“So this is how I die.”

Forest green plastic covered the small room’s floor and halfway up the walls. I lay on my back. On me sat a small man wearing a full body mauve rash guard.

“Isn’t this precisely the sort of situation I’m trying to avoid?” I thought to myself.

The door opened behind me. “Oh, good, I’m saved!” I thought, only to see a rotund middle-aged man enter, paying me no attention as he walked on by.

“My situation has not improved,” I thought. Nor was it likely to get any better when a third man entered, built the same as the first, who also ignored me.

Soon the two of them were on the floor nearby, grappling with one another, as the man on top of me gave me instructions on how to remove him.

Thus began my first Jiu Jitsu lesson.

When I made the appointment, I was told I’d be given a loaner gi. Instead, I wore my own. When I arrived, the instructor asked why I already have a gi. I explained that I take Taekwondo, so he, of course, asked why I also wanted to take Jiu Jitsu.

The correct answer was: “Because I’m a weak defenseless female who needs to protect herself from strong, powerful men,” but I thought, “Nah.” Instead I said, “To be a bad a$s, basically.”

Without flinching, he nodded and said, “Cool. Let’s get started.”

Next came the weirdest few minutes of my life. After instructing me to get on my back, he said, “Is it okay for me to get on you?” At least he asked, and since Jiu Jitsu is basically high-octane wrestling, this is what I signed up for.

My instructor showed me the basic moves for throwing someone off. “Now you try,” he said.

“I don’t want to do it right now when you’re expecting it,” I said. “I want to try to take you unaware.”

“Well, your attacker isn’t going to–“

Flumph!

I flipped him off mid-sentence.

He chuckled. “Nice job.”

Soon a fourth student arrived to complete the class. That meant 100-pound me, two larger gentlemen, and now someone who could best be described as “Surfer Dude”: a tall, skinny, twenty-something complete with long, straggly blonde hair. Thankfully, the instructor paired me with this guy.

I learned some neat new take-down and pinning skills, though I admit I was a little slow on the uptake. Being able to throw Surfer Dude down was exhilarating. When class was over, he fist-bumped me and said, “Good job.” One of the larger men also fist-bumped me on his way out.

And because every post needs a pic or two, one thing I did in preparation for this class was change out my earrings. No earrings would be preferable, but, given their placement, complete removal wasn’t an option. Thus, instead of my usual pokey-backed diamond studs, I’m now sporting less painful when pressed against the side of my head (though still a bit painful as I soon found out), gold hoops.

Before: diamond studs with sharp, pokey backs (believe me).

After: gold hoops with slightly less pokey backs.

So, what do you think? Am I an idiot? Probably. But it all worked out okay. Or, if you would prefer to sidestep that issue, which earrings do you like better? 🙂

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