Category Archives: jiu-jitsu

A Dark Blue One

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“I only own one gi, and it’s getting pretty old, dirty, starting to fall apart. I want to get one of the dark blue ones, but I don’t see many. Do you think you have any in my size?”

“Why blue?”

“White looks dirty very easily. My pants are pretty much permanently gray. I have a black cat to boot.”

“I like them. Forces people to wash them.”

“They look dirty even when do wash them, though.”

“Ever seen the pink gis?”

“YES! Yuck. I don’t think I’ve never seen anyone in one though except for the internet. Do women actually wear those?”

“Yeah, when I was in California there was a all women’s class of like 30, all happily rolling in their pink gis.”

“Well, no pink and co-ed classes here, and I prefer it that way.”

“We can order you a gi and you won’t have to pay shipping. Just look on the Gracie website. Did you want to get that in a women’s size?”

“Women’s size? Do they have a different sizing system? I think this one is like an A2 or A3. I’m having a hard time finding a tag where it isn’t completely worn off.”

“Yes, they do have women’s sizes and the gis fit different.”

“Cool. What colors do they have? Do they have the dark blue.”

“No. They only have them in pink.”

“…so that class of women? How do you know they were happy to wear pink if they only had the option was pink or a gi that doesn’t fit right? Maybe they’re actually all angry and feel ridiculous in their pink gis?”

“So… you don’t want a pink gi?”

“…nah, I want a dark blue one. A pink one probably still won’t fit right anyways. It’s not like most womens’ pants do.”

Steak of Breakfast

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I’ve been having some back, neck, and shoulder pain issues lately that have interfered with me enjoying my normal routine of kicking ass doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (which by the way involves no kicking, but my ass might sit on someone while submitting them). It’s equally painful to sit for long periods in front of a computer or in my truck which I need to do for the job thing. I always tap out before my neck gets really cranked, but let’s face it, that’s still just not good for soreness that’s already there. Sitting for long periods of time sounds harmless enough, but I assure you, it’s even worse. When I exercise my muscles get loose and happy. When I sit in the same spot all day driving, typing, or talking on the phone my muscles are like, “Um, can we like go do something?”. When I tell them no, they get unhappy and tight. Lately no amount of stretch breaks and lay on my cube floor breaks have been helping.

I turn to vitamin I. Vitamin I is also known as ibuprofen. I’m always the good person who takes it with food and drink, but apparently sometimes I still can’t handle it. I’ve been getting terrible heartburn off and on which may be due to taking more vitamin I than normal, or it could be completely unrelated. All I know is that if your back hurts in a tight, achey way and then your chest burns with pain at the same time, it interferes with your happiness.

I’ve been trying to get the not-boyfriend to give me awesome massages, but I swear he was way more interested in this activity before we were dating. I guess I shouldn’t think about that too much.

To be fair he has been sick and stressed and I’m sure that the last thing he wants to do is look at me and think, “More work I need to do. More that is expected of me!”

For those of you wondering about what a not-boyfriend is, since I don’t think I ever blogged about not-boyfriend, we’ve been dating since shortly after the boy dumped me. I call him not-boyfriend even though he has told me I can tell people he’s my boyfriend and he introduces us as boyfriend and girlfriend. I do this because I am silly over literal and dedicated to the truth. I mean, I can’t tell you the difference between him and a boyfriend, because all of the components are there, but we don’t call each other by these names. If we can’t say it to each other, it just feels weird saying it to other people. “This Guy I’m Dating” is just too much to say and/or type. I’m starting to try out the phrase, “My boyfriend was saying…” but I’m just not there yet. Those of you with a good sense of time (or are stalking me) will know me and the boy broke up last October. It’s now this November. If you ask not-boyfriend, he’ll say we “officially started dating” in February. If we don’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, how does one know when you officially start dating? I don’t know either. I personally also can’t recall anything about the month of February that indicated we were official then and not in January. Additionally I think we’ve since become closer in March and all those months after. Lately he’s been further confusing me about throwing in, “Now that we’re more serious,” and “Since we’ve become serious.”. You might be asking how serious it can be if you have issues with the words boyfriend and girlfriend? I don’t know, but if I suddenly have a ring, white picket fence, and four hundred babies and we’re still working on wording, someone might have to intervene. You may have to sit us down and say, “Look, you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Just say it already fer chissakes.”

