Training Diary - Dirty White Belt

March 28, 2014

The Union of Yoga And BJJ

Since I was six years old, I’ve been doing yoga in one form or another. Over the past three years, though, my jiu-jitsu training has relegated my yoga practice to an occasional enterprise.

This isn’t abnormal for me. My yoga practice has always run in cycles. Thankfully, over the past few months I’ve been able to work more yoga into the routine, usually two or three times a week. That’s one class of hatha yoga and one or two classes of Bikram yoga — the kind you practice in an artificially hot room.

Both have real benefits. And I’m not the only one who thinks so! From Rickson Gracie to Sebastian Broche‘s Yoga For BJJ project, the old school and the new seem to concur that yoga helps with your training and your life. Nick Gregoriades of the Jiu-Jitsu Brotherhood, a Roger Gracie black belt, says that he finds yoga to be “by far the most effective” additional training method.

Let me drop 10 things yoga does for your jiu-jitsu, some of which are meant to be taken more seriously than others.

1. Flexibility. This is the most obvious one. Yoga is always going to improve your ability to bend, which has a wide array of benefits. And Bikram Yoga’s 100-plus degree room ensures you’ll be warm when you begin.

I don’t have any photos of me doing Bikram yoga. This is totally me as far as you know.

To be honest, though, I find jiu-jitsu improves my flexibility for yoga just as much as the converse. The positions we find ourselves in while training are different than yoga postures, so I think these two activities are self-supporting.

2. Injury Prevention. Injury is the enemy. Although Dalton from Road House once astutely observed that “pain don’t hurt,” an injury does keep you off the mat, which is way worse than feeling pain. As a smaller person, I’ve been squashed in numerous different positions. Without the strength and flexibility I’ve built through years of yoga, instead of discomfort several of those positions would have caused time off from jiu-jitsu. Staying on one mat helps you stay on the other.

3. Healthy Habits. Making healthy choices creates a positive feedback loop. If you eat poorly, you feel badly, and you don’t train. If you don’t train, you feel badly, and avoid training. One of the benefits of jiu-jitsu is also a benefit of yoga: it encourages that positive feedback loop. We all know we should drink more water, for example. But get up for a Bikram yoga class, and that will come into stark relief. You’ll drink that water, you’ll feel better, and you’ll have more fun training jiu-jitsu later. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I'm supposed to drink more than a gallon of water a day. I knocked out 72 ounces before 8 a.m. this morning thanks to a 6 a.m. Bikram class. — I’m supposed to drink more than a gallon of water a day. I knocked out 72 ounces before 8 a.m. this morning thanks to a 6 a.m. Bikram class.

4. Balance. True, the best way to get good at something is to do a lot of it. I’m a huge believer in training jiu-jitsu to get good at jiu-jitsu. But so much of jiu-jitsu is about getting on top and staying there that balance shouldn’t be understated. So many yoga postures provide the balance and strength that help you avoid sweeps. The Bikram balancing series is challenging even for seasoned athletes, and I’m sure it has helped me dance out of De La Riva sweeps more than once.

5. The Ego Check. Again, this is something that jiu-jitsu is also wonderful for. We’ve all seen the young, dieseled up MMA fighter come into a jiu-jitsu gym and get submitted by the lady, the old guy, and the small guy. There is always something humbling in training.

But yoga comes with a different type of ego control. Even when I’m in my best shape, there are grandmothers who can do postures better than I can, who can hold poses longer and somehow maintain serenity while I’m dying. This keeps you mindful and humble.

It’s here that I want to quote Sebastian Broche: “The more Yoga and BJJ you practice, the more you will realize that the essence in the two is the same, and everything you learn in Yoga can be immediately applied on the mat.” It’s true!

6. Laundry. I’m the sweaty guy in the gym anyway. I bring two towels to Bikram yoga classes and when class is done, they’re both soaked. Working hard for 90 minutes in a 110 degree room makes you thirsty for a reason, and all the water has to have gone somewhere.

This leads to the World’s Toughest Laundry. I might not be able to tap you, but my laundry can beat up your laundry, or at least asphyxiate it. At least you can say to your romantic partner when they sniff your car with derision, “no, I didn’t leave a stinky gi in the car this time.”

7. Great Early Morning Training. I do 6 a.m. drilling twice a week. I am deeply grateful for the training partners I have who get up with me, because most gyms don’t have pre-work classes. Many yoga studios do, however, and it’s a tremendous way to start the day. That’s in no small part because of …

8. Mental Strength. There’s a lot to this particular intangible. Personally, I don’t find it hard to find motivation when I’m training jiu-jitsu. Someone is trying to choke me and bend my limbs the wrong way: that’s incentive enough. Yoga presents different mental challenges: the ability to stay focused, to stay calm, and to focus precisely on one’s breath. And you don’t have anyone else challenging you, so you have to find your own fortitude.

When I did a seminar with the great Rickson Gracie, he said learning breath techniques was the second-most important thing he ever did (after jiu-jitsu itself). So there you go.

If Rickson does it, you might think about doing it, too.

9. Weight Loss. I’m not a big believer in “weight loss” in and of itself. I think we should eat healthy, train hard, and however many pounds our healthy body is, that’s just fine. But in reality, especially here in America, many peoples’ fitness goals include weight loss. Yoga is a relatively low-impact way for people carrying extra pounds to get to their goals in a steady, healthy fashion.

Also, you may have noticed: jiu-jitsu competitions have weight classes. Do absolute, but if you need to get into a particular weight class, also do yoga.

