Sweep the Leg

While my first two blogs on jujitsu have been about my experience in trying a new sport, in this blog I hope to show you how stepping out of your comfort zone can be worth the effort. In my blogging history I’ve been quite open about my failures, whether it be in my writing career or firefighting or whatever tickled my ass at that particular moment. This blog is the opposite. This is about a small victory I’ve had in jujitsu and how I hope it can inspire you to step out of your comfort zone and try something you’ve always wanted to try.

As I stepped into Mr. Dale’s gym, I was ready for a new lesson. I’d been at it for a couple of months and was loving every minute of my experience. My friends are sick of hearing me drone on about my latest class which is why I’m now going to bore you. OK, hopefully not bore you.

While I was getting loosened up on the mat, two young ruffians (mid-twenties) entered through the main door. They spoke to Mister Dale for a minute and then took off their shoes and joined the class. I’d like to tell the story like these two newcomers were the villains and Mr. Dale and I were like Mr. Miyagi and Daniel-san but, to the detriment of this story, these two guys were as friendly as they come. With a skeptical glare, I introduced myself. Who were these invaders to our gym? One of the guys, Jeff, was 6’4 and about 230 LBs. The other guy, we’ll call him Frank, was smaller (maybe my height) with a decent build and a strong handshake. They said they were on leave from the military and wanted to learn some jujitsu. Damnit. Military? Another kink in my good-vs-evil storyline. These guys were coming off as Mother Theresas and I’m starting to look like the real jerk here. I should probably drop this particular narrative.

After warm-ups, Dale paired off with the big guy and told Frank to roll with me for two minutes. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but figured I’d just try to improve whatever position I found myself in. Frank and I faced each other and he spit on my outstretched hand . . .

Still not buying it? Alright, no spit. So he shook my spitless hand and we began on our knees. He immediately swarmed, aggressive and strong. I tried to draw on my last couple months of training and stay calm. He was stronger than me—I could feel it—as he pulled and pushed. Instead of matching strength, I dropped to my back and let him have the top position. I focused on getting my legs around his hips so he was in my guard.

He yanked at my legs and tried to get around them, but I focused on getting him back into my guard and, amazingly, I was successful each time. I tried a sweep I had previously learned to reverse our positions and end up on top, but he was too strong and not in the right position and fought it off. I stayed calm and pulled him back into my guard. He feverishly tried to pass my legs but by some martial arts magic I was able to reposition and keep him where I wanted. I tried another sweep and that time, somehow, I ended on top of him in the mount (one of the better positions to be in). He immediately bucked his hips and pushed with all of his strength. I calmly held firm and remained in the mount. I used very little strength to rebuff his escape attempt which further emphasized the benefit of technique over brawn.

I leaned my chest close to his face like Mr. Dale had done to me and put my weight onto his chest. I’d say we were about a minute thirty seconds in. While I know about three submissions from this position, and I’m sloppy with all three, I wanted to try something. I isolated his left arm in hopes of securing a shoulder lock. He fought it off well, mostly with strength. Then he whispered, “I need a rest.” I grinned. I knew the feeling from when Mr. Dale had smothered me two months earlier. (Yes, that’s what I’m saying—after two months I’m now as good as Mr. Dale. Don’t tell him I said that.)

I relaxed for a few seconds. He took a couple of deep breaths and then said he was ready to continue. I spent the last 10 or 20 seconds attempting any submission I could come up with, but I had no luck. Dale called time and we untangled ourselves. We shook hands and thanked each other.

Dale said to switch and Jeff, the behemoth, made his way toward me. “Really?” I said.

Dale nodded.

I was about to be screwed.

Jeff and I shook hands and began. I took the same tactic as with Frank and pulled Jeff into my guard. He seemed to have some knowledge of jujitsu because he knew how to break my guard with his elbows. Plus he was as strong as an ox. . . An evil ox.

Jeff was too big and strong and I was too tired, which caused me to be defensive most of the first minute. I thought I might die. With about a minute to go and, since neither of us were getting anywhere, we fell into me showing him a few of the sweeps I’d previously learned.

While Jeff was a beast and I was tired, it was my experience with Frank that I’m drawing on for this blog. Though I didn’t do anything spectacular with Frank, I had more success than I ever could have had merely two months before. It shows me I’m learning a ton. Here was a young guy, stronger and fitter than me, yet with even my limited knowledge and technique I was able to somewhat control him and have success.

And that’s the point of this blog. Not so much as to talk about what could come across as boring jujitsu positioning and technical blah, blah, blah, but more to show you how any ole’ slob could work toward a goal and have some success. It sounds easy but I know it’s not. For a lot of people it’s that first step that’s the killer. It’s the confidence to try something new. I’ve lacked confidence in my life, so I get it. If you’re reading this and there is something you’ve always wanted to try, or maybe you’ve been inactive as of late and aren’t happy with gaining a few pounds, I’m here to tell you to find that something you want and work toward it. Just like I’ve found jujitsu.

Have you always wanted to swim? Go join a YMCA and learn. Take that first step. Or plunge. Don’t worry that you won’t be able to do it, because I’m telling you that you will. Don’t worry about looking foolish or beating Michael Phelps either, because none of that matters. I promise you two months from now you’ll be better than you currently are, and you’ll be glad you tried. You may even enjoy yourself.

It’s not all physical either. Do you wish you could write a book? Go write one. If you don’t like how it turns out after the first draft (no one ever does), work on it until it’s something you’re proud of. Read books on writing. Draw on your favorite authors. Do whatever it takes to work toward a goal.

