(This title is a throwback to “Ilsa gets silly,” but since this Jiu-Jitsu post will obviously not be as pleasant, I’m adding happy pictures to take the edge off. You’re welcome. 🙂 )
At the start of class, I was standing near Jack the Black (belt) when it was time for Instructor to pair people up.
“I want Jack,” I said, sort of quietly, since demanding your partner isn’t done. But I did want to work with Jack. I hope he was flattered.
Unfortunately, at roughly the same time, Instructor was calling over Enthusiastic Teen (ET) to partner with me. He knows we’ve worked together in the past.
We also give each other a hard time for kicks, so I said, “Ugh, I got ET.”
ET didn’t even flinch as he stepped up next to me.
Instructor changed his mind and put me with someone from the old days. My first impression back then was that this guy was worse than Indifferent Man and more like Trying-To-Ignore-My-Presence-Man. Or maybe Uncomfortable Man, as in, he didn’t like me being there. But whatever. He seems more used to me now, and we got on alright, except for him being a bit Drake-like in the squashing me department. Fortunately, no lasting damage, but I did say, “Oooff,” a couple times, and some “Urggh”s, and various assorted painful groans.
When there’s a soft fuzzy furry kitty on your lap, all’s right in the world.
I went down an Amazon T-shirt rabbit hole. Throughout this post are pics of the two shirts you overwhelmingly voted for last time (immediately below) and several more for your consideration and entertainment. Let me know which are your faves. I will purchase one of them, but know that my vote counts triple. 😉
A blogger shared with me what she overheard on a podcast discussing martial arts:
“The guest had suggested that when ladies learn martial arts (like JJ) it can help them have more confidence and experience to fight with an attacker (sounded like a good point) but then Rogan noted that it would take years and years of training and then even with that – ‘basic anatomy’ plays a role in determining how most women would do if fighting with an attacker.”
“So while great for self defense and good for mind and body coordination and stability – the best advice is for people to put distance between themselves and the attacker (as opposed to someone with a certain level belt assuming they can take down someone twice their size).”
This is a good reality check. And I don’t disagree. Sure, I found it a little discouraging, but then I thought about my reasons for doing Jiu-Jitsu and Taekwondo:
Am I expecting to get attacked at every turn? No.
Do I intend to don a cape and spandex to fight crime vigilante-style? No.
Do I think it would be nice to have some ability to defend myself should I need it? Yes.
Am I largely just doing this for the fun of it? Also, yes.
Do I enjoy the challenge of learning something hard? Yes. (It helps that I have realistic expectations of myself. I never thought I’d be a natural at this.)
Does it give me greater confidence in general? Yes.
Is teaching what I’ve learned to middle school girls fun, fulfilling, and challenging? Yes.
Do they enjoy the class for all or most of those reasons above? I believe so, yes.
It has been pointed out to me more than once that the best option, when viable, is to simply run away. I joked that I should hang up my gi and work on my speed instead.
How am I doing?
Think I could outrun a bad guy at that speed? (This is also a nod to fans of The Office.)
I saw an interview with actor Ed O’Neill (Married… with Children, Modern Family), who has a black belt in Ju-Jitsu. He used his knowledge twice to put a rear naked choke (RNC) on men who had become unruly. This move is a good go-to, and I’ve already proven that I can, with a bit of struggle, successfully get the job done on a male blue belt (Surfer Dude 1). I don’t hope to need this skill in real life, but if I do, I’ll have it.
Fun side note: Hubs and I recently saw The Lost City. Brad Pitt used the RNC on several bad guys. I whispered to Hubby, “He’s using perfect technique. It’s nice the writers did their research.” Later in the film, Channing Tatum tries to imitate Pitt, but does so humorously wrong and unsuccessfully. It was a cute movie, and I’ve been a fan of Sandra Bullock ever since While You Were Sleeping.
