Some Thoughts on Goal Setting

The last two weeks of 2011, I put in very little training. My last BJJ session of the year was more than two weeks ago, and an unsatisfying one at that. Last training at all was eight days ago; an incomplete, "let's this over with" boxing workout with Bobbi on the mitts, and no sparring. I had my chances. But I regularly gave into, "aw, I don't really want to roll" instincts that crept into my mind even after thinking "I can't wait to train tonight" all day long. Rationalizing is for losers. I hate it. But I was guilty of it everyday. One of the BJJ bloggers I read now once wrote "always go in when you think you don't want to and skip it sometimes when you think you do want it." At least I did something everyday to stay fit ;-).

Another popular BJJ blog post over the past couple of weeks has been "my personal goals for 2012." Seemingly and perhaps fittingly, the more experienced the practitioner, the better the goals seem to focus. There are, after all, rules for good goal setting. Rules that if followed, make for better or at least more efficient accomplishment of the stuff of one's goals.

In one of the myriad leadership courses I've attended in my professional life, I was taught the "SMART" approach to goal setting; SMART being an acronym for "specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and timely." Here's a nice quick reference post on "SMART." Being familiar with the ideals in SMART goal setting, and thinking that a small package of goals might focus my effort in and increase my enjoyment of BJJ training in 2012, I'll use the approach when I finally sit down to set the table for the year.

In the mean time, here are a few aspirations I won't be considering goals for the year, and why they don't make the grade:

1. Earn a blue belt. Certainly a specific and timely aspiration; maybe even a realistic one. But the measure and attainability of promotion in BJJ is something that the practitioner has input into but no real control over. BJJ teaching has refined over the past decade by leaps and bounds, and many schools have developed curricula defining the difference between white and blue, blue and purple etc. However, the decision to promote still comes down to an instructor's subjective observation of many criteria, the integration of which the practitioner cannot objectively manage. Promotion is an aspiration not goal.

2. Train four times a week. A training volume plan sounds goal-like, but it's not. It might be specific and measurable, but it's not realistic or attainable. If I'm to believe many of the good BJJ writers out there, four times a week would be humble at most and therefore certainly attainable. Seeing that everyone I read appears to be training six or more times a week. And doing their S&C work. And yoga. And surfing. If you're one of those, then holy crap you have my utmost respect and have engendered in me a deep vein of jealousy that would lead me to punch you in the face if we ever met. But if you go one week where you don't train that volume? Goal not met.

I already know even a modest four sessions is unattainable. Sure there will be weeks I train four or more times. But, I'm 49, an accomplished professional doing Federal natural resources policy analysis in a politically difficult field (aka, I have a 'real' job). I have a 13 year old son putting in six days a week in top flight travel baseball. My wife is a professional high achiever working long hours for low pay as the nominal head of a non-profit that protects the environment. Our weekly family life is so fluid and transactional that I can never count on slipping into BJJ training while my wife hosts a board meeting, or my son does his own S&C and meets with his pitching or hitting coach. Aspiration not goal.

3. Submit more, tap less. Not specific. And besides, that's not my mindset to begin with. I came back to BJJ this year after 8 or so years since I last rolled, determined to leave my ego completely out of my practice. This approach has enabled me to completely avoid the disappointment that my body no longer works the way it used to, and my mental state is vulnerable because my body doesn't work the same as it used to. If my ego was tied to my practice now, I'd be done.

So I know what my goals aren't. I'll have to do a little more thinking on what my goals for the year are and write them here when I get the chance.

Training Beats II

Oh my goodness!  "I like them think and juicy so pilates nothing!"

Crazy-ass Christmas

Got the turkey in the oven around 10-ish and jumped into a mixed-metabolic/ boxing workout that I was at once loving and hating.  Once I was a sufficient jump roper and I am intent on jumping rope for three minute rounds again, on end.  For now, I have my ring timer set for three minute rounds and I jump until I can't, take a breather, then resume again until the round ends; for three rounds.  I am well aware that the last time I spent any significant time in a boxing mode was about ten years ago with Chaisai Muay Thai when I was still fresh off my rugby career, and fairly fit even at 220 pounds.  Presently, I weigh the same but haven't done much more than swim for fitness for the past five years.