Finally,

10. [Something Different]. I mean “something different” in two senses here: yoga is something different to diversify your training, but I also expect you will find benefits to yoga that are different than the items on this list. Like jiu-jitsu, there are numerous benefits to the practice that vary from person to person. What I’ve listed are the reasons I have: your list may (and should) include something different.

Yoga means union. If you’re looking to unite your jiu-jitsu training with another system, yoga might be for you.

March 25, 2014

Training, Failure and Videotape

My basic butterfly sweep has never worked.

I mean that literally. The most basic of butterfly guard sweeps, and I’ve never been able to pull it off against anyone save a brand-new white belt with no sense of what “base” means. This despite the fact that I, by virtue of my small size as well as personal preference, spend a lot of time working on my guard.

Now, if you know me — or if you read this blog — you know that I am obsessive about getting better at jiu-jitsu. I train a lot, drill, take privates, go to seminars, watch videos, read books, you name it. Yet this most basic jiu-jitsu technique eluded me at every turn. For more than three years.

Until last night. My instructor — a black belt under Royce Gracie — was watching me drill it, and immediately noticed two small but vital mistakes I was making. The sweep works now. It took him probably two minutes of instruction.

You might have heard that Royce Gracie, head of my association, recently criticized the online training program Gracie University. For me, the butterfly sweep incident clarified in my mind one of the reasons why online training, absent qualified in-person instruction, is nonsensical.

This man knows a thing or two about teaching jiu-jitsu.

I feel deeply fortunate to be living in a time when we have access to all these training resources that the people who came before me didn’t have. My teachers came up in a time when having a black (or even a brown) belt around was extremely rare. What videos they could get were expensive, infrequent and took a long time to ship. Failing to take advantage of these training supplements would be silly.

That’s what they are, though: supplements, not substitutes. The way I was doing (well, failing at) the butterfly sweep for the past few years looked exactly like it did in the books and videos. It was enormously frustrating that I couldn’t get it to work during live sparring, even after a ton of drilling.

This doesn’t have to be a butterfly sweep, of course. It could be any basic technique. If you’re just repeating what you see in videos, it is nigh impossible to correct errors. You might spend, oh, a few years doing something incorrectly. Without someone experienced to ask questions, you could waste valuable time . Worse, without meaningful live sparring, you might not even really know you’re making move-killing mistakes.

Or you could train with a legitimate instructor who can fix your problem in minutes.

This seems like an easy decision to me. Bear in mind also: I am a jiu-jitsu-obsessed, guard-playing, Internet dweller who watches technique videos the way some people breathe air. I of all people should be able to recognize the value of online training.

And I do recognize its value. I’ve seen the Gracie University videos: they’re excellent. For people who want to learn more about jiu-jitsu, I think they’re great.

A few problems, though. First, there is a different between abstract knowledge (how a move works in principle) and applied knowledge (how to make a move work against a live opponent). Also, so much of a technique must be felt instead of simply seen. Where should my pressure go? What does correct posture in this position feel like? How high or low should I be? Rener and Ryron are terrific teachers. But they aren’t going to come over and diagnose your trouble with the butterfly sweep, or upa escape, or collar choke.

Besides, even the most basic sweep has so many details and moving parts that no video, no matter how long or comprehensive, can cover it in totality — while an instructor can see what you, the individual practitioner, need the most help with. The training you will get at a legitimate academy is qualitatively better than even the best online-only training site. This is a point that I don’t even really consider debatable.

Second, there is the fact that Gracie University is doing belt promotions. Personally, I try not to think about rank. Training should be an end in itself: you do it because you enjoy it, and you want to learn the art. But in an art like jiu-jitsu, where belts are earned through a ton of hard work and no small amount of pain, it’s easy to see why someone getting a blue belt through the mail after sending in video rubs many the wrong way.

Online training, I think most would agree, is a fine addition to your academy. Getting a promotion from someone who hasn’t ever rolled with you — whose hand you have never shaken — is a different matter.

blogbluebelt — Both of these men have beaten me up and shaken my hand.

The only argument for online-only training, from my perspective, is the absence of any other option. You can make a case that, for people in remote areas, training in this manner would be better than nothing. Honestly, I think this is far from a certain truth, but I can see the argument.

That’s not what’s happening, though. Students who received a blue belt through Gracie University are opening their own schools now — schools in areas with qualified black belt instructors nearby. This strikes me as unjustifiable, and frankly inexcusably disrespectful to people who have spent a decade or more earning a black belt.

I can think of lots of blue belts under Royce Gracie off the top of my head that are better than I am. Then, I think of their instructors, and how much more jiu-jitsu knowledge they have than the blue belts that beat me. Every single one of those blue belts I expect has more jiu-jitsu knowledge than the overwhelming majority (and perhaps all) of online-certified instructors. None of those blue belts, myself included, would dream of opening a school at this point.

Jiu-jitsu, it’s often said, is a journey. All long journeys worth taking contain errors, losses, setbacks. To successfully navigate journeys of this nature requires both commitment and humility.

Sometimes that means admitting that you’ve been doing a basic sweep wrong for three-plus years. Sometimes it means acknowledging that taking the easy way at first is only making the eventual trip longer — or undermining the purpose of the journey in the first place.

January 29, 2014

How Early Should I Compete?

This weekend is US Grappling’s first tournament of the year, Submission Only Greensboro, which always gets the new folks asking: is it too early for me to compete?

I’ve had a couple of these questions already, so I wanted to explain my own philosophy on this. It’s different for every person (more on that below), but here are the general principles I start from.

1. Competition Is Very Valuable Experience For Everyone.

Even if you don’t plan to be a regular medal hunter, I think you — and everyone — should give a tournament a shot.