The guy who said I have the perfect limbs for crushing someone’s life out (Be still my heart) was the only one unpartnered when I arrived for Saturday’s class. I was glad I’d already met him during the Triangle Choke class, as that made this much easier.
“Looks like it’s you and me,” I said on approach.
“Let’s do it,” he said with a nod.
This man is my new Timmy/Andre in general size, except Andre was careful with me. (Despite that whole bending my foot backward incident.) This New Andre, whom I’ll call Drake, heavily dragged his leg over mine multiple times (as expected, I’m feeling it today) and gave me a knee to the stomach. I said “Oof” many times and a couple of “Ow”s.
Still a nice guy, he was at least trying to not hurt me.
At one point he said, “You got Draked.”
Somehow, in the moment, I found it funny. Now, I just find it as lame as lame can be. I hope to avoid partnering with him in future classes.
After class, I had an opportunity to “relate” to Li’l Trejo.
“I saw a Korn sticker on your water bottle a while back,” I told him.
“Yeah.” He smiled.
“One time after class, I turned on the radio and a Korn song was playing. So I cranked it up and drove fast. Then I got stopped at a light.”
“Oh,” he grimaced.
“I was like, doesn’t this light know I just came from Jiu-Jitsu? I need to GO!”
He smiled in understanding. “I like metal like Korn and Disturbed…”
I nodded in recognition. Disturbed has a cool cover of The Sound of Silence. Don’t ask me to name any other songs. And I only knew I was listening to Korn because I used Shazam, a song recognition app.
Li’l Trejo continued with other band names foreign to me. “I just love music.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Not a lot of girls like Korn. It’s rad that you do.”
My shoulders hurt after Monday’s Jiu-Jitsu class, so Tuesday night I thought to myself: I gotta bandage my shoulders before tomorrow’s class.
Wednesday morning: I gotta bandage my shoulders before tonight’s class.
Wednesday afternoon: I gotta bandage my shoulders before tonight’s class.
Wednesday night’s class: I didn’t bandage my shoulders.
Because I simply refuse to wear the thick hot heavy gi top, much to Jiu-Jitsu purple belt blog buddy Tom’s consternation, I knew my shoulders were going to take a hit.
It was 80 degrees yesterday, okay?! And even hotter in the gym. I put both fists up to bump Surfer Dudes 1 and 2 as I slid between them against the wall.
“It’s hot in here,” remarked SD2.
“No kidding,” I said.
“Hi, Betsy,” said SD1, clearly harboring no grudge for last class’s rear naked choke.
This class was Elbow Escape, which requires “shrimping”: moving away from your opponent by pushing off the floor with one foot and rotating on the opposite shoulder. Basically, we’re curling then straightening our bodies to move backwards, much like how a shrimp swims when it wants to get away quickly.
To add injury to injury, Instructor had everyone lay down and practice shrimping from one side of the room to the other and back again. I was feeling the sting immediately. Here’s where the gi top would’ve helped, but I had planned to have pre-bandaged shoulders! And that was before I knew this class would involve any shrimping, let alone a TON of shrimping.
The elbow escape itself requires not one but three shrimps, or in my case, four. My opponent was on the short side, so I needed to shrimp an extra time to create space for my foot to get out from behind his knee.
This one’s not as bad. Some spots are scabbed over.
At Monday night’s Jiu-Jitsu class, Enthusiastic Teen arrived when I did. We exchanged the usual pleasantries. “Hi, Betsy, how are you?” “Good, Enthusiastic Teen. How ’bout yourself?” “Good, thanks.”
We found our cards, set them on Instructor’s desk, then I pulled ET to the mat, ready to sweep him, but he beat me to it. (Dang it! Gotta be quicker!)
I glom onto ET because he’s a kid. I don’t care about decorum and asking politely to practice with him. I just grabbed him and said, “Let’s do this.” He’s fun to work with, but also difficult.
I wanted to practice the Triangle Choke. I was on my back with my legs in a vice grip around his throat. I had him all locked up, but he wasn’t choking. (Discouragement #1)
“Have you got it?” he said.
