Tag Archives: Jiu Jitsu

Mar23

Watching the sunrise through the Jiu-Jitsu window

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Watching the sunrise through the Jiu-Jitsu window

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!

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Mar19

New blog feature: “What’s! That! Bruise?”

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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.

Two (nearly) identical packages.

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Mar14

Ilsa gets silly

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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.

Check him out! He has a book!

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.

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Mar13

The first rule of Fight Club…

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I’ve mentioned that I teach middle and high school girls self defense after school once a week. My Partner in Crime (PiC) teaches the boys. We’ve been doing this in a classroom, pushing the desks and chairs off to the side, and laying mats on the floor. The teacher of that room often comes in, carefully skirting the mats (we have a strict no shoes on the mat rule) to get something from his desk.

It’s also the classroom where teacher meetings are usually held. One afternoon the principal got on the intercom to announce a teacher meeting. Just before he could say which room to meet in, this particular teacher rushed into the principal’s office and said, “Not the 8th grade! They’re doing Fight Club in there!”

I was so glad someone witnessed this and told me about it later.

Before weather was less permissive, we stretched the mats out on the grass in the courtyard. Frequently teachers, sometimes parents, would walk by, staring. It undoubtedly looked weird. I’d wave to them from the ground as I had their child or student locked up in Punch Box Stage 1, for instance.

“Nothing to see here. Just teaching your sweet girl how to hurt people.” (Didn’t actually say that. But it was implied.)

Recently a girl showed up late so one of my students got her up to speed. “Come here. Let me show you. First you do this, this, then this, this,” etc.