About 75 minutes into my workout, the power went out.  Not that that should have put an immediate end to my workout (even the the volume was getting a bit high at that point).  However, with family members and friends from all over Puget Sound converging on the house for a day of merriment, we needed an action plan that involved gambling on the power staying off or coming back on, getting cleaned up in either event, and (if risk averse on the power outage) packing the whole shebang and running up or down I-5 to the nearest friend or relative's home with power.

We assumed the power to be out for the foreseeable future.  We packed the whole dinner, took "camping" style showers, and hopped I-5 for my sister-in-law's house in Tacoma, Washington.  Although I would have preferred our house, everyone delighted in the adventure, so I kept my Eeyore imitations to a minimum.  Dinner turned out great, and although the prospect of driving on Christmas day put a major dent in my drinking ambition for the day, we came out fine with a few laughs along the way.

By the way, the power was out for about an hour.

Happy Holidays

No training until later this week.  Gym's closed yesterday and today.  Going to the beach for a few days, tomorrow.  Time to work on the conditioning.  And the bodyweight.  Best of the season to the very few readers who've stopped by for a read.  Thank you.

MMA 101 Classified Ad

Wanted:  Gnarly old guy needs youthful sparring partners to push the pace.  You know where to go to get some.  Looking forward to another ten rounds in the ring, boys.

The difficult moments

Straight up BJJ with gi tonight. I knew it was going to be a tough one from the beginning when I couldn't perform one of the warm-up exercises ("dying bug"). Had some physique-based difficulty with one of the techniques (triangle from armbar on turtled opponent). Understood the technique and Bobbi is teaching these really good, incremental half-guard progressions, but my legs are short and thick. I've always struggled to put on a triangle and I hate gassing on attempted submissions.

Then I only rolled two five minute rounds and sat two out because I couldn't relax under pressure. I'm starting to doubt that my conditioning is the problem (although I'm in shit condition relative to the class). I am wondering about my asthma medication and its effectiveness for exercise induced COPD. I could barely breathe even when relaxed. I forced myself not to panic tap, but didn't defend submissions I could easily have defended.  So I was easily submitted when I could have easily defended. Bad lungs and bad mental game.

Thankfully, no ego in it either so I just want to get back on the mat as soon as I can. Boxing on Thursday and hopefully a basics class on Friday night.

72 year old purple belt...

Respect.

Hunger for training...

In surfing, the ecstatic sensation of a good session is called "stoke."  Stoke drives a nearly uncontainable desire to get back out in the line-up and surf again.  And stoke applies to most things in life, sometimes even work.

I found the video below on Friday.  I've viewed it maybe 40 or 45 times since then.  I am utterly captivated by the guard game played by these two young Brazilian brothers.  In short, they are every thing that I am not in BJJ: small, pliant beyond flexible, touch-sensitive, quick, and inventive.

By comparison, I am a ship's anchor on the mat.  Even so, watching this video gets me so stoked.  So much so that Sunday morning I had a solid BJJ class with James teaching some spider guard fundamentals and passes.  I also got to roll with a blue belt visiting from his Huntington Beach, CA school.  A first for me to train with someone outside my own school.  I keep hearing about the benefits of training with unfamiliar players and this was good for me.

So here's the video that got me so fired up for gi class this weekend.  I am especially stoked on the beat in the first rolling sequence by Ash Ryan.  Get stoked!

More MMA 101

I attended MMA 101 at Foster Brazilian Jiu Jitsu again this past Thursday night.  Although I don't intend this blog to be my training log, I should preface this note by writing that I am captivated by this class.  For about a month, I have been making more of an effort to clear my weekly schedule to get in for MMA workout and the boxing than I have for my good, old BJJ gi classes.  I am aware of that.  I feel guilty about it and with my teacher in the process of populating his YouTube channel with his fine technique videos, I really want more "Jits" (as the kids call it these days).  Real life and the typically overwhelming schedule of a married dad in his late 40's have intervened to limit my class attendance to three or fewer times a week. As a result, I'm attending an equal number of BJJ gi classes and MMA training, and this is a prescription for stagnancy in my BJJ.