So I did get a massage this past weekend and it helped a lot, but it’s now Wednesday.

The massage was something like:

“You don’t feel that tight.”

“Yes, I’m making it up.”

“Nooo, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying your back doesn’t feel that tight.”

“Well then you’re not pressing hard enough.”

“…”

“Can you go harder than that? …That’s what she said.”

“Is that too hard?”

“No, you can go harder than that.”

Eventually he cracked his knuckles loudly and declared that was all he could do. That is exactly what it feels like, no mater how much I stretch or rub the muscles, it still feels sore and tight. Before everyone recommends some fancy deep tissue massage, I have four words for you: You pay for it. I’ve never had a professional massage since I’ve never had expendable income (yet). Even if I could come up with the money to do one of these, I’m sure one little session will not be the end of it. Massages are an addictive drug even when you don’t have any pain. A professional massage when it gets rid of pain sounds like I’m filling up a credit card.

One thing that has been helping is using a heating pad before I work out to loosen me up. The gym I train at is nice enough to heat one up for me to put on my back while I begin to warm up. If it helps then, it can help at other times, right? So now I need to buy something. It always comes back to money.

As I was commuting this morning and posturing and stretching, wiggling in the driver seat, I decided it was time to visit a pharmacy to get a heating pad of my own. I couldn’t imagine sitting for at least eight more hours and then commuting home without doing something other than giving myself heartburn. In this case I think it’d be okay to be a few minutes late. This was going to make me into a happy worker bee.

There was a long line at the register of people buying one thing a piece. One of the guys in front of me tried to do the, “Oh, ladies first!” to a good looking woman who pointed out,

“There’s people behind you.” Score one for fairness, minus one for flirting. So much for looking at her backside.

“We all have like one item a piece, it shouldn’t take too long,” I stated to the line.

This apparently cued the guy in front of me to just start talking. He was certainly talking to the rest of the line, but he wasn’t continuing the conversation, “Man some retard was blaring his horn this morning and I was like I wish I had one of those devices that could just like disable someone’s electrical system. Z-pow! No more horn for you!”

I couldn’t think of any kind of response to fill the silence. He started again,

“Wow, I ate steak for breakfast. I have a wicked rush right now. It’s like my blood is on fire!”

Another register opened up to help the next person in line.

“I’m running late for work. Anyone mind if I cut in front?” a guy in back of me walks to the front of the line not waiting for anyone to answer.

“Ya, actually, I’m on my way to work too,” I say before he gets to the register. The guy glares, throws down the breakfast bar he has, and stalks out. Immediately a third cash register opens up, and one more person at the register finishes. As he walks out the door, he could have been going up to a free register.

I walked up, put down my heating pad, and commented on how some people just thing the world revolves around them.

That’s not the best part. The best part is me imagining him being late and telling his boss that he was late because of some *expletive* chick who wouldn’t let him cut in line. His coworkers all make non-committal noises and comments he takes as agreement as they really think, “Wow! What a jerkface!”. I love thwarting jerkfaces. Call it a hobby.

Women in Grappling

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I came across an article with a woman’s opinion how to attract women grapplers to your martial arts school.

http://www.grapplearts.com/how-to-get-women-into-grappling.html

Some things in there don’t matter to me. Women instructors and all women classes. Yeah. Whatever. I like a co-ed environment. I don’t even mind if the place I’m training seems like a matted cave or dungeon.

One thing stuck out for me:

“However, don’t assume that two women are a good match just because they’re women. At 110-odd pounds, I’ve been partnered with a 200-lb woman, just because we were the only chicks in the class. Probably it’d have been better to put me with the 140-lb guy and her with the 180-lb guy.”

I just wanted to run up to the author, shake her, and say, “So I’m not the only one who’s been in this position!?”

There was a period where this was frequently happening to me. I’m more like 150 than 110, but I think the woman I kept being paired up with was considerably more than 200. I felt bad, not being able to put her in my guard because of her girth versus my leg length, but I kept wondering if she felt even worse about the whole thing.

