Tag Archives: martial arts gi

Watching the sunrise through the Jiu-Jitsu window

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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The universe can suck it!


Monday was a great day. For starters, guess who joined me for class?

Neighbor and me on our way to Jiu-Jitsu.

Here’s how this went down. As you can see, I really had to twist her arm. (Kimura arm lock or Americana–still not a kind of coffee)

She responded before I could even hit the home button on my phone. It’s like she was staring at her phone, waiting for me to text.

I don’t know if you love it, per se, but hopefully you’re getting a minor kick out of it. (front, side, or round kick, appropriate for the Taekwondo gi)

When we rolled into Jiu-Jitsu class (that was also a pun), Instructor started to pull out a gi, but stopped.

“I see you have a gi. Do you do martial–Oh, is it Betsy’s?”

Heehee. Déjà vu.

Instructor had me sit nearby while he onboarded Neighbor. Thus, her first class experience was not nearly as creepy as mine. She took to it well and had fun but can’t sign up for anything until her home remodel is done in a couple of months. At least she got a taste. Maybe when her house is finished, I’ll invite her again and she’ll respond with an affirmative just as quickly. Here’s hoping!

But! Are you ready for this? Another guy poked his head in ten minutes late, explaining that he had arrived too early for his trial class so he got a haircut while he waited. I chuckled inwardly remembering what I’d written in my second JJ post: “Each time movement outside caught my eye, it was an old woman passing. I haven’t checked out the other businesses in the strip, but I’m guessing a hair salon is one of them.” It is. With a barbershop. Right next door.

Here’s the part I wanted you to ready yourselves for:

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What do I need to throw into a volcano?


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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My body hurts

My body hurts

“Adrian Brody” and I were the only Jiu Jitsu students one day, so we were partners by default. The dude barely touched me. Either I said something about not needing to take it so easy, or Instructor did, or both.

Adrian said, “I don’t want to hurt [infinitesimal pause] anyone.”

Clearly, “anyone” meant me. He wasn’t in danger of hurting the instructor. Reminder: Instructor is my size, though a smidge taller and with bigger biceps. At my first class, I was distracted by the realization that a man could have legs as skinny as mine.

Adrian is skinnier still.

So, Adrian was taking it easy on me, when maybe it should’ve been the other way around. *I* don’t hold back, however, because I’m a girl.

Wanna know who else doesn’t hold back? The teenage girl I naturally paired with during a rare evening class.

She. Trounced. Me.

Are you reading this, MOM?! That’s right–the men are nice to me. The female beat me up! [My mother gives me a hard time in the comments about training with men.]

Seriously, this girl may have bruised a rib. Or I pulled a muscle trying to get away from her. She’s not even a big girl, by any means, but this chic knows her stuff. I want to be like her when I grow… well, never mind.

The last portion of class was a “practice what you know”/ free for all. She was twisting me this and way that before I knew WHAT was happening. She ended with trapping my arm painfully out from my side.

“Whoa. What was that move?” I asked her.

“The Americana.”

“Isn’t that a type of coffee?” was my first thought, which I wisely kept to myself.

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