Jiu-Jitsu is hard, and totally worth it

Location: Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan 

During the last year, many have trained less than they would have liked or not at all. In these uncertain times, I’ve painfully watched countless gyms shut down. Some, forever.

There has been a lot of time to reflect, and in this game of levers and locks, I have realized there is so much that I took for granted. I’d give anything to have what we had back, the big classes, mats packed with smiling faces, the annoying warmups, getting crushed by bigger teammates, physical exercise to the point of exhaustion, and waking up the next morning feeling like my body got hit by a truck. I want it all back, desperately.

Lately, with fewer people on the mats, there are smaller classes and more one-on-one battles. There are benefits to that, but there is something special about the big energy vibe that comes with the mats packed, lights bright, and a scene set for hours of learning and training together. That intensity is propelled throughout the room as we all mix together like a delightful soup – minds, wits, and skillsets simmering, with dashes of diversity and differences. Yet, wonderfully balanced.

We train together, evolve together, elevate each other, encourage each other, and hold each other accountable. We crush each other, unavoidably inhaling the very essence of a person as we are mashed under their pressure like a hot potato.

So sweaty, SO HOT, so much pressure.

If you’ve ever taken any time off of Jiu-Jitsu, even a week or two, you know the feeling of getting onto those mats again after a dry spell. Warmups just started, but you can feel every cookie, every turkey dinner, every pumpkin pie. Your toes need to get used to bending and pushing; your fingers must re-cripple back into their taped-up Jiu-Jitsu form. Your body remembers what it’s like getting tapped 1000 times and still getting up for more. As you get back into rolling again, you remember how long a white belt minute is—an exhausting eternity.

And I’ll suffer forever if it means we can have it all back.
Give me a room packed full of training partners, a million or more shrimps, the biggest heavyweight on the mats, back-to-back-to-back sparring rounds, and legs covered in bruises that can hardly walk downstairs in the morning. PLEASE.

I promise I won’t complain.