It’s a different intensity from daily sparring, and it’s hard to find that intensity elsewhere. It gives you the opportunity to roll against people that you know nothing about, so you can’t predict what techniques are likely to come at you. And it gives you the chance to set a goal, train hard for it, and go all-out for victory once the day comes. That’s great training!

Take it from the great Royler Gracie: everyone should compete at least once.

Apart from the standard benefits of competition, consider this: your training partners probably like you. Unless you are a jerk, but if you are reading this blog, then you are not a jerk. That means even if you roll hard, like we do at my academy, they are probably trying to be technical when rolling with you and avoid doing overly terrible things to you.

My training partners are very technical, have great cardio, and are relentless. We roll hard against each other. But if I get a collar grip and there’s hair in there, I’m not going to keep my grip and pull that person’s hair. If someone gets a choke on me, but it’s not a clean choke and they can’t finish, that person is probably not going to just facecrush me and give me gi burn.

… probably.

Where medals are at stake, though? Against someone who doesn’t know you? All bets are off. Facing off against someone who has no stake in you personally, knowing that person is trying to choke you or bend your joints the wrong way — and surviving that — is a powerful thing.

When a match ends, you know that person has done their level best to beat you up. And you made it out the other side. Competition gives you that satisfaction.

2. Have The Right Attitude About Competition

Especially during the first stages of your jiu-jitsu career, you’re there to learn. Period.

Thus, I don’t generally think new people should put tremendous pressure on themselves to win when competing. Don’t misunderstand me: You should always go out there with the goal to win every match, and the attitude that you’re going to win every match.

But you should also be able to put the tournament in perspective. If you lose every match, you’ve still gained valuable knowledge and experience. Now you know what it’s like to be around the hustle and bustle of a tournament, make weight, hear someone shout your name and push you out onto a mat to grapple against someone you don’t know.

That’s a huge win for you, even if you enter four divisions and go 0-4. Very few people compete their best during their first tournament. Getting the first one out of the way is a big step.

3. In General, People Should Compete As Early As Possible …

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think you should register for the Pans after your second class. But assuming you know one or two things to do from the major positions, I say go for it.

Personally, I competed very early on — my first tournament was after I had trained for a month. I think that was good for me. I won some matches, I lost some matches, I made some cringe-worthy decisions that I look back on with laughter, and I learned a lot of things not to do. And I was hooked.

This is my first ever gi match. Danger: No Stripe White Belt Trying To Pull Guard

This part is significant: I don’t even notice the hustle and bustle and excitement of tournaments anymore. After that first one, I started competing as often as possible.But I had a huge adrenaline dump after my first match at my first tournament, and wow, was I unprepared for that. It can be overwhelming your first time.

Yes, I have video of that match. No, you can’t see it.

That doesn’t happen to me any more, and I’m glad it happened a month in instead of a year in. Getting your first time out of the way early on means you’ll be all the more ready for the next one.

4. … But If You Don’t Feel Ready, It’s Better To Wait.

I always tell people that if they have any doubts about whether they’re ready for the experience, they should wait to compete. Feeling comfortable is important! This is what you do for fun, so you should enjoy it. Being unsure if you’re ready isn’t fun.

Now, there is a balance to be struck here. Everyone gets nervous, and it’s easy to find an excuse. How many people tell you they’re going to start training “as soon as they get in shape,” and then never get in “good enough” shape?

Part of the value of competition is challenging yourself to get out of that comfort zone. It’s hugely empowering to feel overwhelming nerves, to not be sure you should even be doing something, and then come out the other side.

Here’s how I resolve the balance. Anything that keeps people training is a good thing, in my view. If a competition risks robbing someone of the joy of training, that’s too early. So if you feel like you can handle losing, and it won’t discourage you, I say go for it.

As long as you enjoy yourself, you’ve won, even if you’ve lost every match.

5. Competition Gives You The Individual And Team Experience

You step out on the mat alone. No one is going to take that guy down for you, pass his guard, or choke him for you.

But you’re not alone. You didn’t train alone. You aren’t at the tournament alone. Your coach can’t armbar your opponent, but he or she can tell you where to move your leg so that you can do it yourself. And your team, if it’s anything like mine, will scream their heads off for you. Or, when your muscles are spasming right before the semis of absolute, they might even massage your forearms for you.

You can use this picture to guilt your teammates into massaging your forearms. You have my permission.

Why do I mention this? Because I believe jiu-jitsu competitions give you the best of both worlds. You get both the individual competition experience and the team experience. If you stink up the joint, like I did at the Pans in 2012, you still get to root for your friends and be thrilled when they medal.

If you do well, all the better. You stepped on the mat by yourself and did something most people will never do. Then you stepped off the mat and got mobbed with support by the people you train, sweat and occasionally bleed with.

Your team might not do this, exactly. But still.

It’s a special experience. And you can have it! So set a goal for when you’re going to compete, train hard for it, and remember: no matter what happens, you’ll have won by the end of the day.

December 12, 2013

A Few Great Solo BJJ Drills

Twice a week, I do 6 a.m. drilling. Most days we have between two and four people, but sometimes it’s just me and the cold gym.

We’ve all been there: you show up to open mat, put a gi on, get stretched out … and there’s no one to keep you company but the crickets. Or maybe you’re traveling and jonesing to train, but you can’t find a gym in the area. Or hey, maybe you’re just feeling antisocial.

Whatever the circumstances, sometimes you want to improve your jiu-jitsu but can’t find another grappler around to work with. You don’t want to waste that free time, do you? Of course you don’t, especially if you got up at 5:30 just to carve out a training session.

