Hello again, kind listener. You’re through to WTF Radio, 96-108 on the FM. Coming at you live, from Santa Blanca, Casa de Mesa, Bravo Bravo. The original, one and only shite talker extraordinaire is back. Back on the mats. And feeling healthy. Or at least pretending to.
I’ve not been here for a while. Not that you’ll have noticed. This is because my health hasn’t been the best of late, and as a result I haven’t been able to get my arse to training, without the absolute crippling fear of shitting everywhere.
I broke at the tail end of last year. I used this as an excuse not to train through to Christmas, and basically just chill through whatever other niggling injuries I had. The joy of BJJ is that you pick up many, and that downtime was a healthy refresher for my body.
However, when it came to hitting the mats again in January, I only managed for a few sessions before having to take some time off due to IBS (irritable bowel syndrome). I then came back again, and woah NELLY. Have a kick in the dick, and some more IBS issues. Rinse and repeat for the last few months.
I’ve had to make dietary tweaks here and there, to try and get back to training properly, without that awful fear of a knee on belly painting the mats brown. Grim.
Now that the nitty gritty is out of the way, and I’m clearly back to my old horrible self. I went back to training on Monday night. We worked a back take to the S-mount, and then into a belly down back take, sorta thing. That’s as specific as I care to be right now. It was good to be back among my peers. It was good to roll again. It was good to get thoroughly whooped again. I tried to attack, but my lethargy from the past 3 months showed. So I was slow and methodical in my survival tactics. FETAL. GO FUCKING FETAL BARRY. THEY CAN’T HURT YOU WHEN YOU’RE FETAL. I sobbed gently.
I’ve thrown myself back into class this eve’, still a bit hurty from Monday, but eager nonetheless. I feel very infantile in my Jiu-Jitsu at the moment. Back to basics yet again, because I’m a sloppy silly floppy fool on the floor currently. I’m attacking like a pissed leper. Not a good look.
We continued on from Mondays class, focusing on what you can do from the back, and how to escape from those positions if you’re having them done to you. There was more rolling. I try to gravitate towards the people that are really fucking horrible to roll with. The people that are going to kill me, as it were. Frankie is pretty much always first on my list, because he’s a fucking gorilla.
He’s so bloody strong, and don’t you dare beat your chest in front of him, because he will smash you into the ground like the Silverback he is.
I had a few really good rolls tonight. Frankie, Donald, Richard and Ronnie all felt my wrath. Which happened to be a very relaxed, flowy approach. I feel new again. Hopefully it lasts a lot longer this time.
Right, off you fuck. I’m done. xxx