My coach was awarded his black belt this past week. It was incredibly joyous and was a real high point in not only his journey, which has been marked by numerous peaks and valleys along the way, but also our journey as his students and teammates. For the last two years, I have been rooting for this man to get his well-deserved promotion. Not because we needed it for the gym (though having a black belt at the helm will undoubtedly attract the uninitiated), but because we have seen him work so hard towards this goal - opening a new gym with fumes in his financial gas tank, overcoming family strife to balance parenting duties with two jobs (one of which is being a full-time police officer), spending more time with the BJJ familia than his real familia, pushing through numerous IBJJF tournaments to medal despite torn knees and arms. I cannot remember the last time I was so invested in the well-being and success of someone other than me or my family.
So when Sensei Saulo Ribeiro tied that black belt around his waist, I felt strangely underwhelmed by the moment. I wanted pyrotechnics, confetti and t-shirt cannons. Instead, we all applauded, hugged our coach and gathered at a very generous teammate's house for drinks and food. Don't get me wrong -- all of that is fantastic and I'm sure he was emotionally moved. But somehow, the product didn't match the process. I know, I know - it's not supposed to. I work in theatre and that's certainly true -- sometimes, you can have a most amazing experience rehearsing a show, grow in all sorts of ways, meet your future spouse during the course of it and then opening night comes and your show is a hot mess (or vice versa). So I have always known that the journey will always outweigh the destination. But, but, but... oh, well, no t-shirt cannons.
Sensei Saulo prefaced the promotion with the quote, "a black belt is a white belt that never gave up." I have been chewing on that ever since. I started reflecting on my own goals in this whole jiu jitsu thing. Was it to become a black belt? Was it to become a fighter, capable of defending himself and those he loves? Was it to lose weight and get a chiseled bod? I walked away that evening with only one concrete goal: to never quit. And once I clarified that, I felt electric and free. Because never quitting is not a destination, is it? It's on-going. And it's measurable. If I've been off the mats for more than a week and I'm no longer thinking about what I'm putting in my body, I'm failing at my goal. And on the flipside, if I don't compete ever again, but I'm on those mats three to four times a week consistently for the next five years, I'm on track to achieving my goal.
"Does that mean that getting better is not a goal?"
Well, yeah. But that's a mini-goal. It's the daily, weekly, monthly, annual goal that will keep me motivated to stay on those mats. That's the mini-goal that will encourage me to cross-train, building up my cardio and strength, while rolling with the toughest teammates, keeping me focused, pushing me out of my comfort zone and revealing areas in need of improvement.
"Does that mean winning is not a goal?"
Define that. If it means having my hand raised at the end of a competition match, no. If it means not staying on bottom throughout a class, escaping and maintaining top position, scrambling to better positions to establish control and submit my opponents, YES. Trust me, if I enter into a competition again, I want to win. But that's the goal of that day, of that moment. But competition itself is just a small part of the overall journey for me.
"Does that mean promotion is not a goal?"
To be honest, not really. I hope that in the next fifteen years, I'll earn my black belt (have I already mentioned my love for t-shirt cannons), but I'm not focused on that. While I'm filled with immense pride when I get a stripe or a belt and enough reason for celebratory beers with the team (to be honest, it doesn't take much), it's not something I focus on. That said, I think promotion is a great motivator to stay at it. Knowing your coach has taken notice in your growth and improvement is very fulfilling. In fact, not getting a stripe or belt is a great motivator. It tells me that something in my game is not up to snuff. It means I've got areas (PLURAL) to improve upon and better get to it.
"So what does it really mean to never quit?"
Prior to training in jiu jitsu, I was overweight and suffered from gout, my ankles swelling up to the size of softballs every other month and forcing me to walk with a cane. The fact that I can run more than a mile without stopping, that I can practice ankle locks without wincing and maintain a regular training schedule is a big win for me. That I'm about to turn 40 and I'm in the best shape of my life... To that end, if I am still breathing, if I can still afford it, if I am within 20 miles of a gym, if my heart is still beating and my bones are still intact, even if I'm a ten stripe blue belt, I am going to be rolling.
Oss.
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