Train like a BEAST.

Or not, because I’m not a super duper competitive athletic monster bastard. I have a very relaxed attitude towards training, but that’s no bad thing. So let’s get you up to speed.

Friday night, I got in touch with a friend of mine who is a bit of a grapple happy son of a gun. His name is Ross, and he’s been grappling in some capacity for quite a few years now. He’s about 85KG, tall and very powerful, so it’s always good to go to war with him. We decided that since he’s back in Dundee for a bit, we would have a roll about. So roll we did, for about an hour or so on Friday night.

We kept it playful, it was a flow roll and it was very enjoyable. Ross has long powerful legs, so his guard is a bit of a nightmare to work with, and his top game is also very impressive. I feel this benefitted me greatly, because it was an opportunity to work with a heavier guy, that didn’t feel the need to beast things. This’ll help me get used to some of the taller guys coming up in my category, when competing soon.

Fast forward to today (Sunday).

As I write this now, know this – I am fucking wolfing down a big bowl of porridge, because I am fucking starving. I was up and watched UFC 160 last night, whilst finishing off a bottle of Wild Turkey. This had me up until about 05:30 this morning. I went to bed, and woke up about 09:30 to get myself hydrated and fresh for today’s class.

I received a call around 10:00 to say that the class may not be on, as my instructor and one of his students had been in a car crash. So I bolted into my car, and met them. Breakfast was cancelled. Luckily both guys are fine, but the car is well and truly fucked. Some gormless fuck decided it would be best to drive around a roundabout without singalling. This caused Mr Range Rover Evoque to slam on his breaks, and one of my training buddies to go into the back of Mr Range Rover.

Now if you know cars, you’ll know that Range Rovers are tanks. As such, there was barely a mark on it, whereas my friend’s car is beyond fucked. It’s a write-off. Airbag deployed, front of the car smashed in etc. So we waited on the car getting picked up from a tow-truck, and headed to class anyways.

We trained a few interesting things today. All from knee-on-belly. Two chokes, an armbar and a kimura. They were all vicious in their own way, and extremly effective and easy to do. This is the sort of Jiu-Jitsu I love.

We moved onto a passing the guard game, which was very fun. I tapped some guys, swept some guys, and got tapped and swept myself. No need for egos here, you will be brought down a peg by someone in the very next breath.

After a fairly rigorous game, we moved onto rolling. I was first paired up with Dale, a white belt who’s very scrappy, athletic and frenetic. This was a good roll, as I just played it calm and cool (we rolled for 8 minutes, to accomodate the purple belts in the class). Neither of us took the piss, and I managed a fairly sweet gi choke that I haven’t done in a while, under the watchful eye of Speedy, who commented on how good it was. Patience really does benefit you in this sport. I didn’t just throw it on, I was calm and waited for the perfect time to lock things up. 

Raphael next. A purple belt from Brazil that has trained with the likes of Renan Barao. He absolutely destroyed me in the most friendly way possible. He caught me in a bow and arrow choke that stopped time it was so fucking brutal. He was then nice enough to show me the escape after the roll. That’s added to the big book of please get off my fucking neck, you evil bastard.

At the end of class, a few promotions were handed out. Some of the white belts got stripes, and Dean a blue belt of ten years (he works abroad for months at a time) got his purple belt. This was very deserving, as he’s an absolute monster. His training regime has been sporadic, bouncing from club to club, but Speedy didn’t hesitate to promote him to purple, as he’s for want of a better word, shit-fucking-hot.

Porridge is done, but I’m still hungry, so I’m going to cook something monsterous, or go to Burger King. My belly is growling for meat.

adeus bitches.

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