Some people collect baseball cards. Others collect autographs. I collect good drills, and I’ve been lucky enough to pick up some great solo training tips from terrific black belts. Here are some solo grappling drills to do on your own. These have been my salvation more than once when I’m by myself at 6 a.m.

Breakfall to Stand in Base Flow Drill: This drill combines two of the most fundamental Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu techniques. First, from a standing position, do a back breakfall. Then, come up to one side, with one foot posted in front of you and the opposite-side hand posted behind you. Rotate your hips toward the mat and stand up in a nice base.

Check out how to properly stand up in base here, just 12 seconds in:

Since you’re back to a standing position, you might as well breakfall again and stand up in base on the opposite side, posting your other hand and other foot. This is a nice drill to warm up with, since you can get a good flow going, and it works two critical fundamental movements.

Hip Extension to Combat Base Drill: Roy Marsh, head instructor at Sandhills BJJ and a black belt under Royce Gracie, showed me this one. From your back, roll up onto your shoulder and extend your hips in the air. One leg should be straight and the other leg bent in front of you. From there, roll up to a combat base position (one knee up, one leg folded, elbows in tight). Roll back and repeat on the other side.

Be sure to step a fair distance with your extended leg. This drill can double as a good stretch, too: once you’ve come up to the combat base position you can play around with that.

Bridge to Turtle Drill: From your back with your feet in tight, bridge over one shoulder. As you thread our bottom leg back under to come to the turtle, sweep the mat with your mat-side hand to simulate clearing the hooks from someone trying to attack your back. Finish in a tight turtle position.

You can either sit to your back or roll over your shoulder to return to the original position. Then bridge to the other side. Again, this can be a nice flow.

Leg Circles From the Guard: Some people call this drill “the eggbeater.” You see a lot of guys doing this one to warm up for tournaments, and with good reason: it’s a core movement in the open guard. From your back, you rotate your legs in a circular motion like a windmill or an eggbeater. You can do this in each direction.

I mention it mainly to add one detail: a lot people do this drill with their back flat on the mat instead of raising the hips off the mat and moving from side to side during the leg circles. This is an important part of getting the movement down.

Hip Bump Sweep Drill: For many of us, the hip bump is the first sweep we learn in jiu-jitsu. That’s because it works. Another good solo drill involves putting something in front of you to mimic your opponent – I use a hanging heavy bag, but you can use something as simple as your coiled belt – and practicing the hip bump motion. From the guard position, roll up smoothly onto your shoulder, elbow and then hand, plant your foot and simulate a hip bump. Again, be sure to work both sides.

Start slowly to be certain you hit each step of the technique, and gradually work your way up to a solid pace. Royce Gracie black belt Jake Whitfield showed me this one, and told me that just doing this a few minutes each day would improve my hip bumps – and all the techniques that a good hip bump sets up. He was right.

The hip bump starts at 1:03 in this video:

OTHER RESOURCES

I think it helps to pick up a variety of drills from lots of different sources. That way, you have a menu of options for when you’re by yourself and when you’re with a group or a partner. Having many drills to choose from means you always have something to work and no excuse for getting bored.

To that end, if you’re looking for more, the mighty Jason Scully has a great video of 33 solo drills.

Scully also put together 30 animal-themed movement drills as well.

Next post along these lines: some great partner and group drills.

October 26, 2013

Jiu Jitsu May Be Saving My Life. Really.

Generally, I shy away from hyperbole, so kindly forgive the subject line. It’s a claim I don’t make lightly.

Don’t worry, I promise that the post doesn’t get emo. But it must start with this basic fact: I’ve never known my biological father. This is just fine with me, but means that I lack knowledge about family medical history.

A few months back, a friend of mine in a similar situation decided to sign up for 23 And Me. 23 and Me is a genetic testing service that (in exchange for $99 and a copious amount of your spit) reports on your genetic traits, potential inherited conditions, ancestry and more.

My friend said that her results were fascinating. She also said that she accidentally ordered two of the “spit kits” that they use to collect your DNA, and could use someone to take it off her hands. Sold!

It's a commercial! 23 and Me needs to sponsor me. Hit me up for a gi patch, guys. — It’s a commercial! 23 and Me needs to sponsor me. Hit me up for a gi patch, guys.

Frankly, I was much more interested in the ancestry aspect of the service. Like I said, half of my genealogy is a complete unknown, and due to immigration and a rumored family name change a few generations ago, it’s nigh impossible to find out much of anything further back than a century or so. But genetic markers can tell us a lot about where we come from, and I was excited to see just how Neanderthal I am, among other things (3 percent, in case you were wondering).

As I write this, my ancestry results are still incomplete. I can’t say anything about that. The health results came in today, and my jaw dropped.

Now, I’ve always been a healthy person. It’s extremely rare that I get sick and I’ve been fortunate in my life to avoid most major maladies. It sounds foolish — and it is foolish — but I think I started to take that as a given.

Then I saw this:

Two out of three Jeffs are gonna get heart disease. I'm trying to find something flippant to say and coming up dry. — Two out of three Jeffs are gonna get heart disease. I’m trying to find something flippant to say and coming up dry.

Whoa. I’m 150 percent more likely than the average person to have heart disease. More than 66 percent of guys with my genes will have coronary problems.

Look, coronary heart disease isn’t rare. It’s the leading cause of death in America for men and women alike. But when you see something that says two-thirds of the people with your genotype are going to get it between 45 and 79, well, you’re forced to take notice.

I turn 40 next year. You can see why that might be sobering.

What you might not see, as yet, is what this has to do with jiu-jitsu. Don’t worry, we’re there now.

