That Guy!

I knew he was out there, but I had not yet had the pleasure of his company. Oh, I had read about him on Sherdog and the UG, but I had never shared mat space with a “that guy” of his caliber. Sure, I had experienced the joys of a spazzy white belt and the splendor of the tapout tough guy. In my experience these characters often settle down shortly after being grabbed and quickly submitted by one of the senior belts. Nothing prepared me for the “my style is superior to your style and I’m going to prove it” (MSISTYSAIGTPI) guy.

This “guy” is incorrigible and will resort to whatever weapon in his arsenal he thinks may gain him an advantage. Better yet, he (in my experience it is most often a male) will bitch and moan about how his most efficient weapons are nullified by the customs and courtesies of BJJ. More to the point, if we were fighting under his rules, I would see some (and I’m quoting) “shit that’ll make my head spin.” Fair enough, I’d like to see this “shit”.

Not too long ago I had such an opportunity to witness such splendor when a MSISTYSAIGTPI graced us with his presence. At about 6’3 and 210lbs. or so he was hard to miss when he sauntered into the academy sporting a brown belt. I’ve trained at, and visited, a number of different schools offering other martial art styles other than BJJ and always assume that I should be wearing a white belt until told otherwise by the instructor. Whatever the case, the MSISTYSAIGTPI who I was later told holds a brown belt in Krav Maga (do they even have a belt system?) performed the warm up and drilled the technique, but seemed anxious to test his skill.

From the outset of rolling it was obvious that the MSISTYSAIGTPI had little fighting skill. But more frightening for the blue belt rolling with him, he was getting extremely frustrated. Not longer after I heard a “what the f**k are you doing” from across the academy. It seems that the MSISTYSAIGTPI thought it appropriate to start punching his partner in the stomach and then the face. He was politely told that punching is not allowed in BJJ and if he did it again he would be asked to leave. He mumbled about how such restrictions just proved BJJ’s ineffectiveness. Oh really?!

One of the senior belts saddled up to me and explained that I would be next to roll with the MSISTYSAIGTPI. No pressure, eh? This reminded me of times in my youth when my hockey coach would tap me on the back after an opposing player cheap shotted a teammate. I knew then, just as now, what my job was and there was not much point in arguing.

After complaining about the BJJ rules, the MSISTYSAIGTPI and I slapped in and commenced festivities. I arm dragged him and easily took his back and choked him. After doing the same thing over and over, he complained that he was handicapped by his inability to attack my fingers. Being allowed to do so would enable him to escape the choke by breaking every finger on my choking hand. Hmmmm… being a little more than mischievous, I encourage him to give that a try. Slap in, arm drag, grab the collar...grab my fingers...tap. I asked if he had anything else he’d like to try? He looked at me sheepishly and declared - “I’ve got to learn this shit”!

Now, about that brown belt…

Best,

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

throwing the baby out with the bath-water - training and the Death Race

In previous posts I have talked about training for the Canadian Death Race: A 125 km relay through the Rocky Mountains. Well, the race is next weekend. I feel very much prepared to run the leg I was assigned. However, I think that saying this is quite different from saying I'm prepared to "race" this distance! My goal is to complete my leg in just over 2 hours. I will be quite satisfied if I can accomplish this time.

I have noticed that running long distances has been of some tremendous benefit to my grappling. While I was concerned that long runs would hamper my "wind", my sense is that my endurance, both aerobic and anaerobic thresholds, have measurably improved. We spar a lot at our club so I have lots of opportunity to gauge my fit-ness level and may account for my increased anaerobic capacity. For example, Saturday open mat runs from 11:30 to 1:30 during which tend to spar for the good part of the time. In the past, I would begin to get noticeably fatigued after about 45 minutes of rolling. Now, however, I can typically roll at a moderate pace for a good portion of the time.

Conventional wisdom - at least of what I'm aware - suggests that training for fights should consist mainly of high intensity interval training (HIIT) - and I agree fundamentally with this perspective. I understand that training should mimic fighting conditions - certainly. And HIIT fits the bill nicely. Moreover, this form of training is interesting, fun and can be varied to avoid becoming banal. Its very difficult to argue the efficacy of this approach after watching the results of Jon Chaimberg's work become actualized through GSP's 5 rounds of awesomeness. From what I understand Chaimberg, for the most part, eschews long slow distance training. Again, after watching what he has accomplished in elite athletes such as GSP, arguing otherwise is akin to arguing against puppies (who doesn't like puppies) or mothers.