“I think so.”
“You sure?”
I nodded.
Then he stood.
He’s 6 feet or so and swung me around in a circle with my head hanging by his knees.
“Ach! Put me down!” And he did, eventually.
“Nice job hanging on, Betsy,” came Instructor’s voice. “Sometime I’ll show you the sweep so he can’t do that to you.”
So it’s a sweep. I imagine an ankle sweep with my hands. Good to know.
Still…
The rest of class was centered on the Elevator Sweep, one I know well, but had a hard time doing authentically on much larger ET. (Discouragement #2) He was basically just rolling over and saying, “Oh, no. You got me. You’re so strong,” in a fake, mocking tone.
ET can be such a punk. At one point I said, “Sorry, was that word not on your SAT prep?” So I guess I can be a punk too. (Too bad I can’t remember what the word was. Still, it was a sick burn.)
At the end of class came Wall Drills.
Instructor had us line up on either side of the room. “If you’re above 5’10” go to the opposite wall.” Bye-bye, ET. Have fun practicing with the big kids.
Remember a few posts ago when I was bragging about Older Gentleman saying, “Wow,” because I could throw him off but he couldn’t throw me off? Yeah, well, that’s because he doesn’t really know Jiu-Jitsu yet.
One blog name suggestion during the “contest” was “Crazy with a Yellow Belt.” If we had gone with that, it would need to be updated now.
The green belt test was not nearly as embarrassing as my yellow belt test. Did I still screw something up?
Of course I did.
When the testing was complete, Sensei instructed my partner and me to return to our starting line. I began jogging to the spot I’d been seated before being called up for the test. I realized halfway there that he meant our starting line from which we DID the test.
I turned around and smiled at him sheepishly as I returned to the appropriate line. Fortunately, he smiled back. It’s a good thing we’re friends or he might have instead been irritated, annoyed, or given me a reproving look.
I later considered that it pays to be a nice, friendly person. That greases the skids of forgiveness for my flubs. If I weren’t nice, he might have reacted differently. I synthesized that thought process down into this text exchange:
Soon after, the girls and I got the flu. I was worried we might have spread it to him, so I gave him a heads up and suggested he take preventative measures. Then it occurred to me that I had an opportunity to get back at him for his snark and maybe get a leg up for a change. Here’s what I wrote post-testing, pre-belt ceremony:
I woke up early and failed to fall back asleep. When I looked at the clock 35 minutes later, I realized the morning class started in 30 minutes.
Could I make it? Did I want to get up? Not really. If I did would I have time to eat? There was that one Saturday class where I woke up too late to eat much and nearly passed out. Ironically, today’s class was the same lesson.
Finally, with 20 minutes until class started, I flung the blankets from me.
It was still fully night when I left, which was disappointing. I wanted some spectacular sunrise, especially after Chatter Master’s enticing propaganda piece for mornings. (I know that was directed at me, CM!) I ate most of a banana on the way and a couple gulps of Muscle Milk.
The moon when I arrived, on time. The gym was still dark. I thought, Are you kidding me? Is class actually canceled this morning when I finally get up for it? But then Instructor rolled up a few minutes late, and several others poured from their cars, lying in wait, as I was.
I recognized three people from other classes. (Where has Timmy/Andre been hiding? Haven’t seen him in months.) One older gentleman with brown hair I strongly suspect is dyed, was milling, so I offered to practice with him. (Look at me go! So much easier when there are only a handful of students.)
This was Older Gentleman’s (OG’s?) fifth class. I couldn’t help but think, “Aww. I remember when it was my fifth class.” Suddenly I was Nate the Great commiserating with THIS guy about how difficult it was when *I* first started.
In fact, I was the most senior student there. My, how the tables have turned. I was actually teaching THIS guy how to do the moves, such as the basic trap and roll. When I did it to him, a guy much bigger than me, he said, “Wow. I didn’t think you’d be able to do that.”
