A Work in Progress: Reflecting on IBJJF DC Open Performance

Losing is never fun. But as far as losses go, this one was the easiest one to accept. I trained hard, I ate right and on the day of, I played my game to the best of my ability. And while my opponent's jiu jitsu bested mine, I succeeded in not defeating myself mentally which had previously been my downfall and something I came seriously close to in the weeks leading up to this match.

Yes, it is true what they say. You learn from your losses. Of course you do. I reviewed my match on my phone while waiting for my participation medal (because I received a bye, despite my loss, I would be given a bronze). I saw that I had a lot of distance to close if I wanted to go for a takedown and didn't know how to narrow that gap. I saw that despite a lot of switching back and forth, I couldn't make the toreando pass stick. I grimaced when I saw the opportunity to re-establish guard was wasted because I was married to half guard (my crutch). And I learned the hard way what happens when you try to turtle up but still can't prevent your opponent from taking your back. It's a lot to absorb and a lot to work on. And that's a tremendous takeaway that will focus my training for the next couple of years.

But I walked away from this experience with my head held a little higher than previous losses because I had grown from my previous self. Here I was, just days shy of 40, competing in jiu jitsu's major league - perhaps the last time I'd compete (I loathe competition and the work and anxiety that goes into it). When I walked into the pen to weigh in, I readily introduced myself to my opponent and made fast friends (we have connected on social media now and have discussed plans to drop in at his gym in the future). There was no effort to get into his head or disarm the situation, just authentic acknowledgement that we were both adults looking to put our skills to the test. When my weight checked in five pounds under the max for my division, I felt like a champ. I had done it right this time around. No spitting and dehydrating in the last couple of days. I started months earlier, adopting intermittent fasting while keeping a consistent training schedule. My energy was steady and I gained, instead of lost, muscle. On the mats, I drilled and rolled with more intention, increasing my time on the mats with each week and making sure to roll with the strongest, fastest and heaviest people on my team. I worked from the bottom and sought to stay on top when I could. And while I came up short, the effort I put in made my jiu jitsu better and I am a stronger, healthier person for it.

But the biggest reason I felt like a champ was that I had a whole crew in my corner. As I walked from the scales to the mat I was assigned, all these hands reached out over the barricade. First there were the small hands of my son (who also trains with me) and then my coach's sons. I adore them and it was apparent that they loved me, too. Then there was my wife who loathes these events (if nothing else because they smell like jockstrap). But there she was, ringside. Surrounding them were half a dozen of my teammates - friends - and my Coach, my Mitch agi, my bruh. They all had my back. And when I lost and walked off the mats, their faces reflected my disappointment. They felt what I felt, the way family does when life deals you a sucky hand.

Don't get my wrong. I felt defeated - fully - in my heart and gut.  I wanted to go the distance and instead I tapped. I really wanted to have my hand raised in victory. I would trade in a medal for that privilege any day and feel dirty accepting something I didn't earn. But this time around, it was easier to accept and put into perspective. We can't all be victorious. In every match, there's always a loser. Throughout the rest of the day, I saw several other teammates lose. I also saw many of us win. And some won several matches and still walked away empty-handed. At the end of the day, you have to accept whatever happens on the mats because they don't lie. But on the flipside, you need to define what constitutes success for yourself. For some, it's a gold medal. For some, it might just be stepping on the mats. For others, it might be expectations from their coach or community hoisted upon them. For me? I just wanted to prove that I was a better grappler than I was the last go around and I think I can safely say I achieved that. And this is why I have come to understand why some folks compete regularly. I always assumed that they must be medal chasers or just enjoy fighting. But now I think that a good number of them are like me - out there testing their skills and techniques against other trained strangers to assess their continuing growth, seeing how much progress they are making towards their full potential - the way children constantly yearn for more knowledge and abilities.

So now it's time to hit the mats and get at those areas of improvement. With increased zeal, I want to get at more takedown drills, guard passes, weaning myself off of half guard dependency, strengthening my escapes and protecting my back. Like Shawshank, it's time to get busy livin' or get busy dyin'.

Oss.