Maybe people of higher belt rank can deal with something like extreme weight differences in training partners, but this was happening when I was a brand-new no-stripes white belt and I think she had three stripes at the time.

There was no tactful way to bring it up to the instructor and no inoffensive way I could think to talk about it with my training partner. Looking back, it’s not something I should have ever been put into the position to need to address.

Keep in mind that had there just been not many people in class and literally the only person there was for me to pair up with was a mismatch, that’s a very different story and it happens. Where I currently train there is a mix of belt levels and sizes. I often train with guys bigger than me. It’s not a big deal.

The big deal is making the mismatched ‘chicks’ train together just because they’re ‘chicks’. There was more than one guy there around my weight I could have trained with and bigger guys she could have trained with. We were ONLY matched because we were both female, and put together in spite of us not being matched in size or even skill level (she was high white, me low white).

When you put together two people to roll who aren’t matched physically AND they’re both beginners, I think that can be pretty dangerous. Beginners don’t know subtleties of shifting weight slightly, training hard by using good technique and not muscle, when to tap, how to just make the person tap and not cry out in pain, or what slight differences in a move can make it likely to break someone’s wrist. Even drilling can be dangerous in this situation.

I remember a class full of particularly bad knee-on-belly instances. The reaction I got when trying to talk to my training partner about the fact I was being hurt were comments along the lines of ‘It’s not my fault’, ‘I’m not doing this on purpose’, and ‘Suck it up’.

My current coach is very careful about keeping an eye on safety. He lets us pair up, but if he doesn’t like the matches for whatever reason (safety or not), he’ll change them. If people are mismatched, he’ll make sure it’s still safe by telling the more experienced person to work on something specific or not to do certain things. If he sees someone not being safe, he’ll do whatever he thinks needs to be done to stop it. You might get told to do push ups if you know better. You’ll get a demonstration and explanation if you just didn’t realize you were practicing a technique incorrectly. He reminds those of us who are smaller and less experienced to only pair up with people we feel comfortable with, so I’ve never feel pressured to go with someone I didn’t.

I’m a proud person and it can be hard hearing him tell someone to ‘go easy’ with me sometimes. The smart part of me realizes that it has nothing to do with how tough or how much heart I have, he just wants to make sure we all can continue to train and will want to continue to train. If you get hurt or feel unsafe or frustrated, that’s not going to happen.

Let’s use an example. A guy in class has nasty headlock submissions that he can put on and crank at the blink of an eye. Pair that guy up with someone other than a guy who has amazing headlock escapes. You might have someone who’s neck is stiff for the next week (or worse) and feels very frustrated. You also have someone who isn’t learning anything, just doing the same moves that work for them at full force over and over. Fixing this isn’t just safe training, it’s smart training. The guy cranking on headlocks over and over needs to learn control. You can put a headlock on and then finish it with the minimal amount of pressure to make the person tap. He probably also should work on some other techniques so it’s not the only move he can use when it comes to competition or real life.

Jiu-jitsu is the gentle art. A perfectly executed move is done with minimal effort and exertion by the person doing it. Their technique is so dead on that they do not need to over-exert themselves. If they need to crank, pull, and muscle their way through a move, then their technique is less than perfect and they’re making up for it with size and strength. Sometimes I’m thankful that I’m not super athletic and strong. Since I can’t muscle and force my way through a move, I’m forced to learn the technique correctly or not get results.

The purpose of classes is not to win, it’s to learn. The only person you can lose is against yourself, and that happens if you’re not learning and improving.

If you’re in an environment where people are being matched with training partners that aren’t good for them, it can be very hard to learn and improve. Even of you think gender makes a difference when rolling, you have to concede that there are certainly factors that matter much more when being paired up. If it’s your only consideration when pairing up, then you might consider not taking classes (or teaching if you’re a coach) in a coed environment.

Done Training

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Sometimes when I’m done training, I feel like a bobble head,

during a training, a sloth versus monkey.

The fish out of water, the kid in the corner,

the under dog, too old for new tricks, stolen thunder,

two seconds too late, over thinking what should calm contemplate,

the beginners mistakes, lessons sticking and slipping away.