I don't want to argue with Chaimberg or against him. His results speak volumes. My only point, and granted I don't have a lot of fodder in support of it, is that I think there may be role for long distance training to play in the fighter's training.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not sentimental in the least when it comes to running. I don't have a great affinity for it. Moreover, I'm not certain that fighters should be running long distances everyday as overuse injuries loom large - that's the last thing a fighter preparing for a big fight wants. Rather, I want to suggest that perhaps there is a place for moderate 10 or 15 km runs situated somewhere in the training cycle. Is there not some benefit to this type of training? Is it useless for a fighter to incorporate moderately paced running in their training programs?

As for me, will I continue to run longer distances as part of my training? My sense is that I will. I've derived a tremendous benefit from it. I'm lighter, quicker and can roll for longer periods. At the same time, I'm not anxious to run in minus 30* weather! Once September or October rolls around, I'm going to incorporate more of the kind of training Jon Chaimberg advocates and see what happens.

best,

Bryan

Promoted!

Time has gotten away on me! I can't believe how much time has past since my last post. So much is going on! Before I get to the subject of this post I have to mention how sincerely pissed I am about the snow on the ground here in Edmonton. It's not sufficiently sucky that we have 6 months of frozen terra firma, we are supposed to have another week of this - IT'S MAY!

On to the fun. Rodrigo Munduruca was in town this weekend for a seminar. My instructor had hinted that I was ready for promotion to purple belt a few weeks ago. However, Rod put any thoughts I was having to this end to rest when he mentioned at the beginning of the seminar that he was here only to roll and teach a seminar and, to my slight disappointment, any promotions would have to wait until his next visit. I had a great class - no pressure. I rolled with Rod for about 10 minutes (as you can see from the pictures, he's a big guy!) and he did his best not to squish me, while I tried to offer up my best resistance. I caught him with an omoplata and crusifix which seemed to surprise him...which is a good thing. (I don't know why I'm doing the "surfer" in this picture - not much surfing 'round these parts!).

At the end of class I was called to the front. Rod removed my belt and gave me a shiny new purple one. 

One of my training partners quipped that while the belt was pretty, it did little to make me look any better! Whatever the case, I was delighted and, I must admit, a little frightened. 

Big thanks to Misty Shearer who has guided, supported and assisted me with my progress throughout! I would not be where I am today without her!

The other guy in the picture is Brandon Hammond who was awarded his blue belt! You can't tell by this picture, but Brandon has some of the worst salad  this side of N'Sync. I've never seen anyone spend more time on his hair, yet have it still look fantastically abysmal. Great job Brandon (on the promotion, not the hair).

Thanks also to Kyle Cardinal for always making me feel welcome and being such an amazing teacher! Kyle's also a big dude. For such a monster he rolls like a cat. 

best,

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

Starting the journey

I arrived at BJJ's doorstep through a rather circuitous route. You see, in one way or another I have always been involved in combat sports. I wrestled throughout high school, been slammed to the mat thousands of times as a judoka and punched in the face more times than I care to remember during my stint in Muay Thai - perhaps this explains a few things. When I arrived in the great white north, I was looking for something to fill the void. I was also overweight - a condition that felt severely awkward given my previous sports obsessed life. But, this is what happens when under the stress and time crunch of a demanding PhD programme. Those 4 years of my life (basically) involved waking up, going to the fridge, watching some horrible programming on tv while downing some equally horrible breakfast cereal, sitting at my desk writing for hours, realizing I'm hungry, going to the fridge, sleeping... My life and body paid severely for the inertia. Although I was not entirely sedentary during this period - I played golf... I'm not complaining or regretful - I have a (sometimes) wonderful job, wonderfully understanding wife and two fantastic children for the effort. But I was neglecting something tremendously important - my body. While my mind was becoming increasingly acute, my body was becoming rather substantial. 

Quite literally, I woke up one day and looked at my kids and Joanne, and then down to my rapidly expanding abdomen (where there was once a 6 pack) and decided I needed to do something ... I was tipping the scales at an oh so impressive 230 lbs. (I'm 5'10 ish). Toward getting back to some kind of fighting shape, I went back to Muay Thai for several years. This got my rather lethargic golfer's ass in gear and (re)awakened my competitive spirit. But something was missing. Although I was getting rather proficient at punching, elbowing and especially kicking, I wanted something more. 

While driving to work everyday I routinely sped passed a place advertising Mixed Martial Arts. After 2 years of driving past the sign and telling myself that I should really drop in, I finally did just that. Not only did this gym offer Muay Thai, but BJJ. ... 

There is much more to this story which I will offer as time goes on. But, suffice it to say for now that the mats are my home away from home and I weigh in at a healthier 170 lbs.. I've never been happier (is it weird that choking people makes me happy?)!