I stood there watching, hands clasped to my chest, fighting back tears (just kidding), but I was so very very proud.

~~~

Because I brought Neighbor to class, Instructor offered me a free t-shirt with the Gracie Jiu-Jitsu logo and the name of our local gym. He didn’t have an adult small, so he offered me a child’s large.

The child’s large was too big for me.

I relayed this story to PiC. He said, “You need to eat more.”

Ya think?

So he prescribed me this “diet:”

I shared the t-shirt story with another friend and told him of PiC’s prescribed milkshake routine to bulk up. He said, “Well, yeah,” and pointed at my arm.

So I punched him in his biceps.

He rubbed it. “That was a good hit.”

Because he knows I do Jiu-Jitsu, I told him, “That was my Taekwondo training. And if it bruises, I want to see it.”

I texted this story to my sensei because I realized afterward that I had proper form without having to think about it. I thought he’d be proud. Instead:

I also told him about my other friend and the milkshake diet. He responded:

It’s great that both my martial arts instructors are funny.

So I’ve been trying to eat more and drink my milkshakes, which are quite yummy. Too bad they are meant to be in addition to other meals, but they usually wind up being the meal.

Then, of course, because nothing can go my way for long, this happened:

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Mar11

Wednesday night’s class

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The highlights:

When I was putting my stuff in the cubby before class, Instructor came over and told me he would pair me with “Nate,” the gray-haired blue belt to whom I’d said, “I guess you’re stuck with me,” at that awful Saturday class. Then he walked across the room to Nate and gave him instructions on the last thing I’d learned and therefore what to practice with me. I appreciated Instructor’s attentiveness. Nate gave me helpful pointers, went slowly, and even commiserated about how hard it was when he was new to this.

When class started, Instructor collected our cards as we were lined up along the wall. I noticed that the guy next to me had fewer X’s on his card. “Thanks for being even newer than I am,” I said. He smiled. Later on, Instructor used his classic, “You want to be stacked shoulder over shoulder, hip over hip. When you go to Denny’s and they give you a stack of pancakes but one is off on the side, that’s not acceptable.” This newer guy laughed, and that made me smile. That was me two weeks ago, cracking up at the lightsaber and Jedi lines when no one else was. I guess they get repeated, and laughing only shows your newness.

Thank you, Daria of pixabay, for the photo.

A moment later he added, “Actually, I wouldn’t really mind if a pancake was sticking out.” [Mark, who previously took issue with his pancake comment, may appreciate knowing he would still eat the outlying pancake.]

The door opened, and I was delighted to see Enthusiastic Teen enter. I’d only seen him once, back in December. He seemed unmoved by my presence, the punk. But for a short time, he was partnered with Nate and me. I must have curled my hand at him in a “bring it” gesture. He said, “Like you could hurt me.”

“I have a stripe now, so watch it.”

He picked up the end of my belt, pretending to examine the stripe for authenticity. I was glad his playfulness had returned. So did another guy, so ET was off to pair with him.

“Craig,” another upper belt who had been my partner last Saturday, was assisting Instructor by doing the rounds, checking everyone’s form. He stepped closer to give me a fist bump and a “Hi, Betsy.”

When Lopez arrived late, he walked along the opposite wall of where we were all standing to get to the far end of the line. As he did, he smiled and waved at me.

Another time, that new guy from my stripe class said, “Bye, Betsy!” as I was on my way out the door.

I’m reminded of what I said after my first class: “I intend to win over all these fellows.” I seem to be off to a good start. Maybe I’m less ignorable and can be taken more seriously because it’s clear I’m here to stay. Also, these are really just a nice bunch of dudes. From everything I’ve seen, not just from being in this class, Jiu-Jitsu seems to attract them.

I had said in my last post that I’ll miss being able to chat with Instructor, but at the end of class, he was alone at his desk as I was about to leave.

“Did you try an orange yet?” I asked.

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Mar9

The universe strikes another blow

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The universe strikes another blow

I thought I’d finally gotten a leg up. (Man, these Jiu-Jitsu puns are writing themselves!) I went to another Saturday class, did as a BBB advised, and just inserted myself in with the guys.

“Mind if I squeeze in here?” I asked two stretching against the wall.

“Oh, sure,” one said and scooched over a bit.

Seeing these same guys two weeks in a row helps, I think. They’re hopefully getting more used to the Girl in their Midst. (In case you’re unsure, yes, I was going for a Gorilla in the Mist thing there.)

One guy I recognized from the previous Saturday was assigned to me by Instructor, so he had no choice but to partner with me. That was basically fine. Then, just like last Saturday, Lopez showed up late. I don’t know if he was told to, or if he jumped in with me on his own, but my previous partner melted in to a group elsewhere without a word. Maybe with a breath of relief? Who knows.

Lopez, as I’ve mentioned, is great. I was happy to show off my white stripe. “Hey, great! Congratulations,” he said, and the rest of the class passed without incident.

Then Monday’s daytime class was mysteriously canceled. I tried to make it to the evening class, but I just couldn’t swing it. (Eh, maybe a pseudo-pun. That seems more appropriate for a Taekwondo post.)

Then this morning I checked the course calendar and discovered this:

Gracie Combatives March calendar. Notice anything missing?

Where was my 11:00???

I texted Instructor.

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Feb26

Saturday class/Boys club

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This was a large Jiu-Jitsu class, with no familiar faces. And no female faces. Instructor greeted me with a smile, as always, and suggested I jump in to practice with someone. Everyone was paired off. He was busy on-boarding a newbie. While everyone else grappled on the mat, I stretched.

And stretched.

And stretched.

You can only work on your legs for so long before it’s obvious you’re stalling. I got up and wandered over to the card rack where students’ cards show how many classes they’ve had. Probably not supposed to be nosy, but I was desperate to kill time. Savage Teen Girl is close to her fourth stripe (one for every 20 classes). As I suspected, Adrian Brody’s card was gone. He must have quit. :/

Seeing their cards made me wonder, where was Timmy? Surfer Dude 1 and/or 2? Lopez? Enthusiastic Teen? Indifferent/Sweaty Man? Heck, I would’ve been grateful even for STG at that point.

I sat on the bench and checked Twitter… Signal… read about cuttlefish on wiki… And overall felt grateful to have a smart phone so I looked slightly less like an idiot.

Le cuttlefish, compliments of naveen manohar on Pixabay. Why cuttlefish, you ask? Why not, I say.

I considered being assertive, just walking over to a pair of dudes and asking if I could jump in. But no one even glanced my way. Another guy I’d never seen came in late. I smiled; he ignored me. I looked at him again, ready to compliment his eyebrow ring and say something about my cartilage piercings, but he jogged past me onto the mat. Another guy greeted him with, “There are no third wheels here.”

Unless you’re a girl, apparently.

You know those movies where the woman is the lone female in a male-dominated field so she has to be confident and assertive to gain everyone’s respect despite the odds stacked against her?

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Feb24

The world is ending.

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I played chicken with the universe and lost. I’m sure it thought my last post was rather entertaining, and yet it was not amused.

I didn’t attend class Monday, but kicked my cold by skipping the coffee and replacing it with Emergen-C. That stuff works wonders.

So, I felt fine today, health-wise. The bruises and soreness are minimally there, so whatevs.

I skidded into class a few minutes late, saying, “I’m here! I’m here!”

Other than Instructor, no one else was.

Happily on my way to class, feeling like I’ll be coming out on top at last.

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Feb20

What next, you ask? Let me tell ya.

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“So we’ve done the ‘rona, the broken toe, and the falling on a baseball bat. How should we mess with Betsy now?”

“First of all, we don’t know for sure she broke her toe. It still looks all right, and she could always bend it.”

“Sure, but it hurt when she did, and being able to bend it doesn’t mean it didn’t break. At least, according to the internet.”

“Whatever. You know she’d never go to the doctor for her pinky toe anyway.”

“True. But, ‘Falling on a baseball bat’? Dramatic much?”

“We’re THE UNIVERSE! We invented drama!”

“Still, she was flipped over onto a girl’s bony forearm. Not exactly the same thing as a bat.”

“Hurt like it did, though.”

“True dat!” Earth-shaking chuckle. Metaphysical fist bump.

“So back to the problem at hand. We’ve been doing an excellent job of keeping Betsy away from Jiu-Jitsu. But if we’re not careful, she’ll defy us and keep going back anyway.”

“You’re right. We need to do something that will make it so she can’t go back, no matter what.”

“Okay, okay. I like where you’re going with this.” Rubs hands together. Several stars explode.

“I got it! Are you ready for this?”

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Feb18

What do I need to throw into a volcano?

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Message to my Jiu-Jitsu instructor:

So here’s what happened NOW.

On Wednesday afternoons, a buddy and I co-teach a self defense class at our kids’ school. He works with the guys; I work with the girls. I was teaching the Elevator Sweep (originally mentioned here, though I had the name wrong), when the girl stuck her arm out last second and rolled me over onto it. I got up, paused, breathed, and this should tell you how much it hurt: I used a CLICHE!!

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” I said.

I’m so ashamed.

Her arm was fine, but by side hurt worse than my gnarly ugly foot.

One week after “The Incident.”

So far I have been to class twice this month. Twice!

Every 20 classes, you get a white stripe on your belt. (Anyone else hearing Seven Nation Army in your head all of a sudden? M?) In my last class, Sweaty/Indifferent Man earned his fourth stripe, and we all clapped. Instructor then pointed at me with a broad smile and said, “You’re next.”

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