Some things I enjoy, I have a natural talent in.

Some, I lag behind in.

On rare occasion, I have to remind myself I do it for the fun,

train for the challenge,

compete with myself no matter who is on the mat with me.

Colorblind to the belt, immune to the envy,

sometimes a single sweep a victory,

or just the heart I have to try and be here.

Sometimes when I’m done training, I feel like a better me,

who is never done training.

Beautiful Bruises

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WARNING: This post contains a woman’s yearly checkup, mentions of birth control, and shaving. While no graphic details are provided, those who use the letters “TMI” frequently might want to browse away. Oh, and I farted while writing this! :D


It’s getting to be close to that time where I have to make a doctors appointment to have my yearly checkup. If I don’t go, they’ll stop giving me my birth control prescription which will make me sick, sick, sick on a monthly basis. I’m a pretty healthy young woman who works out, doesn’t eat too much crap, doesn’t smoke, etc., so this should be a walk in the park, right?

Unfortunately, that’s not how my appointment last year went. I ended up not having an appointment with my regular doctor since I didn’t want to take a whole day off of work (everything in the morning was booked).

A little more than a month before my appointment is when I started training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Big surprise, I had more than a few bruises. This happened when I used to play paintball too. I didn’t think much of it before the appointment.

What I’m used to when I go to the doctor is they ask all about how you’re doing with big smiles and what’s going on in your life. They weigh you and listen to your heart. The uncomfortable parts are the down-there-doctoring they have to do, not the social part.

That appointment was awkward all around. I was asked a little about how things were going and I mentioned my new martial arts training which I was very excited about. I was already used to the, “What’s that? Like karate?” reaction, but I didn’t expect the disgust when I explained what it was. This woman might as well have told me to get in the kitchen and find a husband already with the looks she gave me and how little she wanted to hear about it. I don’t know if it was because it sounded scary, manly, or I told her that yes, I train with both men and women, etc. I also didn’t care. This was my doctors appointment. I didn’t expect to be judged on my choice of preferred sports.

Once the actual exam began, so did the questions about my bruises. I’ve already explained that I participate in a full contact grappling martial art, but apparently she was still surprised and confused as to why I had bruises. I reiterated what Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was and even tried explaining what we’d been working on. I had a good idea of what moves some of the bruises were from. She went from disgust to not believing me. Apparently, if a woman has bruises, she’s being abused by someone and lying about it.

I mentioned that I could prove that I did the martial art if she cared. My membership card is on my key chain. She didn’t care. She didn’t even want to discuss it. She just went on to examine every single bruise and scribble on her notepad. I asked what she was doing, I was told she was ‘documenting’.

She was especially interested in a bruise I had on my chest. That was the obvious clincher someone was abusing me apparently. As I originally typed this, I had a bruise on my chest. No, I don’t know exactly how I got it. It could have been from someone putting on a tight near side armbar on me, with their legs tightly pressed down. It could have been from a too high knee on belly. It could have been from me trying to break someone posture when they were in my guard and them falling and pushing off of me with a hand, elbow, head, whatever. There are a lot of scenarios I can think of. I don’t know how it got there. It’s a bruise the size of a coin. Who cares?

I can’t imagine what women who are being abused go through when they go to the doctor. This woman was not being friendly, warm, or comforting. She came off as accusatory. I am aware that people who are abused in any way, shape, or form usually already think it’s somehow their own fault. With the amount of disgust she was giving off from the beginning, no woman would have felt comfortable admitting anything to her anyways.

I was disgusted and offended on all of those levels. I felt for every woman athlete and every abused woman. I came into the doctors expecting to have the first appointment without the vague questions about, “Well, are you happy with your weight?” since I was working out harder than I ever had in my entire life.

After we moved beyond the bruises, I was asked about my sex life. I am prescribed birth control, so okay, makes sense. I mentioned I was starting to see someone at that point which may or may not turn into something. Once again, no happy comments for me for something I thought was a good thing. I expected a ‘congrats’ or ‘good for you’. What I got was a lecture about condom usage and STDs. I’m sure my little file there said that I’d been on birth control since I was seventeen, not to mention my current age. If you don’t believe I use condoms, I can show you the ones I carry in my purse just in case… but then would she take that to mean I was promiscuous? I was done trying to win with this lady.