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

Out of the blue

Have you ever been caught in position, or, had something done to you where you did not have a response? In more theoretical terms, has there ever been a disturbance that has disrupted your intuitive response? Where, no matter how much rolling you have done, something comes out of left field to leave you bewildered and shocked?

When I first started rolling, this would happen regularly. Through repetition and countless hours of rolling most of the surprise factor has been drilled out of me. That was until last Saturday when my opponent grabbed my belt and pulled. I realize this happens a lot while in bottom 1/2 guard among others - I can deal with this. Rather, I was standing above my opponent who was butt scooting to establish position. When I stepped in to initiate my pass, he grabbed my belt and extended it over his knee. Needless to mention, but suffice it to say, the belt felt like a boa around my waist. What do you do in this situation? I had to stop and think for more than a little while which allowed him to take advantage; which, as I mentioned in a previous post, obfuscates a centred and rationale response.

How does this inability to (re)act occur? What is the cognitive process (or is it a lack?) when something occurs which you have not drilled and never seen? The rational response is to rely on what you know... fair enough and that's what I tried to do (hips forward and using his momentum to my advantage), but the initial grabbing of my belt had sufficiently disrupted my focus. I'm certain that the ability to remain centred when confronted by obscurity requires fantastic patience and hours of practice.

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

"Don't think..."

Before moving on to the subject of this post, I need to request your assistance. My study has now moved into the interview phase. My hope is to interview as many as 40 BJJ players from around the world (both women and men). I would sincerely appreciate any help toward this end you may be able to offer. If you have some time to speak with me about your BJJ experiences please contact me at bjjstudy@gmail.com. Or, pass along my email address to anyone you think may be able to help. Thank you. Bryan  

I've come to the realization that the more I am forced to think while rolling, the more awkward and ungainly I become. A little while ago I was helping with the beginner class. At the end of the class, TP put the upper belts who were teaching at the front of the class to roll with the white belts. On this occasion, like others, TP gave us a task. In this case, we were to lock in a Kimura - but without finishing it. We were to just find as many places to grab it as possible. My favourite positions include: top side mount, from guard (failed or feinted rainbow sweep) or off the pass. However, this usually is accomplished in a dynamic roll. 

I had a terrible time. I felt awkward - not nearly as smooth as is (sometimes) the case. I felt self conscious. I was able to lock it in 2 or 3 times; but they all felt sloppy. I felt lost. Frustrated, I triangled one of my opponents to kimura the trapped arm!? I had  lost something essential to the art - flow!

When we stop to focus and concentrate on the things in which we are intimately involved action is fundamentally and necessarily inhibited. When we are able to let go and 'flow with go', our experience becomes almost effortless. 

"Don't think... it can only hurt the ball club." (crash davis - Bull Durham)

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

Someday...

In my previous post I promised some background to my thoughts. If you recall, I was discussing mutual learning in BJJ and the importance of synergistic pedagogy. Let's be clear though, opportunity for this type of cooperative learning environment increases the further along a BJJ player progresses. That is, because of time on the mat, experience and, as a result, accumulated knowledge, a black belt will naturally have much more to share than a white belt who has been training for 6 months. That being said, in my view there is much room for the white belt to be a part of the give and take of a truly open and hospitable gym/dojo.

Case in point, a private lesson with a white belt was what prompted me to start thinking about BJJ and pedagogy. The session started with me teaching him a couple of chokes from sidemount and ended with a light roll. For me, these are "teaching rolls" where I try to be as smooth (not always easy) as possible. When I secure a submission I control the position and allow my partner to fight out of it - or talk her/him through the proper escape. At the end of our time, Tim thanked me and said, "someday, Bryan, someday". I looked at him and said, "I sincerely hope so". One of the guys sitting on the sidelines replied, "yah, right!" I sincerely meant what I said. I DO want Tim to tap me ... someday.

The response from the guy on the sidelines bothered me. Once I thought more about the situation, the more it occurred to me that his reply was to be expected. In my experience, a good number of BJJ players have an informal inventory going on in their heads about who has tapped who. They are also very much aware of where they stand. While this may be true in my experience, it may not be in yours. Whatever the case, and while this type of mentality may be somewhat unavoidable (and healthy?), it nevertheless holds potential to produce all kinds of problems - jealousy, cliques, uncontrolled sparring, injuries & etc.. 

What if, instead of being upset and guarded that someone from your team has the goal of one day tapping you, you show them how to do it? What if, we see the mats, not as a space of competition, but of mutual learning and benefit? What if, the gym is no longer such, but becomes a dojo (place/space of enlightenment)? What if ... someday! 