I started training about three years ago. As I said, I’ve always been on-balance a healthy person. But I also enjoy the occasional beer and the temptation of dessert. I’d never have called myself fat, but when I walked into the gym, I weighed more than I ever had in my life: 167 pounds. I was exercising, but infrequently, doing yoga when I could find the time.

Three months after I started training, I had caught the grappling bug. I started training five times a week, more if I could. I have never been focused on weight in and of itself, since that’s not a good metric of health, but the pounds started to melt off. Fast.

X-rays of my body reveal changes in my mind's focus ... — X-rays of my body reveal changes in my mind’s focus …

There was more. My conditioning was improving rapidly, but I felt a ceiling there. I noticed that there were days when I felt better than other days, and those days strongly correlated with how well I ate, hydrated and otherwise took care of myself.

I started researching nutrition. Nobody wants to feel like garbage and perform like garbage during training, so I stopped putting garbage in my body. Plus, if I was going to compete — and I decided early on that I wanted to compete — I needed to get a handle on this aspect of preparation.

Soon I was eating several small meals a day composed mostly of fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, and grilled fish. I started drinking water constantly — a gallon a day on a standard day, more if a tournament was coming up.

I hadn’t been a real drinker in many years, and I found myself consuming alcohol very infrequently. Instead, I was drinking Acai and taking protein shakes, and supplementing those beverages with vitamins.

... and nutritional habits. — … and nutritional habits.

I felt great. Gradually, all the exercise in my life became jiu-jitsu training, and I worked into a cycle of training six or seven times a week, eating well, hydrating and getting lots of rest.

I wasn’t trying to “diet” — just to eat healthy. Still, I found myself naturally between 145 and 149 pounds. I knew that my new habits were healthier than my old habits, but that’s not why I made the changes: I just wanted to get better at jiu-jitsu.

This matters to the topic at hand because genes are only part of the story — 39-56% of the story, to be precise — in deciding someone will get heart disease. Your lifestyle matters a great deal, too!

Flash forward to yesterday morning. I get the news about my elevated heart disease risk. Shocked, I start researching what I could do to keep myself healthy. That included taking this questionnaire from the Washington University School of Medicine about lifestyle and heart disease.

Let me hit you with some samples of the questions they ask.

* Do you eat fish 2 or more times per week?

* Do you eat 5 or more servings of fruit and vegetables per day?

* Do you eat 3 or more servings of whole grains per day?

* Do you usually eat 3 servings of nuts per week?

* How many servings of alcohol do you have on a typical day?

* Do you take a multivitamin or a B complex supplement on most days?

* Do you walk (or do other moderate activity) for at least 30 minutes on most days, or at least 3 hours per week?

The point, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed: I’d changed all of these things for the better, without thinking about it, just by virtue of training jiu-jitsu. When I finished the survey, it came out like this:

There are lots of things in your life that are out of your control. You can’t change your genes. You can’t change who your family is.

Beyond that, it’s difficult to make fundamental, overarching changes on a number of issues all at once. If you tell someone they have to change their whole diet, and start exercising, and take vitamins, and pay attention to these other matters too … well, that can get overwhelming. And being overwhelmed can lead to paralysis of action. Ever had so many projects due you just feel daunted and take a nap? Same concept.

It’s better to find that one lifestyle change that fosters change in all the other stuff. I train because I love it, not because I’m trying to exercise. But training is exercise. And because I love to train, I drink lots of water instead of lots of booze, eat healthy snacks instead of donuts, and — all since I don’t want to feel like death when I’m doing what I love.

Of course, it’s still possible that heart disease is how I will go. I’m at peace with that, and I’d still make the same decisions about diet and exercise even if I knew they wouldn’t make a difference in my health outcome.

I’ve found one component of my life that inspires me to make better choices in many other aspects of my life. For me, that’s jiu-jitsu. Maybe it is for you, too.

October 25, 2013

Be Prepared. Period.

Jake Whitfield, the black belt who heads Triangle Jiu-Jitsu Goldsboro, has an important new article out on the website. You should go read the whole thing, then come on back. I’ll wait.

… OK, this is the Internet, so no one reads anything in its entirety. You should, but if you choose not to, let me hit you with a quick summary: preparation is key to success, whether you’re talking about a jiu-jitsu class, a jiu-jitsu tournament, an MMA fight, or life.

One of the most overlooked areas of preparation is the simple preparation for each day of training. Everyone has had classes where they felt like they were on top of the world. Every sweep works perfectly and it seems like your training partner’s guard doesn’t even exist. Everyone has also had classes where it seems like everything you do is wrong. Often the difference between the two is the preparation you put in before class. Did you drink enough water throughout the day to give you sufficient hydration to make it through class? Or did you just chug a bottle of water in the car immediately beforehand? Or even worse, did you forget to drink water altogether before class? Did you eat healthy meals throughout the day and give your body time to properly digest your last meal before training? Did you provide yourself with adequate time to get to class on time without being rushed? Did you remember everything you needed for class? Did you properly warm up before class or did you rush in during the warm up drills, throw your gi on, and run out onto the mat while still tying your belt just in time to catch the first technique being taught? Every single one of these things has an impact every single time that you train.

This is exactly right. I’d like to add two things (a principle and a story) from my own experience.

First, these guidelines only increase in importance as we age. I’ll turn 40 next year. I’ve always been a prompt person: if I’m not someplace 15 minutes early, I feel like I’m late. But since immersing myself in jiu-jitsu I’ve tried to be as early as I can. This is partially because of something Jake talks about in the excerpt about: it’s important to warm up correctly to avoid injury, and getting some movements going early helps you have a productive, gradual warmup. This is more important for my body than it might be for a 19-year-old who is made of rubber (although it’s important for him/her, too!).

