Everyone's path through jiu-jitsu, or any martial art, is unique to that individual. While competition is a great way to learn and understand your strengths and weaknesses, it's not for everyone. This doesn't mean you can't become great at jiu-jistu without it. Only a small percentage of my teammates compete on a regular or even semi-regular basis. When you consider the turnover rate at most jiu-jitsu gyms, only a very tiny of fraction of people who put on the gi ever step on a tournament mat.
I'd like to give you some reasons why you should give it a try though. Even if you show up and lose all of your matches, it's impossible not to walk away with a great deal of experience and wisdom. One of the old-school Gracies, I forget which, probably Rickson, once said that competing in a tournament is like taking 20 classes. It is very hard to duplicate the level of intensity you get from it and you always walk away with a deeper understanding of your game. There are few gauges as accurate as competition to mark your progress.
While I haven't competed since April, I had the privilege of working a tournament over the weekend. If you're hip to the tournament scene, you might be able to tell which organization it was by their great looking medals.
I was stuck on door duty, since you need to be at least a purple belt to referee a match, but they still pay pretty well.
Anyway, this was a round robin format tournament, meaning that in a 5 or more person bracket, you'll get at least four matches, whether you win or lose. Some tournaments are single elimination, which really sucks if you lose your first match. If you're thinking about competing for the first time, this is the format you want to find. That's exactly what my friend John did.
John is pretty fresh to the jiu-jitsu world. He only has one stripe on his white belt, which typically means he's been training for less than six months, but he was anxious to compete. I, on the other hand, waited until almost a year and a half before daring to step on the mats. We'd been helping him all week leading up to the tournament, but he kept expressing how nervous he was. Some of the killers at my gym did their best to quell his fears but right up until his first match he was a bit shaky. This is normal. When harnessed correctly though, fear can be a tremendous motivator.
Unfortunately, John fell victim to the usual trappings of first time jitters. He forgot to breathe and he tired out his grips almost immediately. These are common pitfalls early on. I only had a few moments to turn around and catch his matches, and from what I saw, he put up a good fight. However, he ended up losing all four of his matches, two by Americana submission, and two by points. Despite being down on himself, our other teammates and I kept telling him how proud we were of him. He admitted having fun, but kept going on about the ass whooping he received. I told him, you didn't get your ass whooped, you got an ass load of experience. After getting all that support, it was pretty clear that he's going to compete again.
So, why am I telling you this?
Because you won't ever know until you try. This is true not just in jiu-jitsu, but in life. Testing yourself and challenging yourself leads to improving yourself. Stagnation is your biggest enemy, and if you don't allow yourself the necessary room to grow, you'll start that downward slide into complacency. That is why jiu-jistu is so great, because you will NEVER stop learning.
I consider myself exceedingly blessed to be part of a gym that has such supportive teammates and instructors, whether you decide to compete or not. Not all gyms are like that. There's an awful lot of love on our mats full of people trying to strangle each other. My hope is that if you're reading this, you have or can find that same kind of support, whether it be in martial arts or other exciting ventures.
Happy Rolling.
Oss!