The ridiculousness reached a peak when I got a lecture about the razor burns on my bikini line. I have sensitive skin and have tried a lot of things not to get razor burn there and under my arms when shaving. The only thing I’ve found that works 100% is: not shaving. In this case, I’d shaved fairly recently which I’d think any doctor might be thankful for, but no… I was quizzed about why I was shaving so much down there. I just looked at her. Then was told to “be careful” and that I could give myself an infection, etc. I didn’t even get any good tips on how to prevent razor burn. So, thanks for nothing. I’ll just continue to use the shaving gel that claims it’s “Bumps Free!!” and Neosporin afterwards when I do shave…

So, this was a few months shy of a year ago. Since then I’ve been proud of every single bruise I’ve had. To me, it means I’m tough stuff. It’s a symbol that I’m working hard, that I’m not afraid, and that I am training with tough people who aren’t afraid to work hard with me. I’ve never had any injury from Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that has been doctor-worthy. I don’t usually notice any new bruises until I take a shower later or someone points them out. I actually bruise less and less as time goes on. I think my body is just becoming tougher stuff, because I’ve done the opposite of slowing down.

If this is the reaction I get to some tiny bruises on my body, I can’t wait for a black eye. Bring it on. It’s sad that it doesn’t occur to me to be worried about injuries except with knowing the sexism I’ll have to deal with.

I’ll deal with pride and humor. Maybe I’ll make some Fight Club reference. I’m sure I’ll wear my smile and Gracie Barra t-shirt as accessories. I’m a real kind of woman, the kind that identifies as person first, then a woman. That makes some people uncomfortable. I don’t mind, but I still don’t want to have to deal with their discomfort. Stand aside. I have goals to achieve and fun to have. Guess what? I’ve run all out of bubble gum, and you know what that means…

I like playing Katamari Damacy, but I prefer to roll around in real life. From the mats, with love, me.

Doing What You Do

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When I say I used to do a lot of things I don’t anymore, it’s not an indication of my current commitment to anything I do from day to day. I’ve tried a lot of things over the years, learned about myself through them, and re prioritized as things have become more or less important to me. When I was my little brother’s age, I was playing, and just about quitting, softball. That pre-teen age is that age where we depart from our childhood hobbies in search of something else. We want our own identity rather than the activities inherited by the whims of our parents. That identity quest doesn’t stop at the next line of choices. Rather, it never stops. There are things I started doing at that age and continue to do until this day: writing poetry, keeping journal/sketchbooks, listening to lots of music… And then there are those things I tried and didn’t take. There are also those things that were me in that moment. There were those things that have become less important in place of others over time but still hold some place for me.

Lately, gaming hasn’t really been my thing. I fire up the emulators with classic games from time to time. I play the Wii in groups of the right people. In general, it has fallen by the wayside. I find myself saying more and more, “Oh, my little brother plays that,” rather than, “Oh, I beat that awhile ago.”

On the other hand, I’ve been training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu 2-4 times a week. I’m looking up videos online, reading about it, watching recordings of UFC fights and I just finished watching Season 5 of The Ultimate Fighter. I’ll be cooking or working on art during the drama-and-fighters-going-blah parts, but when the referee says, “Let’s get it on!” my attention is focused. I might yell at the screen as if it’s live and not a recording. I might refer to that arm triangle as “Beautiful”.

I notice myself talking excitedly to people who have no idea what one martial art is in relation to another. I’ve started referring to it when the subject matter is something else entirely. I do this with gaming too. Yes, I still make those references too.

When cuddling, I may actually be thinking of how I’d roll out of the position or how I could do a kimura from here.

I don’t know that I’m ever going to be great at this, but I just love it. I don’t care if most of the people I roll with are better than me, bigger than me, or are likely to submit me. When someone asks me why I do jiu-jitsu or just makes some assumption, the answer is simpler than you think. I’ve found something I’m passionate about. There are great side effects, but even if they weren’t there, I’d still be rolling around the mats like a katamari.