Jiu Jitsu Diaries 02

Before training

It's been a few jiu jitsu trainings, a week of sickness, and a week of recovery since my last entry. Before my unwanted leave, I began to feel the rhythm and joy of grappling. It felt like things made sense and clicked, and I felt more confident in defending and attacking from more positions. Naturally, after this break, I am hesitant to go back on the mats. The roots of comfort grew over me. Jiu jitsu is like cold showers. The idea of doing it sucks if you're unaccustomed to it, but once you get going, it's awesome.

Of course I'll drag myself there, though I am pretty exhausted. At this point, it's hard to tell whether it's genuine exhaustion or laziness. "Am I injured/tired enough to stay at home, or am I giving in to weakness?"

Because of the break, I'm worried I've forgotten all the techniques we drilled the weeks before. Especially the guard passes, which are my weakness, among many other. Xaxa.

So to make it easier for myself, I'll try to remember what we worked on and prime my brain for training a bit.

1. over under
2. leg drag
3. toreando
4. outside passing with arm and neck / arm and arm - knee on belly
5. outside passing with C grip on opposite foot and upper body control -> head to chest

We also worked on:

Deep half - whatever the fuck it is - grab leg between legs and turn under his legs move

Overhook half guard defense -> attack sequence - triangle, armbar

Triangles from half guard

Triangles from closed guard

Attacking from bottom:

Gripping two hands on one arm in seated position, pulling into closed guard, dummy sweep, tripod sweep, Single leg X -> leg entry, wrestle up - takedown (basically B team bottom game)

Concepts:

Using stiff arm as a guard retention mechanic like all the time

Getting an angle to set up a guard pass can work wonders

Grips boy, get them grips.

After training

I frown, my brows blocking the snow from falling in my eyes as I walk towards the fight club. The bridge looms over train tracks, on which carts stand filled brim with wood. Miles and miles of wood. The arctic sky has this odd hue of dark blue, different than in the more southern parts of Europe, somewhat thicker, with a slight gradient, for the clouds mingle with the color of the dark blue, appearing as if it gradually turned to gray.

I walk with my heavy bag and ponder my crippling anxiety. Why? Where is it coming from? Guess it's the fighting; no, I'm fine with that. Perhaps the people; what about them? What will they think when they see me? Do I look devastated? Can they see my anxiety? Am I good enough? Do I deserve their acceptance?

I sigh. Part of me wishes I would have grown past that already. Too many times do I have to remind myself that there is no changing who I am, and that, perhaps, I am pretty okay the way I am.

Not long ago, I was unsure whether I could train again at all. My shoulder hanging by a thread, literally. With a heavy heart I considered a life outside of jiu-jitsu, and over time felt okay with that too. But now that I am back, just training is not good enough, at least for some part of me.

Looking further back, it makes sense. My father, the self-proclaimed greatest fighter to have ever lived, spared some of his attention and affection, but only to those that had a fighter in them. Perhaps those, that lifted heavy weights. So it was natural that I came up with street fight stories as a kid, to win his liking.

It is perhaps that too, why I ended up lifting weights and fighting for most of my free time. "Tsk," I click my tongue. I dislike the fact I have to even consider this, and that it mixes with my genuine passion. When I am away from the gym, I miss it. When I am in it, I thrive. I love training, and I love fighting, but I slip into these patterns of needing praise. Of wanting attention, perhaps a pat on the back and a "Good work, son."

And that's when I try to pretend I am someone else, that I am better than I really am. That masquerade, that pretence, is too heavy a burden to bear. "Do I look like someone who's got it together?" No I fucking don't, because I don't.

"Bah" I think. Purify me. Rid me of this weight. I am nobody, and it will remain so. That's fine, really.

At the thought of nobody, my anxiety slowly dissipates. "Yeah, that's more like it," I tell myself. "You don't need the attention or praise of anyone in there. You've been by yourself up until now, and you've done just fine. You don't need to be great at this. If you keep showing up, perhaps you'll be a bit less of a pushover, maybe you won't end up like your abusive father, and perhaps instead of walking on tiptoes, like the coward that you can be sometimes, one day you will be able to remain calm and content in your own presence. Perhaps others, your family and friends, will too."

"That'd be a pretty good deal, wouldn't it?"

"Mhm."

My shoulders loosen up, my chest softens, and my steps are somewhat lighter. I wonder if everyone in there goes through monologues like this, or if it's just me overthinking the shit out of it.

We worked on half-guard passing. Some sort of hip thrust, no idea what the name would be for it. Didn't work too well for me.

In the Gi session we worked on half-guard as well. A sweep with an S hook on the hip, a lapel push and arm pull between legs. Sort of like a butterfly sweep really.

From there we went into an armbar entry, by getting an underhook and pulling the arm towards my neck, pushing my knees into my opponents neck and side. I have no idea what the name for that would be either. I liked the arm bar though, also the transitions which followed.