bjj

At this time last year I was REALLY into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I talked about it incessantly and read about it online at work. I ordered highlight DVDs and practiced in my head while I fell asleep. I was training three times a week, often staying after class for an hour to spar, and proudly wore my assorted scars. Everyone I know thought I had lost my mind. My friends and family would nod slowly while listening to me talk about my new passion, in the same manner one might respond to a kid too old to still believe in Santa Claus. At one point Julia asked me if I was considering doing “this” professionally. I wasn't. I mean, not really.

In September I fought in my first tournament. I had lost ten pounds in a week to make a lower weight class, which involved getting up early on the day of the tournament and running in 80-degree heat wearing two sweat-suits. With my brother as corner-man I won my first six matches – five by submission (that's me triangle-choking someone in the photo above). I choked someone unconscious and won an epic battle with a seventeen year-old. I lost in the finals via flying arm-bar (which resulted in a hyper-extended elbow) to a guy who only had to fight three times.

I shamelessly wore my medal in public for days after the tournament, hobbling on my mat-burned feet while cradling my wounded arm. The injury knocked me out of training for four months and required extensive physical therapy and multiple visits to a variety of doctors. By the time I could start training again all my white-belt friends had received their blue-belts and I had gained almost twenty pounds.

I’ve had a hard time training consistently since then due to assorted injuries and illnesses, school and vacation, but I’m looking forward to getting back in the groove over the summer – as a method of exercise and supplemental life-activity, that is. I think I’m over the whole obsession thing. What's nice about having an early mid-life crisis is that you can actually accomplish something.