers, not merely delay them for a few months of rehabilitation, etc. I lived with that unstable knee for eight years, doing untold further damage, until I had an ACL arthoplasty in 1991. And now all of that damage has come home to roost.
Being told that a knee replacement will help manage the daily pain but require real lifestyle change is not unexpected, but is still bittersweet. I choose to live life hard and get the most my body has to offer because I want to know what the "most" is. Self aware persons that live hard most assuredly know that all that physical fun will end, perhaps even abruptly at some point in life. But when the moment arrives, we experience something not unlike facing our own mortality. We've been told, "this is the end" of how we view ourselves as individuals, and a new, different person (read: limited version of your former self) will live the rest of your life.
And so I know I need my knee replaced. It hurts all the time. I stopped running a couple years ago and now can barely even squirt across the street to beat the Don't Walk sign. But I have not been convinced to take the rest of that physical step back. Of all the crap I've tried and enjoyed, I still want (and believe I can) keep with it for my own entertainment and satisfaction (even if it hurts now). Surfing, skiing, paddleboarding, boxing (Thai and western), swimming, hard workouts, rugby, ice hockey...all of it. The pragmatic me says, "Look, I retired from rugby at 40, and ice hockey a few years after that. Those were big steps for me. My orthopedist says I can still hit the snow a few times a year if I switch from skis to a board (umm, yeah, twist my arm). But that's a few trips a year. Can't I continue doing something hard and fun after knee replacement? Something that might be a physical challenge, like one of the several fighting sports I've enjoyed?"
The answer, pragmatic me knows, is "no." And so I told Doctor R (did I mention he's a great physician?), "let's wait another year." Immediately, I texted (I'm not "that" old) my old Brazilian Jiu Jitsu instructor, the one from my last school, and told him I was coming in to catch a submission grappling class and would be signing up again. He was stoked in his casual, very friendly way, welcoming me as though we'd never lost touch (actually we hadn't thanks to Facebook). The new school location is reasonably close to my home and several class times overlap my son's nightly baseball workouts, eliminating inconvenience for the family. And so in October I signed up and became, the 50-year old white belt.
Being told that a knee replacement will help manage the daily pain but require real lifestyle change is not unexpected, but is still bittersweet. I choose to live life hard and get the most my body has to offer because I want to know what the "most" is. Self aware persons that live hard most assuredly know that all that physical fun will end, perhaps even abruptly at some point in life. But when the moment arrives, we experience something not unlike facing our own mortality. We've been told, "this is the end" of how we view ourselves as individuals, and a new, different person (read: limited version of your former self) will live the rest of your life.
And so I know I need my knee replaced. It hurts all the time. I stopped running a couple years ago and now can barely even squirt across the street to beat the Don't Walk sign. But I have not been convinced to take the rest of that physical step back. Of all the crap I've tried and enjoyed, I still want (and believe I can) keep with it for my own entertainment and satisfaction (even if it hurts now). Surfing, skiing, paddleboarding, boxing (Thai and western), swimming, hard workouts, rugby, ice hockey...all of it. The pragmatic me says, "Look, I retired from rugby at 40, and ice hockey a few years after that. Those were big steps for me. My orthopedist says I can still hit the snow a few times a year if I switch from skis to a board (umm, yeah, twist my arm). But that's a few trips a year. Can't I continue doing something hard and fun after knee replacement? Something that might be a physical challenge, like one of the several fighting sports I've enjoyed?"
The answer, pragmatic me knows, is "no." And so I told Doctor R (did I mention he's a great physician?), "let's wait another year." Immediately, I texted (I'm not "that" old) my old Brazilian Jiu Jitsu instructor, the one from my last school, and told him I was coming in to catch a submission grappling class and would be signing up again. He was stoked in his casual, very friendly way, welcoming me as though we'd never lost touch (actually we hadn't thanks to Facebook). The new school location is reasonably close to my home and several class times overlap my son's nightly baseball workouts, eliminating inconvenience for the family. And so in October I signed up and became, the 50-year old white belt.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
11/11/11 Workout
Yesterday being the 11th day of November, 2011 (11/11/11), I decided to create and complete a new workout before spending the rest of the day with my 13 year old son. The workout consisted of 11 exercises for which I did 11 sets of 11 repetitions each. For the mathematically challenged, that's 1331 repetitions of chins/pull-ups, push-ups, dips, kettlebell swings, bear walks, burpees, mountain climbers, hanging L-sits, crunches, and Bulgarian bag swings. Nuts. But I have the sickness. And it takes work being gnarly.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Gnarly Old Guy
I will be 50 this year. I am a white belt in the fighting style of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ). My history in the sport is long but extremely intermittent. I played for a while at this Brazilian derivative of Japanese Judo and Jujitsu when the Ultimate Fighting Championship was young. New even. And even back then, over 13 years ago, I would have competed in the masters category of the sporting branch of the Jiu Jitsu tree. If I'd just stayed with the sport I'd be a striped back belt by now. And I would own you.