I also love being around to talk with the instructor and the other students before class. You never know when you’re going to hear a detail that you missed before, or something that helps you understand a position in a new way — or just some great stories from the old days. Like any practice, the more time you spend observing and preparing, the more likely you are to learn.

Preparation includes strategy formation of all types.

The story I’d like to tell involves me learning a lesson the hard way. These days it’s fairly rare when I drink more than the occasional beer. But when I first got my blue belt, my instructor started having me roll with all the new people. I think this is half because he knows I’m capable of being calm and gentle with the first-timers, but also that I’m capable of showing that jiu-jitsu works — and if a huge, beastly athletic dude gets dominated by a tiny, nerdy 39-year-old, they are usually forced to conclude that there is something to the art.

On this particular night before class, I choose to have three beers. Because my tolerance is low, this results in some dehydration and a mild hangover. Hey, that’s the price you pay. One of the benefits of jiu-jitsu training is that it’s a positive feedback loop: you train a lot and you drink less, because you want to be prepared for training. But sometimes you want to have a beer, and one turns into three.

Of course, I’m not going to skip class over it. Of course, this is the day that a huge former college wrestler comes in. Of course, I have too much pride to tell my instructor “um, Seth, I got a little awash in liquid amusement last night.” Of course, I’ve got to roll with the guy during the night’s first spar.

Usually, my philosophy in rolling with brand new people is not to hunt for submissions at all, but merely to take what is given when they make fundamental errors. That way, you can show them both the philosophy and effectiveness of jiu-jitsu (besides, every new person makes fundamental errors). Now that I’ve been training for a few years I also have a better sense for who is going to approach the roll in an open-minded, learning way and who is going to try to kill you.

This guy was clearly in the “going to try to kill you” camp.

He jumps onto me, and I collar choke him in about 5 seconds. He desperately does not want to tap, but does so after his face turns purple and he nearly passes out. Usually, this is enough to give even the most kill-faced person some pause. But this never seems to happen when you’re hung over. He just keeps coming. And about halfway through the roll, I really start feeling tired.

Now, at no point during the round was I in any trouble. He was throwing me around, though, and this is normally the type of behavior that I would correct as gently as possible with certain tactics. But I wasn’t at my best, and I didn’t have the control I needed to have, and hence couldn’t employ those tactics.

This made the round unpleasant for me. Having a college wrestler on top of you when you’re hung over is not an experience I recommend. But that’s not the worst part. I just wasn’t apply to apply techniques in the way I had become accustomed. At one point I just let an armbar go because I was afraid he flat-out wouldn’t tap until I broke his arm. Without the precision to apply the technique properly, I was forced to either let go or risk injuring a new person. This isn’t a choice I should have been forced into, but my lack of preparation made it so.

That happened well over a year ago, and it’s still one of my most vivid memories of jiu-jitsu — and one of the blessedly few moments I’m really embarrassed of. I didn’t prepare myself properly, because it was just another night of class. Because I didn’t prepare myself properly, I wasn’t able to represent myself of the art in the way that I would have liked to. I also am a firm believer that the way you represent yourself reflects on your teammates and instructor, so I’m always disappointed in myself when I don’t do things the right way.

I take pride in being able to show people both the benefits of jiu-jitsu and my love for it. the chance to roll with a new person is major opportunity to make that happen, and it’s one I don’t want to miss again.

It’s important to be prepared for many reasons. One is that you never know when a moment like that is going to happen, and you want to be able to put your best self out there when the occasion demands it.

September 30, 2013

Thank The Monsters

I wanted to quit. I’m not going to lie about it.

It was last summer, and the teeth of the North Carolina heat had sunk deeply into our training space. The humidity made it tough to get air into your body under normal circumstances, and these weren’t normal circumstances. A black belt — my instructor’s instructor — was mounted on top of me at the end of a session.

The pressure was suffocating. I couldn’t get space. Sweat had crept into every fiber of my heavy gi, and I was starting to get that dreaded claustrophobic feeling where all you want to do is something, anything that will get him off of you. You know you need to hide your arms and protect your collars, but your lower brain functions are screaming at you to buck wildly and push at his chest. Worse, in the back of your mind there’s always that little voice reminding you that you can tap, even though tapping to pressure isn’t allowed.

I managed to shut these voices up until the round ended. I don’t know how long it took. My only answer to that question is “too long.”

Jiu-jitsu is fun. This was misery. But I thanked him for it afterward, and I thank him for it now.

Why? Because training hard feels bad, but is good for you.

My instructor, mounted on me, in the longest minute of my BJJ life. I don’t have a picture from the incident in the first section, thankfully.

This comes to mind because of my last match in the absolute division at the Pans last week. I lost in semifinals to the eventual silver medalist, a very tough guy with a suffocating top game. He took me down straight into half guard. I found myself in a deep crossface and facing considerable downward pressure from a strong guy with good technique. He had my head turned the wrong way, making it difficult for me to bridge, and used the position to set up a tight Darce choke.

Why do I mention this? At no point did the thought of giving up cross my mind. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting back to a decent guard position where I could defend myself and, from there, get some attacks going.

That’s not because I wasn’t suffering: it was because I was used to suffering. Because I had trained for it. Powerful and skilled as my opponent was, he wasn’t a black belt coming after me at the end of a long, hard training day.

Don't get me wrong, this is still very uncomfortable. — Don’t get me wrong, I was still very uncomfortable at several junctures during this match.

I still lost the match by points, but I survived and escaped the position. I didn’t get submitted: I recovered guard and got some attacks going. And I have no doubt that my performance was better than it would have been had I not experienced that type of hard training I just described. Training intensely prepares you for these terrible spots.