OK, enough of the momentary, Saturday morning guilt tripping.  As a 49 year old practitioner back to the mats this Fall after seven or eight years of rationalized, regressive approaches toward my fitness, I identified increased general physical preparation as my highest priority in my quest to regain my gameness.  I stopped swimming. I reacquainted myself with metabolic training, high volume bodyweight workouts, grip training, and yoga.  These choices made to set a table for progress in BJJ into my 50's.  My goal this time is staying with the process and not shift my ever-ADD-limited attention to other physical pursuits that might offer less ultimate frustration, etc.  Because BJJ was always frustrating to me.

I started attending MMA 101 because I wanted the complete exposure to the demands of MMA fitness training.  I boxed in my twenties, trained Muay Thai with Kru Alberto Ramirez in my 30's, and knew the MMA workout would be my most efficient route to fitness for the demands of serious rolling.  Serious rolling that would enable some real progress as a BJJ practioner rather than a hobby roller as I had been when I last trained in the discipline.

The FBJJ website humbly describes the MMA 101 class like this:

MMA 101 (Mixed Martial Arts for beginners)
In the MMA 101 class we work on striking, takedowns, and submission grappling. These are all essential ingredients for a very well rounded fighter. The term "MMA" was made popular by fight events such as Ultimate Fighting. MMA simply stands for "Mixed Martial Arts", which is just as stated, a mix of different styles to create a well rounded practitioner. Most of the MMA 101 students wear a rash guard or t-shirt and a form of sport or fight shorts to train in. To see an example of common rash guards and fight shorts, visit the links section and take a look at the merchandise links. The MMA 101 class is ideal for those looking to get in great condition, as well as those who want to build a solid foundation and possibly look towards a career in MMA.

Everything James writes there is true.  But details matter and what he doesn't mention is that while the fight-curious crowd can get something out of this class (not a disparaging term as I include myself in that group), these sessions attract the gamest athletes in the school.  Regular participants include several guys with amateur MMA records.  Class is occasionally led by Josh, a young professional fighter presently getting some casting attention from the UFC offshoot "The Ultimate Fighter" television program on Spike TV.  He is a great young guy, but he also a real fucking fighter.  He means business and when he breaks the training and calls for sparring, you will fight him stand up.  And he doesn't baby anybody; even the 49-year-old moron who thought it might be fun to start fight-training again at the height of his career as a lawyer in a federal government program.

James has emerged as a go-to BJJ coach for aspiring MMA fighters in the greater Puget Sound region.  He presently trains several guys fighting at various professional promotions in the sport.  The most prominent is Jeff "Hellbound" Hougland, a mild-spoken guy with his own fight training business in Enumclaw, Washington.  Jeff has a UFC bout with James in his corner.  The network these men have created provides some cross-pollination of the MMA program at FBJJ, all for the benefit of an idiot, aging physical culturist like me.

Dealing with Pressure--Grappling Claustrophobia 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my experience with claustrophobia when rolling.  I did a little online seeking and found that while truly bothersome, the anxiety I experience while under even moderate pressure is recognized and not uncommon.

I also found that many who suffer from some form of panic under pressure attribute their issues to their lack of fitness or conditioning.  Apparently, while conditioning can be a factor in confronting or leading to the onset of panic while being controlled, the issue is somewhat larger than that and belongs in a broad category of "phobias."  But phobias are treatable, and relate emotional or psychological responses to perceived threat.  As such, the sufferer can learn to work with a phobia and overcome or at least adapt to it.

Good old googling led me to this article at Stephen Kesting's Grapplearts web site.  The article, inspired by a letter from a reader, inspired a long chain of responsive comments.  The comments, mostly anecdotal accounts from those experiencing and addressing panic while rolling, were extremely valuable to me in my attempt to accept and move through or past my phobia.

Just knowing others experience that sense of dread, and experience that overwhelming impulse to tap even when not in imminent danger, is comforting to me.  And many of the anecdotal prescriptions contained in the comments contain reasonable approaches to addressing anxiety and worth a try.

I'm training MMA tonight and looking to box several rounds, but hopefully will attend one or more gi classes this weekend.  And in doing so, I hope to further confront my current bout with grappling claustrophobia.

Fitness and Aging

Aging is inevitable.  But the manner in which we involve ourselves in our own aging is a highly personal process. My aging experience included (until recently) a natural gravity toward relaxation and a decrease in the sorts of activity that had really framed most of my physical life into my mid-40's. I assumed I was enjoying the natural progression of an aging athlete.  Having devoted so much of my life to preparation for participation in school, college, and competitive post-collegiate sports, I thought I had earned less work and more enjoyment.