My first departure from the study of BJJ, I casually left the practice as my first teacher moved to Southern California to train and compete under the preeminent Machado Brothers BJJ banner. I thought little of dropping the practice as I went back to playing Men's Rugby and Ice Hockey, my first loves in sport. These pursuits continued into my mid-40s, until knee and back issues dating all the way back to my collegiate rugby and hockey days began to interfere with my performance and enjoyment of those games.
The whole while I played rugby and hockey, a funny thing kept happening in my life. I never lost interest in the fight sports, especially mixed martial arts (MMA) and boxing. I met a Muay Thai boxing instructor who ran a school with a stable of low-level pro and amateur fighters in Tacoma, and began training there while still playing rugby.
Then, I moved to a new neighborhood just south of Seattle and discovered that the legacy of that first BJJ school (in fact the first in the Seattle area) was alive and prospering in the shopping center we frequented in our new neighborhood. I signed on there for a year, but the school moved once again, back to Seattle's north end, and my inability to commute and train took me out of the game again for a year or so.
Then one of the several great teammates I had at this second school went and opened his own school in a place more convenient to my work and family life. I loved training at his new school. I only left after I tired of the laziness in my practice; laziness that prevented me from getting better in the game. It didn't help that a new opportunity to play hockey unfolded for me.
I went on to enjoy several more years of ice, despite the pain in my knees. I also developed and carried on the life of a sports dad, as my son emerged as a super, young baseball talent. Tracking my son's progress in baseball and completely swept up in the family lifestyle of youth sports, I thought playing BJJ and following MMA were things of my past.
And then, just a couple of months ago, I consulted my favorite physician, an orthopedic surgeon, about replacing my left knee. Confronting the reality of lifestyle change associated with complete knee arthoplasty was stark and made me consider living the rest of my life without certain activities. Surprisingly, he said I'd be able to continue surfing, swimming, and paddleboarding; other activities that I adore and chase with passion. But no more kneeling or twisting impact. No more fight training. No more grappling.
To be continued...
My first departure from the study of BJJ, I casually left the practice as my first teacher moved to Southern California to train and compete under the preeminent Machado Brothers BJJ banner. I thought little of dropping the practice as I went back to playing Men's Rugby and Ice Hockey, my first loves in sport. These pursuits continued into my mid-40s, until knee and back issues dating all the way back to my collegiate rugby and hockey days began to interfere with my performance and enjoyment of those games.
The whole while I played rugby and hockey, a funny thing kept happening in my life. I never lost interest in the fight sports, especially mixed martial arts (MMA) and boxing. I met a Muay Thai boxing instructor who ran a school with a stable of low-level pro and amateur fighters in Tacoma, and began training there while still playing rugby.
Then, I moved to a new neighborhood just south of Seattle and discovered that the legacy of that first BJJ school (in fact the first in the Seattle area) was alive and prospering in the shopping center we frequented in our new neighborhood. I signed on there for a year, but the school moved once again, back to Seattle's north end, and my inability to commute and train took me out of the game again for a year or so.
Then one of the several great teammates I had at this second school went and opened his own school in a place more convenient to my work and family life. I loved training at his new school. I only left after I tired of the laziness in my practice; laziness that prevented me from getting better in the game. It didn't help that a new opportunity to play hockey unfolded for me.
I went on to enjoy several more years of ice, despite the pain in my knees. I also developed and carried on the life of a sports dad, as my son emerged as a super, young baseball talent. Tracking my son's progress in baseball and completely swept up in the family lifestyle of youth sports, I thought playing BJJ and following MMA were things of my past.
And then, just a couple of months ago, I consulted my favorite physician, an orthopedic surgeon, about replacing my left knee. Confronting the reality of lifestyle change associated with complete knee arthoplasty was stark and made me consider living the rest of my life without certain activities. Surprisingly, he said I'd be able to continue surfing, swimming, and paddleboarding; other activities that I adore and chase with passion. But no more kneeling or twisting impact. No more fight training. No more grappling.
To be continued...
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