I've been rolling light lately.
I know. Everyone says they roll light, but I've found the real secret is to say I want to go easy and then follow through.
I'm having fun, avoiding injury, and remembering how to move. I'm not keeping score, but I've been swept and submitted by several collective tons of 120 pound men and women. If light white belts can't find my back, I sometimes show it to them. I already know I can squish them for six minutes, and I need to re-tune my defense anyway.
The huge upside of not playing for my ego is that I'm very relaxed on the mat. I've turned my strength way down, and I find that formerly low percentage moves start flowing out of my body.
I'm not keeping score, but in the last week I've hit ten or so Homer Simpson sweeps from deep half guard.
Back when I was stronger and more aggressive, I could pull the Homer Simpson off once a month or so.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Unemployment
Since I've been back in jiu-jitsu, I try to take a long lunch once a week and go to the noon fundamentals class at Dark Horse. Usually I go on Wednesday, but this week I went on Tuesday.
For whatever reason, there were mostly blue belts on the mat, and the white belts were advanced. I'm not sure if Tuesday is supposed to be an intermediate class, or if Professor Matt Jubera decided to make it an intermediate class based on the students in attendance. As we lined up to start class, he said something like, "I guess when you get a blue belt you're unemployed, and you have nothing to do but go to noon class."
Many people think I never laugh, and it's true I don't find a lot of things funny, but for reasons I can't explain, I found Professor's comment hilarious; I couldn't stop laughing during the warm up. One of my jiu-jitsu idiosyncrasies is that if I'm on the mat, I have a mouth guard in even if I'm just warming up for what I think is a fundamentals class. And the problem with laughing and warming up and having a mouth guard in is that you get unreal saliva production. So I'm standing up in base trying not to spray the mat with spit and using my arm that's supposed to be covering my head to cover my mouth so that no one has to see me laughing and ask why which I still can't explain.
Intermediate class was devoted to half guard, and in particular we looked at the Escrima pass from top. We spent 15 or so minutes drilling half guard at the end of class.
I've been asked what it's like to return to BJJ after such a long lay off. To me, it seems like this: a blue belt always has one answer to any grappling problem, and I find that's exactly all I have. Things that I remember working on have deserted me, but my body still knows my go-to move for any position.
On top of half guard, my go to move is what I think we used to call the Gordo pass; I turn my hips into the bottom player, bring my upper body across his pinning his outside arm to his hip and picking up a kimura if it's open. Then with or without the kimura, I'll try to bring my free knee into his hip flexors and pull out my trapped leg to pass to side control.
During drilling the go-to move was working, but I really wanted to try out what I had just learned and get the Escrima pass to work. During the last three minutes of class, I got a strong underhook, smashed the bottom player, and finished the Escrima pass.
I felt great, not because I passed half guard, but because I feel I now have two answers to top half.
More importantly, I found that I had been unemployed for an hour, and I wasn't worried about having my claim for benefits denied.
I was still laughing when I rejoined the work force.
For whatever reason, there were mostly blue belts on the mat, and the white belts were advanced. I'm not sure if Tuesday is supposed to be an intermediate class, or if Professor Matt Jubera decided to make it an intermediate class based on the students in attendance. As we lined up to start class, he said something like, "I guess when you get a blue belt you're unemployed, and you have nothing to do but go to noon class."
Many people think I never laugh, and it's true I don't find a lot of things funny, but for reasons I can't explain, I found Professor's comment hilarious; I couldn't stop laughing during the warm up. One of my jiu-jitsu idiosyncrasies is that if I'm on the mat, I have a mouth guard in even if I'm just warming up for what I think is a fundamentals class. And the problem with laughing and warming up and having a mouth guard in is that you get unreal saliva production. So I'm standing up in base trying not to spray the mat with spit and using my arm that's supposed to be covering my head to cover my mouth so that no one has to see me laughing and ask why which I still can't explain.
