I started training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) in March, 2023. And as of this week, I have taken 300 classes, attended numerous "open mat" sparring sessions, and lost horribly in one tournament. It therefore seemed appropriate to post some reflections on this amazing experience...
As Theo Von once quipped, he mistakenly thought BJJ was an exotic breed of dog. So for the uninitiated, allow me to provide some context. BJJ is considered part of the grappling family of the martial arts. Generally speaking, non-weaponized martial arts can be divided into either striking or grappling forms. Striking involves injuring or disabling your opponent by hitting and kicking - think of boxing, kick-boxing, Karate, Tae Kwon Do, or Muay Thai. They all have different techniques and rule sets, but they are all common in their strategy of striking the opponent. Grappling, on the other hand, has to do with what we might think of as wrestling - instead of striking your opponent, you perform various holds that restrain them and threaten potential injury. This is done by blood chokes that cut circulation to the brain, joint locks that could break limbs, or exerting pressure that would lead to suffocation.
To illustrate the contrast, think of the movie, Karate Kid, where the story climaxes with the hero standing in a bird-like position to kick the bad guy in the face and knock him out. BJJ is the opposite of that because the first goal is to take the fight to the ground. John Danaher, a famous BJJ guru, has conjectured that the sport with the most kinetic energy is the Olympic Javelin throw - where the thrower uses the ground to bound forward and twist to create massive energy and momentum for the throwing arm. BJJ understands this transfer of kinetic energy concept and seeks to rob the opponent of that potential striking energy to keep the fight safer for both people. It is one thing to get very close to the opponent and hold them in a dominant position that could break their arm, and quite another to be hit or kicked at a striking distance. In BJJ, a person can yelp out or physically "tap out" in pain and "submit" rather than taking a blow to the face or body that can't be taken back. Some have even referred to BJJ as the "gentle art!" (Chuckle).
BJJ is also unique in the grappling arts because the fight does not stop when an opponent is pinned on their back. In traditional wrestling and judo, when an opponent's back makes contact or is pinned to the ground, the fight is over. And that is understandable because being dominated with your back on the ground is a bad place to be. But BJJ does not recognize back-pins as an ending, but rather as another unique place to either submit or fight-up from. BJJ practitioners are notoriously worried when collegiate wrestlers enter the dojo because they are so good at take-downs from standing position and then maintaining top position. But traditional wrestlers often find themselves lost when the match and attacks continue even though a back may have been pinned to the mat.
Hopefully that bit of context helps put things in perspective. But before I offer some reflections, I need to offer a brief disclaimer: I am a relative neophyte at this martial art. There are 5 levels of BJJ to mark knowledge and application of that knowledge - marked by belt-color rank. Each belt usually takes a minimum of two years per belt - moving from white > blue > purple > brown > black. The differences in skill along the belt continuum are vast. As it stands, I am a newly-minted blue belt, so I am not in a strong position to take the long view. I only have a taste of things - even after hundreds of hours of training. So with that preamble, let's jump in to a handful of reflections:
Humility and humiliation: When I started BJJ, I weighed about 195# and was relatively strong in the gym for my age and size. I was benching about 240# and squatting close to 300#. My deadlift wasn't great, but I could move some weight. I've never been the most athletic guy, but I thought I was strong enough to handle myself in a scuffle. BJJ quickly disabused me of such a notion. In my first attempt at sparring with a female who was at least one third smaller than me, she tapped me four times in six minutes. I was choked, arm-barred, and even "crucified" (yes, that is a move). Remember the scene in The Three Amigos when the Amigos discover that they are not on a movie set, but in a real hostile situation in Mexico? Steve Martin's character comes back to Chevy Chase and Martin Short in a state of panic and confusion saying, "It's real. It's real. This is real." That is a pretty good picture of my first experience on the mats. We truly do not rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training. And if you haven't trained for this kind of situation, you will feel like a helpless child despite your strength and size. The journey starts with humility and humiliation.
Losing to win: But the journey doesn't just start with humility and humiliation. No, that dynamic continues on-and-on-and-on. You get tapped a lot. What is a lot? When I started, I would get tapped 10-15 times per class, at least. And while I'm probably at about half of that now, it is only because I'm usually rolling with peers who are closer to my level and I've learned some defense. I get some wins, sure. But the ratio of loss:wins is massive - if I had to guess it would be something like 50:1 for me. And if I start rolling with higher level belts, it grows exponentially. So you have to learn how to suffer through your ego getting thrashed hour after hour and day after day. Not to knock pickle-ball because I love pickle-ball, but this ain't pickle-ball. There is no quick lesson to get you in the game. Your ego will be sacrificed at the altar, believe me - and that is a beautiful thing.