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

A space of mutual learning

As an academic I hope to inspire students to learn and think critically about the social world in which they are situated. I am always amazed and proud when one of my students offers uncommonly astute insite into social-economic-political phenomena. My hope is that they surpass my meagre attempts at theorizing and understanding.

At the same time, I understand the classroom as an open space for dialogue, debate, and, most important, mutual learning. Unlike some in my profession, I do not consider students empty vessels into which I pour my (vast?) wisdom. I do not stand at the head of the class lecturing ad nauseum about what and how students should think. Rather, I attempt to provide students with tools to make sense of their being in the world. Armed thus, it is my hope that students will offer insite or critique of which I had not thought. I mean this sincerely, it makes me feel proud when one of my students gets me thinking in ways I had not before. These are good days.

Is there linkages that can be drawn between the BJJ mat and the classroom? Is the mat a forum for debate and mutual learning? Or, is it a space on which the professor reigns and is not to be challenged, questioned, or surpassed? What happens when this occurs? That is, when a student consistently taps out the professor. Does the latter celebrate their students success and learn from this situation? Or, is there something endemic not only to BJJ, but to martial arts, that prohibits such interactions?

I'm not saying that all professors, whether academic or BJJ (not that they are mutually exclusive), think or behave along these lines. Rather, my point is to suggest that perhaps the mats can be viewed as a space of mutual learning which may push the boundaries of not only learning, but the martial art itself. I'll have more to say about what got me thinking along these lines in a subsequent post.

Best,

Bryan

bjjstudy@blogspot.com

Metaphors and more

How is it possible to understand or make sense of the process involved in securing a submission. When I was in Toronto recently one of the blackbelts suggested that the end to which we work in BJJ is analogous to joke telling. 

Bare with me, I think there may be something here. If we consider jokes or joking we are immediately struck by the centrality of surprise. If we tell a joke in which the punch line is a foregone conclusion, then the joke ceases to be funny and bleeds into the realm of story or narrative. For a joke to be funny, to elicit the desired response (laughter), requires that incongruities be resolved in a fresh and unique way. 

The same, it seems, applies to BJJ. If I told you with my body language or whatever else that I was intent on securing an armlock, most would be able to defend it. When I am rolling with white belts, I'll often tell that what I'm after - say a choke - to see if they can defend it and to help hone both mine and their skills. At higher levels - purple and above - this tack becomes futile such that it will lead nowhere. Rather, at higher levels we attempt to lead our opponent down one path so that we may surprise them with something else - something they did not see coming. 

For instance, I was rolling with one of our more accomplished blue belts recently. I am working on wrist locks so my goal for the day was to see how many different ways and directions I could set them up. MS tips the scales at 240 or 250 and moves quite well. We started rolling and I passed his guard - recall that I weigh about 170lbs., so I do not play bottom with guys this big! After establishing technical (as John Danaher maintains - what's so technical about it?) mount I grabbed his collar as if setting up a hell choke. He defended by grabbing his collar, which brought his elbow away from his side and exposed his arm. I locked it with my arm. Thinking I was going to spin for an armlock, he defended by grabbing his elbow, which then exposed his hand for the wrist lock. I secured his hand and (gently) put on the lock. When he realized what was happening he let out a quick yelp. I quickly asked if he was ok and whether I hurt him. He said, no, not at all, only that I surprised the "shit" out of him.

He hadn't expected the wrist lock that I set up initially with the choke and then the armlock. Is this how we are to do BJJ - to tell jokes with our body? To surprise our opponents/training partners with incongruities?

Bryan

bjjstudy@gmail.com

BJJ is like air

One thing has become abundantly clear through my research to this point: people who do BJJ are a passionate bunch. One of my respondents said that the art is akin to air. For her, BJJ is a necessity. It is part of her being and fundamental to her identity. This respondent trains 4 to 5 times a week - sometimes more. When she's not training she has her nose buried deep into Gracie Magazine or has her eyes glued to competition and instructional DVDs. 

I wonder if this is an advantageous attitude? Is there a greater chance that someone with this much commitment will "burn out" much more quickly than someone who takes a more casual approach to training? I'm really curious about this because I fall into the former camp such that I'm somewhat addicted to training. Does this obsession (as my wife calls it) set me up for disappointment, burn out or let down somewhere in the future?