My friend, Tony, just went to Africa and hiked the trails of Mt. Kilimanjaro. That sounds insane to me. I used to say I could never do something like that, but at 44 years old I’ve learned that, if hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro becomes my passion one day, I could totally pull it off. Maybe not tomorrow but, if I worked toward that goal, it could happen. You could do it too is the point.

I’m an average guy at best. There is nothing spectacular about me. Just ask my wife. If you’ve had a week of jujitsu training, you might still whup my butt on the mat. That doesn’t matter. I’m still going to work at it for the foreseeable future and maybe someday I’ll actually be good at it. Or maybe I’ll decide to play a guitar. If that becomes my next passion, then I’ll give it my all. I imagine after two months of guitar, like with jujitsu and Mr. Dale, I’ll be as good as the teacher.

I’m just kidding, Mr. Dale. Please don’t hurt me in Friday’s class.

Sometimes I talk too much.

Update: It’s been over a month since the military guys stopped in and I haven’t seen them since. Maybe they found another gym or maybe jujitsu wasn’t as fun as they hoped it to be. Regardless, I’d like to believe it was our stellar defense of Mr. Dale’s gym and the villains have moved on to easier targets. Good guys-1, Bad guys-0.

Two Times the Pain

I’m a month into this jujitsu training and, while my body is a wreck at times, I’m loving it. So far I’ve had a slight ankle sprain from rolling on it wrong, a catch in my back, a slight groin pull from, I assume, slacking in my stretching, and the typical aches and pains from pushing a 40+-year-old body into a new physical endeavor. In the month or so since I started, Mister Dale has taught me a ton but I’ve barely scratched the surface.

Tonight’s class was going to be a bit different than previous classes. Mister Dale was on vacation and a friend of his joined Mister Steve to lead the class. The new guy—Ben—was a 22 or 23-year-old, 2^nd degree blackbelt, sporting long hair and a calmness that comes from knowing his craft. He was my size, only more fit from being 20 years my junior. After the warm-ups and stretching, Steve announced we were going to have a little open grappling to begin. He paired me with Ben.

Have you ever had that sinking feeling you were about to be in a world of hurt? Yep, I had that feeling.

We shook hands on our knees and began. Like Mister Dale had done a month before, Ben eventually lay onto his back and pulled me into his guard. Using my elbows like I’ve been taught, I pushed down on the insides of his thighs to break his lock on my waist. It worked. Sorta. He repositioned as I tried to pass his left leg and I was back in the guard with his legs tight around my waist. I was intensely focused on trying the most basic techniques I’ve learned, while Ben casually allowed me to attempt them. Ben was awesome. As I tried a particular escape, he’d either let me do it or he’d make me pay. But then he’d show me what I had done wrong. If he rolled me to my back, he’d teach me a way to avoid what had just happened. That’s not to say I could avoid it, only that I learned one way to try.

At one point I was on my knees in his guard (his legs around my waist) and my hands were on his chest. I felt a slight ramping up of his effort as he pushed one of my hands between his legs, threw his legs over my shoulders, and pulled my other hand toward his chin. I know this sounds confusing but think of a pretzel and then think of me as the pretzel. I knew from watching the UFC that he was putting me into a triangle choke, but I was powerless to stop it. Though Ben moved slow and methodically, I couldn’t resist. He locked his legs around my head. There was nowhere I could go. Calmly he squeezed. My first thought was, “Shiiiit!” I knew if I didn’t tap (surrender) then he could put me to sleep.

My second thought was, “Let’s see how bad this can get.”

Now understand, Ben was being very kind and soft on me. It was probably a little dickish on my part to not tap when he was being so kind but I was curious to what would happen. I tried to remember how UFC fighters escaped this triangle choke but nothing came to mind. Ben, realizing I wasn’t getting the point, repositioned a tad and pulled my head toward him. At the same time he pulled my head down he pushed my extended arm from his chest to his side where, now, I was not only being choked but my elbow was being hyperextended. Oh, did I mention that he squeezed his legs a little tighter? Yeah, that sucked too. At this point I had no choice but to tap. So, that’s what I did. And mercifully, Ben released his hold.

Next, I was privy to a guillotine choke which is as unpleasant as it sounds. Yep, I tapped that time also. This entire experience is humbling. Try imagining a game of basketball against Lebron James and then imagine you’ve never touched a basketball beforehand. That’s what it can feel like at times, only with a little more pain. I’ve heard Joe Rogan call MMA “High-level problem solving with dire consequences” and I think that is a brilliant way to describe the sport. I’m currently experiencing the consequences part.

We ended the open grappling session and then Steve led us through a couple different techniques. I was fortunate to stay paired with Ben to practice those new techniques. I was in Heaven if Heaven was having constant pain and choking.

Toward the end of class Ben had a chance to show off a little. He lay on his back and told me to try and pass his legs again from his guard. As you’ve read in this blog and in my last blog I’m not having a lot of luck doing this. There was one difference this time—he didn’t use his hands. As if to further demonstration my ineptitude he locked his fingers behind his head like he was resting in a hammock. I used two legs, two arms, my head, a baseball bat, three knives, and the jaws of life and couldn’t get past his legs. I coulda sworn that guy had more legs than a spider. We played this game until time was up (roughly a minute or two) and I loved it. I have learned so much already, despite what you’ve read so far.

Class ended yet I wanted it to go on for hours. Ben was fantastic. I’m having a blast in this new endeavor. I hope to keep it up indefinitely. Now, it’s time to find an icepack and a chiropractor. Before you go, can someone please help me get out of this chair?