Intermediate class was devoted to half guard, and in particular we looked at the Escrima pass from top. We spent 15 or so minutes drilling half guard at the end of class.
I've been asked what it's like to return to BJJ after such a long lay off. To me, it seems like this: a blue belt always has one answer to any grappling problem, and I find that's exactly all I have. Things that I remember working on have deserted me, but my body still knows my go-to move for any position.
On top of half guard, my go to move is what I think we used to call the Gordo pass; I turn my hips into the bottom player, bring my upper body across his pinning his outside arm to his hip and picking up a kimura if it's open. Then with or without the kimura, I'll try to bring my free knee into his hip flexors and pull out my trapped leg to pass to side control.
During drilling the go-to move was working, but I really wanted to try out what I had just learned and get the Escrima pass to work. During the last three minutes of class, I got a strong underhook, smashed the bottom player, and finished the Escrima pass.
I felt great, not because I passed half guard, but because I feel I now have two answers to top half.
More importantly, I found that I had been unemployed for an hour, and I wasn't worried about having my claim for benefits denied.
I was still laughing when I rejoined the work force.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Second Part First
Properly, I should start this blog with the back story of how I got into Brazilian jiu-jitsu, how I got out, and why I got back in. But though technically this blog has been around a few weeks now, I was not getting it done.
So here's what I think as I look at dirty gis strewn over every closet and bedroom door I have. Every time I have to wash gis before showing myself at Dark Horse Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu again, I'll write a blog whether or not I want to. I won't worry about how good or bad it is, or if it breaks whatever logical flow I may be capable of. After all, it's about progress.
And I have found that I have an anti-talent for writing about jiu-jitsu. Jiu-jitsu is about motion while words are flat and static.
Yes, some people like my writing about the barbell, but the barbell doesn't fight back. On a bad day, the barbell travels very close to the path I want it to, while on even a good day at BJJ, the opponent travels some path entirely in opposition to what I wanted.
Today, though, I just happen to have the right metaphor. I got to be the coyote who runs off the cliff and doesn't fall until he remembers that gravity can be forgotten, but it never goes away. I had just been launched off a shoulder throw, and I was hanging perfectly peacefully in the air until I remembered that I had to fall, and that this time it was going to hurt.
It's not, of course, that I'm getting older. Rather my youth is receding further away. It's natural, and overall it's a good thing. Here is how receding youth works: the body performs awesomely when it's doing what it wants, but it has lost some resilience, and it gets angrier than it used to when things are done to it.
I do not, anymore, want to take twenty or even five hard falls, but one hard fall still makes a good day. Once again I left Dark Horse taller than I entered it.
So here's what I think as I look at dirty gis strewn over every closet and bedroom door I have. Every time I have to wash gis before showing myself at Dark Horse Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu again, I'll write a blog whether or not I want to. I won't worry about how good or bad it is, or if it breaks whatever logical flow I may be capable of. After all, it's about progress.
And I have found that I have an anti-talent for writing about jiu-jitsu. Jiu-jitsu is about motion while words are flat and static.
Yes, some people like my writing about the barbell, but the barbell doesn't fight back. On a bad day, the barbell travels very close to the path I want it to, while on even a good day at BJJ, the opponent travels some path entirely in opposition to what I wanted.
Today, though, I just happen to have the right metaphor. I got to be the coyote who runs off the cliff and doesn't fall until he remembers that gravity can be forgotten, but it never goes away. I had just been launched off a shoulder throw, and I was hanging perfectly peacefully in the air until I remembered that I had to fall, and that this time it was going to hurt.
It's not, of course, that I'm getting older. Rather my youth is receding further away. It's natural, and overall it's a good thing. Here is how receding youth works: the body performs awesomely when it's doing what it wants, but it has lost some resilience, and it gets angrier than it used to when things are done to it.
I do not, anymore, want to take twenty or even five hard falls, but one hard fall still makes a good day. Once again I left Dark Horse taller than I entered it.
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