Fighting yourself: One of the most interesting parts of the experience is learning how to manage your nervous system while you are being attacked. If you haven't been trained to fight, when you are physically attacked, your nervous system goes into fight/flight/freeze mode and you tend to lose your breath, tense up, and try to defend yourself with a great deal of rigidity and strength. It is not a character defect, it is a natural response. (This is also why children tend to learn BJJ so much faster because they are more inherently playful and fluid with each other). But the reality is that it is mostly counter-productive because when you become rigid, your body and limbs become easier to leverage and manipulate. It took me the better part of a year of training to calm my nervous system and stop losing my breathing and my limbs to various joint locks. This has been an invaluable tool for stressful situations in other parts of life because instead of immediately experiencing a jump in heart rate and a rush of blood to my brain, I am able to pause, slow everything down internally, breathe, and find my bearings. Before I can engage someone in combat, I have to master myself.
Survival first: One of my biggest inspirations is a female brown belt / yoga instructor who probably weighs 115 lbs soaking wet. Despite our weight difference, she effectively ties me into a pretzel and submits me almost every time we roll. Her technique is a wonder to behold. One of the things she used to say to me a lot is - "Survive first. If something bothers you, address that first." This sounds almost too simple, but it is harder than it sounds. When someone is choking you, one of our first instincts is to try and choke them back - to return fire and counter-attack. But if we don't "secure our safety mask" first as the airplane stewards say, our counter-attack will likely be too late and futile. So before we can launch offensively, we have to attempt to immediately address whatever is bothering us. We have to survive the immediate threat. Some people even say that the white belt is a defensive belt because it allows you the opportunity to withstand and potentially escape attacks. Once you know how to survive most attacks you can begin to effectively launch your own attacks.
Order of operations: One of the mantras you will often hear in BJJ is, "Position before submission." This simply means that you must focus on establishing and maintaining a dominant position before attempting to put a submission on someone. Again, this sounds simple, but it is hard in practice. You don't start by choking someone. No. You have to start by establishing a position. Then you need to maintain that position and control your opponent's body. Finally, you finish the attack. And in reverse, you have to defend the specific attack, escape their positional control, and then re-guard or sweep them to begin your own offensive order of operations. This kind of linearity seems intuitive, but it becomes infinitely complex against a dynamic opponent who may switch strategies in response to your responses. People call BJJ human chess and the are right to say so. There are many pieces on the board with almost infinite combinations, but the underlying principles of victory still apply.
The gentle art: There is a forty-something year old black belt I roll with a few times per week. He is probably about 5'6" / 150 lbs. Not a big guy by any stretch. But when I roll with him, he is completely relaxed and methodical. I'm not sure he breaks a sweat. With very efficient effort, he folds me up like a paper napkin. I've watched my 4-stripe black belt professor (about 200 lbs) spar with an ex-NFL player at almost 325 lbs, and submit him in similar fashion. Don't get me wrong - I'm sure it is effortful, but they do it without Mike Tyson like aggression and power. They simply know how to off-balance and maneuver opponents into situations that are extremely vulnerable. It is like a living picture of wisdom. When the ax is sharp, there is no need to swing with such force. It is beautiful to watch - a true art form.
Foxhole friends: Most of us are familiar with the "Band of Brothers" dynamic that many war veterans experience in battle. Nothing brings people together like surviving and fighting a common enemy. While BJJ cannot emulate combat or danger at that level, the principle is still at work. You cannot train BJJ by yourself. It absolutely requires training partners. Partners who are suffering through everything you are suffering through to get better. And the community that comes out of this shared suffering is one of the closest-knit communities I have ever seen. It rivals what I have experienced as a church member and even some experiences I have had in 12-step programs. People who work alongside each other in a context of suffering bond to each other. It is just human nature. So if you're looking for community - if you're lonely and need some friends - may I submit to you that BJJ might be one of the best choices you could ever make. I've gained more friends in BJJ over the past year and a half than I could have ever imagined. What a blessing.
God-willing, I will stay healthy enough to keep training... Stay tuned for updates along the way! OSS
**Many thanks to Peaceful Warrior Jiu Jitsu in Dana Point, CA for one of the best gyms around!
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