Measure for improvement

When BJJ is the simplest thing in your life, you ain't doin' something right! That being said, a new phenomena is taking place in my training which indicates that ever elusive and vaguely quantifiable rubric known as progress: I'm catching newbies in triangles. Yes, me with the stocky, muscular legs of a full-back fused to the body of a disney-fied fairy is catching dudes in triangles. I'm not hitting them on experienced guys--I never seem to hit much of anything on them--but it's a start.

Also, the brown belt taught me how to do a flying armbar, but more importantly, he showed me a way to SET-UP the flying armbar with the awesome power of deception.

So yeah, my personal life is a mess, and my professional life looks like the innards of a jelly fish, but my BJJ is goin' places.

Now if I could just clone myself and alter time I'd be set!

Practice

Lately, I've felt impervious, I mean my ego has been impervious, to the tap-outs and the fuck ups and the overwhelming weight and strength and speed of my contemporaries, just another day at the office. This isn't to say I've burned out or don't care anymore, far from it, I'm handling defeat better. I haven't needed to feed off little victories the way I used to. They are still there, a slow improvement in movement,near competency with a couple of sweeps (basic, kimora), and a sense of...flow is beginning to emerge. Now if we had a true technique class I think it would emerge faster, but hey, I'm making the best of what I've got.

Off to JKD soon.

The Alien Language

College boy noted my wrestling was improving. I thanked him for taking the time to show the class a few moves.

I called it

Not just any ole run of the mill gauntlet, we did a take down gauntlet in the mode of wrestling. (before we worked on a few wrestling centric skills, something we should do more of, truthfully).

The gauntlet was unbridled ugliness. Neophytes at the mercy of college and high school wrestlers, or worse, other neophytes. I f'd-up my left big toe, broke the blood vessel under the nail, while birthing two nasty blisters. Now my left foot and both wrists are a collage of adhesive band-aids and tape. I'm Ultimate Mummy, the hip new minimalist design debuting in Marverl Comics very soon (the bandages I wear are merely a metaphor for the bandages....on my heart!!)

I don't think I hit a clean wrestling take down, but once I rocked a guy with a judo shoulder throw, everyone new exactly what to watch for.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I hit a judo throw in a no-gui environment. It took me a while to figure out what to go for, as my hip toss attempts were atrocious, and my double legs looked liked a one winged swan dive. I couldn't find the space or the proper set-up, but once I recognized the "insert shoulder throw here stance" I scored my little victory of the day.

My heart rate hasn't been that high in a long time, and good lord I am sore.

For one night, King of the White Belts?

We ran the gauntlet last night in bjj. Two groups split by age. I'm sure I've mentioned how the gauntlet works before, buuuuuuutttt just in case:

one man in the center, everyone else circles around. He goes 1 or 2 minutes with each person. Then a new guy steps in, wash, rinse, repeat.

This particular gauntlet was 2 minute rounds. Center guy starts from a mounted position. In other words, he is underneath the mount. It was hard to judge round lengths because we added a rule about switching guys if there was a tap, so each guy spent approximately 8 min inside, and 8 min outside, give or take an extra roll or two. I managed to submit all the other white belts at least once. And only got submitted by College Boy, Mr. Brown (as in brown belt), and a very strong teen who caught me in an armbar (need to be wiser in my choice of escape tactics for armbar).

I was tired, but it felt good scoring some wins, and not having my ass kicked EVERY SINGLE TIME I rolled.

Last night in BJJ, lots of good things

The brown belt is some kind of dream. Postive reinforcement? Never been used to it, but learning to love it. Thought my movement was good, called me "wirey" (don't you have to be lanky to be wirey?) I executed a side control escape I learned last week--it's a good one, useful for straight grappling, MMA, amd street fighting. Uses an over/under gable grip. Also showed me how to be more mobile from guard, must be willing to not merely go off the line, but assume a shrimp like position.

If he has financial trouble, I'd be willing to throw down some of my own cash to keep him around.

Meanwhile, Girlfriend and I...

Spent the holidays playing Super Smash Bros on the Wii. A game that is merely a series of locks and keys: complete a task open a door to a new task, complete that task, open a door to a new task etc. All cleverly disguised as one of the loopiest fighting games I've ever played. (A Giant Nintendog popped out of nowhere covering a third of the screen, our characters were completely obscured).

Our relationship continues to survive despite all laws of physics and advice columns. I love her; she loves me, but given everything that's happened, you'd think that wouldn't be enough, that we'd need a Deus Ex Machina or at least a giant monster...or terrorists holding a tower of people hostage to keep this relationship going, yet we continue to subsist on monthly visits and the Wii. (Although there is an argument to be made for the Wii as Deus Ex Machina). I'm still fearful that it will all end suddenly--sudden in it's long flailing slowness--but I have to marvel at our resilience. This is the worst and best part of my life.

Where Tigr stops whining, abruptly, and meditates on victories.

There should be forward motion in our life together, not inertia. We should be making plans to move in together again. Why aren’t we? Isn’t that the very first thing we should have done? Mariann still doesn’t have her thesis done. When will she defend, December? I’ve got work as an adjunct, but Jesus, I don’t want to a full time position at Backwater Tech, I want an MFA, I want to be writing, I want a degree that will give me more versatility in the leaning tower of ivory.

God, enough with the "shoulds" and the "why nots", and "I wants" my life is not at it's nadir. This isn't heroine sheik(sp?), this isn't a Greek Tragedy, or a Morality Play. On occasion, it may be something out of Satan Says, but those moments are brief, with the lifespan of a single firework; you see that red splash before you've heard the booming shriek.

Let’s not downplay the obvious victories here. One, we won. Doesn’t matter if there wasn’t a verdict, the defendants paid out six figures. Two, hello, we got a six figure settlement! We can lay down the foundation for a spiffy retirement plan. Three, our sex life is workin’ just fine thank you very much. Oddly enough, under all the pressure and strife, our sex life has improved. Four, we beat Super Mario Galaxy two days after the verdict. Yeah I know, talk about a little victory, but we did it together and it felt good, even if the substance of the thing itself is imaginary. Stoppin’ on koopas is fun. (Where were the Hammer Bros. in this installment?) Five, as far as PSTD goes, I think the worst is over for G (I hope). Six, I keep getting’ my ass whipped, but somehow I’m improving in bjj and judo and JKD.

Seven, I will be going to a four day Machado seminar in October providing me with intensive training so that I will improve even more (I think I can get that damn blue belt in under two years). Eight, I’m still writing on this here blog. Nine, I’m still writing poetry and prose. I’m on to something here. I think the superhero inflections of the poetry is slowly shaping into a shrewd cycle at worse and at best a book length collection at best. Nine, I’m living in exciting times for comic books films (and comic books in general) hell, whether I like it or not, I’m living in exciting times (ancient curse/blessing). And ten, that’s right ten, my overall level of conditioning keeps going up.

That’s how it’s done. That’s how you put the focus on the positive. It doesn’t kill the negative, but it puts everything in perspective. When I make alterations to my diet—and I use the term to mean a long term lifestyle choice not a temporary fix’er up’er—I focus on what I want in it, rather than what I take away. I need lots of lean protein, fats, fruit, and water, so I focus on consuming those rather than obsessing over not having pizza (hmm, so there is a context in which I DON’T obsess about things). I need to maintain the same outlook with the rest of my life. I cannot allow myself to navel gaze at the scars and traumas, that (to a certain extent) is what the poetry is for.