“A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.” -Shakespeare
I'm locked in mortal combat with a man younger, stronger, and faster than I. We are rolling on the ground each trying to gain advantage on the other, grasping for a wrist or shirt collar. In the scramble he climbs on my back, throwing his arms around my neck and under my armpit, getting a secure grip that I can't peel off. He pulls me back into a cradled position and reaches his right arm across my chin, anchoring it with a grip on my left shoulder. He slips his other arm out from under my armpit and tightens the grip further. My jaw aches as I resist his grip slipping down across my neck. He squeezes harder, starting to cut off blood to my brain while crushing my jaw backwards. My hearing starts to warp, as if I'm inside a large dome and colors start creeping up my vision. This is my fifteenth death of the day. I pat him on the arm twice and he releases the squeeze. "Phew! Nice job," I say as I catch my breath and get ready to go again. Shakespeare should have practiced Brazilian jiu jitsu.
Brazilian jiu jitsu is a submission grappling martial art that by tradition keeps the distance between learning technique and applying that technique as small as possible. I have trained at a few schools in the San Francisco Bay Area and classes are almost uniformly structured at 15-20 minutes of warm up, 20-30 minutes of technique/drilling, then sparring until everyone's tired (and then maybe 2 more rounds). This is live sparring with most people pushing at near-tournament-level output trying to strangle or cripple a limb of their opponent's while that opponent tries to do the same in kind. This works because grappling submissions aren't typically explosive and surprising (or involve head trauma) like striking martial arts so each person can fully engage and fully resist the other person without fear of injury. Anecdotally most injuries sustained are because even in sparring it's tempting not to give up or "tap out" even when a submission hold is being applied because it feels like with a couple more teeth-gritting seconds you could escape. I know for certain that I have allowed my elbows and wrists to be hyperextended a time or two.
I am not an athletic person. I had a very unhelpful metaphor for my body as a meat vehicle for my brain until I was in my late twenties. I have no background in wrestling or really any sports to speak of. I already mentioned that I did a some Kung Fu and when I was much younger I did karate as many kids do so I wasn't completely graceless; just not strong, agile, or flexible. I came to BJJ as a self-commitment that I take up something that is definitely going to push me out of my comfort zone and not repeat my dissonant experience with Kung Fu sparring. Oh and I don't mind losing a lot.
Beginning to train Brazilian jiu jitsu with no prior background would be like the creatures of Narnia coming into our world where animals can not speak and magic has no power. The confusion is really incommunicable. During my first several times wrestling I just had no idea what was happening. If my partner was courteous enough to let me just improvise, I would routinely get into dead end positions. I would literally think, "Okay... I don't know where to go from here but it seemed really important to get here. I'll just try to turn arou- Oh god they're choking me!" I lost spectacularly for months before ever getting a submission on someone who wasn't allowing me to. And this is normal. People shockingly overestimate what vigorous activity will get them against trained opponents. Months passed and I just felt like I was getting worse and worse. I could "survive" matches without being submitted but couldn't go on offense. And then a few new students started.
Typically new students aren't paired together but I was put with a new person for whatever reason and... the tables had turned. I was seeing in their eyes the thoughts that I had had in that same position a few months prior. I could even go through the steps to execute some attacks I had learned. They were stronger and more energetic than I was so the first couple attempts they just thwarted with raw strength, but that third choke attempt worked! They clearly knew it was Not Good™ for me to get my hands locked in their kimono (shirt) collar but they didn't really know what to do about it. And their face turned beet red, then purple, then they tapped. I didn't get another opportunity to submit someone for another few months but I had tasted victory for a moment. I now knew beyond doubt that I was better than when I started. I had reason to hope that if I had come this far I could go even further. Years have passed since then (4ish) and I still lose a lot. I'm still not athletic and not very strong so my peers-by-experience-level are much better than me at sparring which is okay with me. It's very easy to look up to your betters and get frustrated that you can't seem to catch them, but I get plenty of opportunity to wrestle with newer people and experience how far I have come.
This mix of humbling defeat and dynamic competition leads to some excellent side effects. To persist, one has to be okay losing a lot. This is a very natural way to curb egos. Unless the school is in a degenerate state, there is no undisputed top dog. Everyone I have met who has spent a lot of time getting crushed just isn't as prone to obnoxious arrogance. Moreover, whoever you are outside the context of a match is meaningless. There's a great mix of people that I have trained with and any match can be competitive even with gross size differences and sex differences. Skill and timing can truly trump physical superiority as I have experienced many many times. This emphasis on skill and responding correctly to cues from an opponent can lead to near-obsessive study of the sport and then trying to get feedback by trying it yourself. It's one of the few sports for which I can watch youtube videos and then try to actually apply it in my training. We can all be like professional athletes, watching tape and picking up tactical cues or strategies to integrate into our game. This mental engagement makes BJJ so fun that I routinely curse my feeble body for giving up after only an hour and a half of hard training.
All that said, it's not for everyone. Honestly, you have to love suffering or at least be suffering-curious. The scenario I described in the beginning has happened many times but the pain and discomfort ratchets up big time depending on the strategy of the opponent and how good you are and staying out of bad positions and since everyone starts out being bad, you get smushed a lot. If you don't like the idea of other people getting their sweat on you or scrapes or skin to skin contact, it's not for you. Given all that, I say that I have died a thousand times and am no coward - a coward wouldn't willingly go through all that pain and discomfort. That takes courage. Though suddenly I'm reminded of another quote, "The line between courage and stupidity is so thin that you don't know you've crossed it until you're dead." Huh. I'll have to think about that.