As a result, I decreased and almost eliminated any systematic strength training. I did jump into into serious fitness swimming.  But I also began stocking a bar at home with all manner of boutique whiskey and high-brow, small batch tequila. I figured the swimming handled my overall cardiovascular health in a way that enabled me engage a well-deserved emergence into a sort of middle-aged epicurean-ism. I had arrived at a time in life when I thought I had earned fine food, fine drink, and the occasional cigar. And wouldn't four days a week in the pool keep me fit enough to ward off heart disease, hypertension, stress, and prepare me for my occasional but still serious passion for surfing?

Beside, articles like this one in the New York Times certainly affirm a conventional wisdom that for folks in middle age and beyond, even a little bit of activity goes a long way to moderating the effects of aging on ones body. But the popular press has always done a poor job providing the public with authentic information on fitness and its relationship to the effects aging, and this article, among many does not paint a complete picture.

For most ex- or aging athletes, an hour or two in the garden or a couple of weekly bike rides might provide some psychic benefit; which should not be entirely dismissed. But that type of activity will have no bearing on continuing physical capacity to do real, stressful work over prolonged periods of time.

And the truth of the matter is that despite my enthusiasm for the pool, the blood work from my age-49 physical revealed exceptionally high serum lipids, unhealthful cholesterol, and low testosterone. My blood pressure was in a dangerous range.  And the only good marker I showed was high vitamin D (for a Seattle-ite). Despite the reputed value of vitamin D for our sense of well-being, that news did little to lift my mood.

How did I respond? Did a little reading on what affects lipid levels in the blood. Eliminated for a while, the easiest of the usual suspects (red meat, whole eggs, butter). Also emptied and then did not refill the bar as apparently hard alcohol can spike lipids. Who fucking knew. Finally, I gave in and went on blood pressure and cholesterol medications for the first time in my life. And I began a supplement regimen to address the effects of aging on my hormones, otherwise known as "man-o-pause."

I firmly believe these changes affected my attitude toward where my fitness regime had gone and precipitated my desire to get back on the mat. Furthermore, my change of routine led to a change of heart that inspired my present desire to step into the ring every week with trained fighters and get the snot kicked out of me while I vainly return blows veiled in 16 ounce thai-style sparring gloves.

Regularly working to the edge of one's physical and mental capacity while getting whacked around by a pro-fighter is not everyone's prescription for meeting the effects aging, but it is mine.  I'd like to see this through to some eventual highpoint that intersects with the end of my ability to improve further for my age.  That nexus is out there; but for the moment, I still believe I'm on an upswing that I can sustain for the foreseeable future.  And for the moment, I am really looking forward to getting back in the ring again, tomorrow night.

Ugh...

Skipped training to prepare my annual contribution to office holiday party. Chicken saltimbocca. This is supposed to be fun yet I am so full of resentment. Get off my lawn.

Old Man Working Out

I'm still working on that sparring essay. In the mean time (did you know that the actual term is "mesne" time? But that's a subject for another time.), wife and son have business in Seattle this morning and I'll be meeting up with them at son's infield practice about lunch time. So I have the morning to myself.

What does a 50-year-old white belt do with his time when he's motivated and full-up on free time Saturday morning? Clean house, yard work, walk dog? How about this workout instead: "3X3's"

1) Three sets of jump rope, 35 pound kettlebell swings, wall punches on the heavy bag with 16 ounce gloves; 1:05 work to 0:40 rest; in circuit; five minute rest and water.

2) Three sets of hanging leg raises held at top, dips, chin-ups in "Half's" (If 20 lifts, then 10 dips, and 5 chins, etc) in circuit; five minute rest and water.

3) Three sets of high intensity continuous training on the single speed bike on the trainer; 2 minutes full intensity, 1 minute spin, trainer set at "3". Neck and grip work to finish and cool down.

 Accompanied by Tupac:

How to Get Punched in the Face and Feel Good About It

Last night I attended MMA class at my school. After a shadow boxing warm-up, we did a half hour of grueling punch mitt work, and then straight into sparring. We had three rings going simultaneously, and I managed to go six, 5-minute rounds, before getting absolutely cooked. In that set, I managed two rounds with one of the resident pro's. These rounds were as exhilarating as they were exhausting. I scored but he beat the crap out of me. Hopefully later today I'll sit down to write an essay on what it's like to do work with a pro fighter.