Jiu-Jitsu, baby!
Jumping ahead briefly to the end of class, it was his turn to try to throw me off, but I got my hooks in and hands out for base, switching from side to side as he tried to roll me this way and that, exhausting himself until he gave up. “Wow,” he said again in a tone of, “This stuff really works.” I threw my arms overhead in triumph. (Like I should’ve done with Andre.)
I’ve always thought 5’6″ 130-pound Instructor was the poster child for the effectiveness of Jiu-Jitsu, but move over, buddy!
I can’t help but read those three words and hear them shouted in unison by a game show audience. You?
I discovered a few more bruises on my arms and thought, Huh. Wonder what those are from. Could be Jiu-Jitsu, could be from running into something. Well, probably not. That does happen on occasion, but I’m not a klutz. Though I have no problem making fun of myself. For instance, has anyone heard me sing? Of course not, because anyone who has immediately takes their life afterward.
Right arm.
Left arm.
Probably could’ve taken those in a more balanced manner. Sorry about that. Not trying to elbow you in the face.
~~~
Like all good stories, this one begins with a cat.
The neighbor’s cat was strolling toward our front door, so I immediately opened it to invite him in. He politely declined the offer by launching himself bodily into the nearest bush.
This did, however, enable me to discover two packages waiting for me.
I arrived late to Jiu-Jitsu Monday night, which I don’t mind, as I want to avoid the practice-before-class-officially-starts part. I was not late enough, however. The only un-partnered person on the mat was the only one who scares me. Not because he’s big, but because he looks like a dude who would be typecast as the bad guy. He’s the Danny Trejo of Jiu-Jitsu.
The guy in my class is young, though, long haired and with knuckle tattoos. He looks like he’d be one of Chicken Man’s henchmen in Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul.
I was more than happy to stretch out waaaaaay on the other side of the mat from Li’l Trejo until Instructor spotted me and suggested I jump in with this guy. Fine. I greeted him and offered a fist bump. He lifted a hand to shake. We both smiled. He closed his hand for a bump. I opened mine for a shake. We laughed, we smiled, we gave up on a third attempt, and I realized he’s not the classic villain, he’s the family pet, namely, the sweet puppy dog.
I wasn’t paired with him during class but with a guy who had the darkest blue eyes I’d ever seen on a human. He was also a bit rough. When trying to do the move, he made me work for it. I’m used to guys taking it easy on me. Maybe I should be grateful that this guy didn’t treat me as anything special.
He also gave me my latest war wounds:
Long scratch on my right arm.
Harder to see, but a scratch that curls underneath and some old bruise on the left.
Instructor is great about including me. Months ago, when there were more people in the 11:00 class, he was angled away from me as he told a story “to the guys,” but then he turned his head and made eye contact with me as well, bringing me into the group. It was then that I truly felt I’d been accepted as one of them, at least by him.
In our recent one-on-one classes, he’d say, “When you get to Master Cycle…” which comes after this beginners’ Combatives course. Notice the “when,” not “if.”
Tonight he twice said “man or woman.” For instance, “…with your thumb pointed back at yourself because you’re the man or the woman.”
A couple funnies: He was crouched over his opponent, calling it “Spiderman pose.” Then he put both hands out, middle fingers pressed to his palms. This must have been a new one, not only to me, because the literal actual black belt next to me chuckled along with me.
Another time he said, with a completely straight face, “You want to go fast, not only because it’s smoother, but because it looks cool.”
Next he talked about doing the arm bar on someone much stronger. “If you need to, you can grab the top of his hand for greater leverage, but I’ve really only needed to do that twice.” He continued instructions and asked if anyone had questions.
A guy raised his hand and asked, “Was I one of those two?”
Instructor thought for a moment. “You might have been, yeah.”
And in the brief moment of silence that followed, I was feeling comfortable enough to be silly. See if you can guess how.
Writing and Martial Arts 