Being a budding artist of the grappling mat, it’s my intent to one day be really really fucking good at this. As long as I keep training, that should happen. Although with that, comes a condition similar to that of a freshly poured bowl of Rice Krispies. Adored the world over are three little characters by the name of Snap, Crackle & Pop. These three also happen to be regular noises erupting from beneath my skin. Knees, elbows, wrists, ankles, neck, shoulders, hips, my back, fingers, toes and more all on a regular basis would like to provide myself and others nearby with a bodily chorus of orchestral production.
The London Philharmonic Symphony could not appropriately recreate the sounds my body makes as I do something strenuous like walking to the fucking Kitchen. I may sound like a faulty gas boiler 90% of the time, but it’s fucking worth it for those few moments that it all clicks (cheap pun) and you do something that just works.
Today’s agenda is simple. Train at 12pm unitl 2pm. I believe we’re drilling for an hour, followed by sparring for an hour. I will break. I am unfit. I have no idea what I’m going to try and do whilst rolling, but I’m thinking of taking a less lazy approach. All I need to do now is source some cocaine, and have at it.
It was recently confirmed that the wonderful Marc Walder will be coming back to the club I train at in June. He’s doing a two day seminar (NoGi & Gi). It’s always great to hungrily steal knowledge from this man. He is incredible.
I’ll maybe report back on how broken today made me. Although hopefully not too much as I want to go to Submission Wrestling tomorrow.
You can go now.