For the last 8 years, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu has been a big
part of my self-identity. For a little
clarity as to how long that is, consider that “Laffi Taffi” was a number one
song when I first started BJJ, and I still used mapquest to get to tournaments.
Living rent-free and studying at the community college freed me up to spend
what little cash I had on booze, pot, CD’s (yeah CD’s), and to take up a new
hobby in BJJ.
At first being a white belt felt goddamned awful. The more
experienced white belts knew enough to use me as a glorified practice dummy,
and the colored belts used me as a walking laboratory where they could try out
crazy experiments. Eventually, I caught up to those white belts, and the
colored belts even started to exert some real effort to beat my ass.
Improving as a white belt feels like being a toddler finger
painting. Anything you do well is received with praise and reinforcement, and
anything you do poorly is discarded as “Who gives a fuck? You’re a white belt! Just
be happy you didn’t pee yourself.” Everyday practice was a win-win situation
for me. It was exciting and fun. I remember learning things like: don’t leave
your arms out too far, don’t reach back to open the guard, and never ever wear
mesh shorts to practice. I started to gauge myself against the higher belts,
and started feeling personal pride when I did well against them. Eventually, my
progress took me far enough to earn a blue belt, and I even saw myself doing
well at comps.
After over a year and a half of training 7-9 times a week my
BJJ life took a big hit. I moved away to live in Long Beach, and though I had
training available for me, I became engulfed in a sea of school work. Suddenly
I didn’t have the time to train, and when I did train my regression was
painfully obvious. I could no longer dominate white belts, and suddenly other
blue belts were dominating me again. Being dominated is a shitty feeling. I
didn’t want to go to practice because I knew failure waited for me on those
mats. It was difficult to find the time to train, but really, I was happy to
find excuses.
Eventually I realized how much of a bitch I was being and
committed myself to sharpening my jiu jitsu. I moved away from the sun and fun
of Long Beach to train with my old teacher in Rancho Cucamonga. My first night
back I noticed that one of my old training partners had surpassed me. While I
genuinely felt very happy for him, a part of me felt jealous. I didn’t like the
fact that now I was that colored belt that newer guys/gals were gauging
themselves on. I struggled to properly execute techniques against beginners,
and losing against them hurt the ego I had built up before the break. I hated
being the “beatable” colored belt, but I had to accept it because jiu jitsu is
honest even if we’re not.
When jiu jitsu exposes a weakness, we have to acknowledge
it. We can decide not to, but the weakness will always be there laughing at us,
mocking us, and visible for all to see. Those who don’t want to admit their
short falls, fall behind. They quit trying to patch up their holes, and their
frustration eventually beats out their will to keep training. I think anyone
coming back from a layoff has to make the decision to either admit
vulnerabilities or give up trying to get better.
A layoff brings us back to the shitty days of being a brand
new white belt. We suck again, we have peers who toy with us, we have trouble
with newcomers, and we are face to face with our own impotence every day. But
unlike the old days as a beginner, we can’t dismiss failure as, “meh, you’re a
white belt” and at the same time, we don’t get praise for executing basic
techniques. The only praise we get is from ourselves. We have to be the judge
of our own progress.
When I first came back from the layoff, the toughest battle
was admitting to myself I wasn’t what I used to be. After accepting that heavy
truth, I realized that the person I should be trying to beat is not my training
partner, but myself from yesterday.
Here is where the ego must be discarded. The ego causes us
to compare ourselves to others, our training partners, our peers, our friends.
The ego feeds our personal pride, and in the immortal words of Mr. Marcellous
Wallace, “Fuck pride! Pride only hurts. It never helps.” Hubris is a sin for a
reason; it is something that builds as we progress, but we fear to lose. When
we fear to lose that pride, we make excuses. Excuses are lame… excuses are the
language of the weak, they're what we tell ourselves when we don’t want to take
responsibility. Furthermore, it really sucks to train with people who have such
a big ego they can’t give you any credit. I remember, after coming back from
another layoff as a purple belt, being swept by a white belt and telling
myself, “well I just wanted to let him work.” Go fuck yourself, you douche.
I’ve been swept, submitted, and mounted by lower belts
plenty of times, and I used to think of a reason why I didn’t perform, but the
reality was that they simply did a good job. I hated to admit it but fuck, they
got the better of me. And you know what? Good for them. After I reflected on
it, I realized I should be happy for them, not upset at myself.
It all goes back to the honesty of BJJ. Over the last few
years I’ve had to take more breaks from BJJ, each time I’ve tried to keep my
ego in check. As a white belt my shortcomings were excusable, and my ego was
allowed to grow. Later in my BJJ career those shortcomings weren’t as easily
dismissed, and I was forced to accept them and mature. This is what makes BJJ
such an amazing sport. In few places is pure honesty as evident as it is in
Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. When I tap my opponent to let him/her know I accept my
defeat, there is no lying there… I am acknowledging I lost. It may hurt, both
emotionally and physically, but by accepting my lickings I learn. And that’s
the whole point… to learn and grow.
Though the layoffs sucks, they are an opportunity to
reinvent yourself. A chance to build an even better you from scratch. It takes
honesty, it takes commitment, and it blossoms maturity. As we mature we find
that our goal should not be to beat up our training partners, but to be better when
we leave the gym than when we entered.
Ever had a Layoff? Let me know by following me on twitter
@LanguageFight and liking me on Facebook “Language Fight” and post in the
comment section below to tell us your story.
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