Or, is it the case that early obsession becomes tempered the further along in our progression we proceed? Is it that formerly obsessed BJJ players mature into a more relaxed, but still dedicated attitude? Awa Kenzo, the teacher of Eugen Herrigel in the classic text Zen in the Art of Archery (if you haven't already, I encourage you to read this wonderful little book!), boasted Ten Commandments for his archery students. One of the dictums suggests that one does not shoot obsessively. At the same time Kenzo was a dedicated teacher and archer who trained whenever his body would allow and claimed that: "If you train with the Bow everyday, you have a new life everyday" (Kenzo 2007, 46). Setting aside the obvious Zen connotations for the time being - I'll come back to this another day -, what I think is important in Kenzo's discourse is how we need to reconcile daily training on the one hand with tempered engagement on the other. 

What I think is important and what Kenzo is getting at is a mature dedication to an art or, in his case, a Way that comes from years of dedicated training. The difficulty is getting to this point without "burning out" before maturity and sophistication set in. To help me understand a mature attitude toward BJJ I am convinced that I need to replace the air metaphor. 

walking the injury tight-rope

A question in which I'm particularly interested concerns training injuries. In fact, my survey queries respondents about their experiences. I'm fantastically curious about training injuries - for example, how people feel about inflicting them and how the injured negotiate the impairment. 

I was conducting an interview recently with a relatively new BJJ player. When I asked her about whether she considered injuries to be intrinsic to BJJ she looked at me as if I had horns and said, "Uh, that's kinda the point, isn't it?" Others have echoed her sentiment by intimating that BJJ technique, by definition, is designed to maim. What is an arm-lock if not a hold designed to break arms? 

When I think about my own experiences it occurs to me that a fine line separates tapping and the technique going a little too far and causing pain or injury. Or, between a BJJ player thinking that all they need is a little more room or a little more time to escape and the infliction of injury.

Practicing BJJ, it seems, is akin to walking an injury tight-rope. On the one hand, a BJJ player does not want to tap too early lest they could counter the move. For certain, we are all trained in ways to annul an arm-lock attempt. On the other hand, we want to return to fight another day. Taking these two sides into account (I'm certain there's more) at what point do we or should we tap? What responsibility does the attacker have to ensure our safety? ... while at the same time executing the technique?

We fight with you because we love you!?

During his last visit our Brazilian professor urged our club to hold competition style fights at the end of classes. Maybe once or twice a week the senior belt was to indicate two players of similar weight and similar ability to fight. Coaches and a timer would also be designated. His rationale was twofold: first, at its core BJJ is fighting and if a practitioner didn't want to test her/his skills thus perhaps another art where such tests are avoidable would be preferred. At first brush, this seems a little harsh, no? Upon further reflection such perception avoids what sets BJJ apart from other martial arts - that it can be trained at very high intensity. Damian Maia recently remarked after a triangle choke victory over Chael Sonnen that his goal was to demonstrate through jiu jitsu how fights can be won without physically destroying your opponent (I'm paraphrasing). Maia is an unbelievable talent and his BJJ is remarkable. But, what about two white belts? Do they gain as much from a fight as a more casual roll? Does such an encounter expose their weaknesses? Or does it simply confirm what we already know - that white belts have much to work on? Does this situation differ for purple belts? Can they learn much about their technique, what "works",  and what doesn't? 

Or, are these questions not what's at stake here? Perhaps these fights expose something of the character of the player. Perhaps they lay bare something uncomfortable that we don't want to admit. Whatever the case, not everyone in the gym is equally agreeable about the efficacy of these bouts.

The second reason our professor maintains we should fight each other is "out of love". "We fight you because we love you", he argued. Again this will seem perverse to the outsider. Indeed, even those on the inside may object. Fighters, no matter of what background, need to be tested before they enter the ring or octagon or step on the mat for their first tournament match. Getting punched in the face for the first time is daunting and disagreeable (not that I know anyone who 'likes' to get punched, although some of the tough guys like to think so). No doubt, having such an experience for the first time when it counts could be disastrous. The same holds for someone squeezing a guillotine or armbar with the intention of breaking it. What are you going to do when you realize this is for keeps? 

This kind of fighting, according to the professor, makes us better competitors and people. Each seemingly intolerable experience exposes us to the limits of our psyche and demands that we push past them in to the vast seas of the previously unknown. How many times have you been at the wrong end of a ridiculously heavy s-mount or particularly tight kesa getame and thought that tapping would end the pain, but instead you propelled yourself forward to reverse the position? Such experiences are not cheap. They come at a cost to our comfortable being in the world and show us much about ourselves. More importantly, they ask that we explore the outer limits of our being. 

Is it love that pushes us? I'm not so convinced that it is love that acquaints us with this other self, but whatever 'it' is, I welcome these experiences for the insight into myself and my limits they yield.