When I say “training hard,” I don’t just mean “going all-out, until exhaustion” or even “putting yourself in awful positions.” I mean challenging yourself by training with people who are appreciably better than you. Jake Whitfield, the black belt I wrote about above, can submit me more or less whenever he wants and however he wants. When he was smashing me under mount, he was teaching me to endure a terrible spot. That’s a vital lesson.

This not as fun as it looks. But I'm glad I did it. — Stuff like this is not as fun as it looks. But I’m glad I did it.

There are other lessons to be learned, though, from training with high-level guys. I just finished the Pans camp at BJJ Conquest, where I was fortunate to train with some fantastic black belts. No one there was trying to smash me in the traditional sense: guys like Kail Bosque or Super Dave Zennario don’t have to. They were able to utterly dismantle me using pure technique with minimal effort. Just getting the chance to observe jiu-jitsu players on the level of Samir Chantre, Quiexinho and Vicente Junior helped me learn. Having them effortlessly pass my guard or sweep me — essentially drilling positions on me while I was rolling — was inspiring.

These scenarios presented a different type of challenge than the situation I described earlier. Instead of just trying to survive a spot, I had to try to figure out how these guys were breaking me down so easily, and how I needed to evolve to improve. That forces you to improve your technical understanding. Whenever an upper belt asks me to roll, in my view they’re doing me a huge favor — especially a black belt. Yes, I’m going to get owned. No, I can’t prevent that. Yes, it helps me grow.

I was one of least skilled people at the camp, which helped me learn a lot.

The camp was a special opportunity, of course. But there are opportunities to train hard every day, though, wherever you are. Training with people of different skill sets and body types, people who give you problems in different spots for different reasons, can present its own challenges. There are several white belts who were good wrestlers that can give me problems when they get on top: if I don’t let them get on top, how can I prepare for competitions where I will face guys with similar skills?

I just want to say one more thing. It’s easy to say this and hard to do it. It sucks to get beaten up. It can be demoralizing to “lose” constantly, even in training. That’s one reason it’s so important to control your ego and gain perspective.

The guy that regularly crushes other white belts easily in training probably feels great at the end of the night, like he could take on the world. The guy who just got eviscerated over and over and saw his partners smiling and not sweating may not even feel like he deserves the belt he’s wearing in the moment.

But who is learning more? If this pattern of training is repeated, who will be better in the long run?

Back to the story I started this with: after the round ended, I was exhausted and relieved. Jake turned to me and said this: “The fact that you didn’t freak out down there is a credit to the monsters that you train with.”

That’s the fundamental truth of it. Our teammates and training partners help us succeed, even if — especially if — they are dominating us. It feels great to win all the time, to be the best guy in the room with regularity. It’s just harder to improve if that’s all you do.

Train with monsters. Thank those monsters. Even when they’re compressing your chest, they might just be the best friends you’ll have in jiu-jitsu.

September 25, 2013

Camp is For Cool Kids

How often do you get the chance to be on the mat with seven or eight black belts, many of whom have won the worlds, Pans, Brazilian nationals — or all of the above? For me, the answer is “never.”

When Vicente Junior announced some of the people who would be training at his camp for Pans at BJJ Conquest, I knew I had to do it. It meant a round-trip nine hour drive, but I figured it would be worth it, and it has been. We train three times a day, and each time we get instruction from the likes of Samir Chantre, Quiexinho, Caio Terra, and of course Vicente himself.

I’m competing at the Pans this weekend, and this seemed like a fantastic way to prepare: by seeing how some of the best guys in the world prepare, and learning as much as I could from them.

Training session, take notes, training session, take notes, training session, take notes, sleep, repeat.

Beyond that, though, it’s just been a great life experience. I’m not going to say too much about the specifics of the training sessions here. We’re doing a lot of drilling, a lot of rolling, and a lot of positional work. The most valuable thing for me, though, has been soaking up the way these top-level guys approach their own training. As Yogi Berra once said, you can observe a lot just by watching.

As an older guy, I have to admit I was worried about the toll that training three or four times a day would take on my body prior to a big tournament. But I’ve learned a lot, both about techniques and about how to approach training in way that challenges you and keeps you fresh.

It’s also been a humbling experience. It’s an amazing privilege to roll with guys on this level, and it’ll also show you exactly where you’re at on the food chain. Feel good about your top game? Have fun trying to stay on top. Feel good about your guard? They’ll pass it over and over, effortlessly, in multiple ways.

I'm putting out an APB for my guard. It doesn't exist up here. — I’m putting out an APB for my guard. It doesn’t exist up here.

In the strictest sense, this is a vacation for me. I took a week off of work to do it. It’s also a vacation in a broader sense: I walk around the mat and think that there’s no place I’d rather be. However I do in the tournament, I’ve spent most of each day on the mat. I’ve learned a ton from some brilliant jiu-jitsu minds. And isn’t that really what it’s all about?

December 17, 2012

What does belt rank mean?

To tell you how I feel about belt rank progression, I have to tell you about the one tattoo I’ve ever seriously considered getting. I also have to tell you something about Greek language.

If you’re still with me, oh how I love you. I promise it’ll be quick and painless.

We get our English word synecdoche from a Greek word, συνεκδοχή, that means “simultaneous understanding.” The word is used as a figure of speech or a metaphor.

You know how sometimes people say “50 head” meaning “a herd of 50 cattle,” or “three hands” meaning “three sailors”? Those are examples. A synecdoche is where the thing-in-itself (like a sailor) has the same meaning as something that represents that thing (like a hand). We understand that those two meanings exist simultaneously.