Some people...

If I keep to this blog and you continue to read it for any length of time, you'll learn a few things about me and my family.  One of those things is that I live in Seattle but work in Olympia, Washington about 55 miles south, making for regular commuting in sometimes awful conditions on Interstate 5.  I've been making this commute for most of the past 17 years.  In that time, I believe I have learned most all I need to know about human nature.

I honestly believe you can learn all you need to know about a person based on how they behave in traffic generally, and toward other individual drivers in particular.  As far as I can tell, most people have a basic sense of fairness and safety that inform how they drive.  Others, for whatever reason, behave as though traffic is a game that they might win or lose, forcing them to either make life harder for an individual driver (for example speeding up to prevent merging in front, tailgating, intentional cutting off) or just plain blithely driving as though there are no fellow travelers on the highway to work.  While most people will allow a driver "needing" to get over to change lanes in front of them (hopefully followed by the internationally recognized "thanks-a-bunch" wave), some will speed up as though allowing the merge puts them further behind in the game of Traffic Life.

This morning, just as I pulled onto the arterial street leaving my block, a pair of headlights came screaming up behind me from well over a quarter mile behind.  Those headlights trailed me impatiently no further than five feet behind (objects are closer than they appear), for several turns to the next stop.  I slowed to cross one of the two speed bumps installed in our neighborhood to chill traffic near an elementary school, and caught brief site in the rear view of a woman fervently saluting me with her middle finger.  We approached the next intersection marking the first opportunity to split traffic leaving the neighborhood; I stayed on the arterial and had barely cleared the intersection when she blasted forward on the alternate route.

Now, I can be as intense as the next guy, but I've riding a nice calmness since training last night, and I thought to myself, "go ahead, you win."  I proceeded on my way, made a couple of turns, and just as I approached the the intersection where the alternative side route rejoins the main one, she blasted through the stop sign, 15 feet in front of me, for all her effort.  Only to be caught behind the Waste Management truck making make-up pickups in the neighborhood :-).  And all of this happened within the first minute of driving this morning, well before I even started the I-5 shuffle.

So what the hell does this have to do with brazilian jiu jitsu?  Well I was thinking about some comments I heard Joe Rogan make about the value of practicing BJJ; not for the purpose of becoming a badass, but for the purpose of learning that you just cannot know who is a badass.  He said something like this:

“Jiu-Jitsu is good for you … It’s good to get your ass-kicked. It’s good for you to know how easy it is for a man to kick your ass too. It’s good for you to get destroyed. It’s good for you to get mounted and triangle choked.  It’s good because you realize how easy it is for someone to do that to you. Because most people have no idea.  They walk through this world having no idea of how some Marcelo Garcia character can just fuckin’ take your life any time he wanted to."

Now say what you will about Joe.  I love him.  He smokes a lot of dope and does stand-up for a living.  So what.  He's a bright, curious, thoughtful character, and a charismatic dude.  And he makes a good point about humility that has everything to do with how people treat eachother when anonymously encased in a 2-ton metal and plastic coffin.  If "RAV4-middle-finger-mom," or "borderline-IQ-lifted-pick-up-truck-guy" had a clue, they might travel the world with a little more humility, treat their fellow travelers with a little more basic courtesy (let alone respect), and have an easier day of it.

Joe's entire commentary can be seen here:

Whoops there goes a week...

I last trained on Tuesday evening a week ago.  While I have been monitoring myself very closely since restarting BJJ to protect against injury and over-training, a week break at this point was not in the plans.  I am especially disappointed because last class involved some attention to the types of details on which I am focusing in an attempt to be a better BJJ student this time around.  And in that class, I had ample opportunity to work some of those details into rolling.  But a busy week for my wife, my son's crushing baseball schedule, and my sparring gear order failing to arrive on schedule, put me out of the school for the week.  I did blast through another really good conditioning workout on my own, stealing some ideas from this guy, this guy, and combining them with ideas from this guy.  I head to tonight's class glad to be back in it.

Dealing with Pressure--Grappling Claustrophobia 1

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.

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.

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.

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'.

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.

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.

Are you kidding me? Off Topic

Always digging up these gems.  Old boy's got a little groovy too.

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.

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.

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...