After the Mundials this past year, I started think about getting a tattoo of the Greek letters. The ink would be a reminder that, in life, we should consider both the thing-in-itself and what the thing represents. Also, Greek letters look pretty boss. That was a secondary consideration.

Why did the Mundials get me thinking about this? Because a jiu-jitsu belt is a synecdoche.

Before I got promoted, I spent a lot of time thinking about my next belt. It’ll be so rewarding, I thought, to be able to tie that around my waist every class.

But at the end of the day, it’s a piece of colored cloth. There’s that famous Royce Gracie quote that a belt only covers two inches of your ass, and the rest of it you have to cover on your own. It’s true.

As hard as we work for those promotions, a belt is just a thing, an object. It’s what that object represents that matters.

Discipline. Commitment. Loyalty. The respect you’ve earned from people that you respect (your instructors, your training partners). It might sound corny, but that’s what I think about when I think about promotions: a shared journey that, if done the right way, has spectacular rewards. The new addition to your wardrobe is lovely, but is it really anything compared to what the belt actually represents?

People do think about and talk about belt rank. It’s natural. When jiu-jitsu is a big part of your life, and BJJ people are a significant portion of your social circle, it’s only normal that you would talk about progression with your friends. And I do think that belts serve a purpose: they can be markers along the way of a long, long journey. My instructor is fond of pointing out that there are only five belts in BJJ, and everyone starts with one of them: promotions don’t happen often.

Sometimes, I hear folks get frustrated because they didn’t get a stripe from their instructor, or were passed over for promotion during the head of their school’s last visit. We all know people who have gotten frustrated about matters like these. Frankly, most of us have been those people at one time or another.

If you want a belt that’s a rank up from where you are, I’m sure you can find someone to give it to you. But what would that mean? You’d have the thing itself. You wouldn’t have what it represents. It wouldn’t be a synecdoche.

Training the right way — and doing so with patience and humility — allows you to have both the thing-in-itself and what the thing represents. I don’t want to cheat myself out of having both, and neither, I suspect, do you.

December 17, 2012

Letting Ego Go

When I did debate in high school, a bunch of us went to watch our best debater — a senior — compete in a final round. We were sophomores, and we watched our best guy deliver a terrific speech to win top honors. Afterward, still suffused with the glow of sweet victory, I told a teammate: “You know, I want to be that good someday.”

This particular teammate never thought much of me, so that may be why she gave me a look of scorn. It may also be that such a declaration came off as arrogant, or implausible, or some combination of all of these. Whatever it was, it was clear that she didn’t think my goal was happening, and she wanted me to know it.

Fine, I thought inside. Out loud, I said: “No, I changed my mind. I want to be better. And I’m going to be.”

***

I admit it: I’m a competitive person. I will further admit that this type of competitiveness is rooted in ego, and that this is not always my most charming trait. At 38, I certainly hope that I’m more mature about expressing these feelings than I was as a sophomore in high school. But that base impulse — You think I can’t do that? Well, we’ll you’re wrong, and I’ll prove it — remains the same.

Ego can be a mixed blessing at best — in life and in jiu-jitsu training. If your instructor is anything like mine, he or she has probably has probably told you over and over that ego is your enemy.

There are good reasons for this. Especially with something like Brazilian jiu-jitsu, where improvement is such a long-term process, conquering your ego is something you simply have to do. Humility is worth cultivating for its own sake. It also has instrumental value: being humble also allows you to be open to what your instructors — and training partners — have to teach you, in word and deed. There are lot of reasons for this, but my favorite is this: if you don’t believe you’re making mistakes, you can’t learn.

Humility is also a recipe for being much happier in life. I fundamentally believe this. As beneficial as competition can be for us, physically and mentally, an all-consuming focus on it isn’t charming. It can also undermine your long-term progress. I’ve seen a lot of people with impressive physical attributes start to rely on their strength or speed to win matches and perform well in rolls, since that’s easier at first than learning technique.

Let me make an uncomfortable admission, though. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a tiny kernel of ego still continues to drive my training. I like getting medals. I don’t like big, strong, new guys coming into the gym and calling me out, assuming they can beat on the little old guy. I like it when they get a nasty surprise.

This isn’t a part of my personality I’m particularly happy with, but I can acknowledge that it will always be a part of me. And contrary to what the great Annie Savoy said, the world can be a better place with a little self-awareness. Knowing our own tendencies can be the best way to moderate them.

Ultimately, I think that moderation is the lesson here: you don’t want to let your ego run you, but you don’t want to completely abandon it, either. You can’t run an engine on a spark alone, but sometimes you need a spark to get started.

***

Since I’m sure everyone is anxious to know how my debate career turned out, I’ll return that to close this out. (Spoiler alert: it’s actually a pretty good parable for what I’m trying to say in the post.)

Debaters work really hard. I worked as hard as two of them. I kind of had a chip on my shoulder anyway, but I used doubters — real and imagined — to motivate me. Tournaments were most every weekend, and I lived for them.

The work paid off, such as it was: for a few years I was pretty hard to beat at debate. Then, as suddenly as I started obsessing over winning debates, I found myself burning out. I was exhausted all the time and had stopped enjoying something that had been the center of my life.

I had a lot of success, and I had a lot of fun, but I don’t think I had as much of either in the long run as I might have. Tough to admit, but true.

We’re all capable of making mistakes. One of my goals in training jiu-jitsu is to fix the mistakes in approach I made during debate. Ego is a tough opponent, but it can be defeated, too, and the more I defeat it, the happier I am.

Category: Training Diary