Tonight was difficult. Really fucking difficult. I’m still struggling away on a day to day basis with my IBS, as mentioned in a previous post (I’ve adapted my diet somewhat, and I’m hoping for the best, again). However, I refuse to let it control the things I love to do. I’ve missed enough training as it is, and whilst I’ve spent most of today suffering from horrible abominal cramps and the lethargy that goes with it, I decided to still go to class.
So naturally I showed up to class and the instructor wasn’t there. It was an open mat. Free reign to do whatever you want. Fuck sake. The last thing I need is an excuse not to put effort in. C’mon Barry, don’t be a wanker.
There were a few guys that didn’t have a gi with them. So Grant and I decided it would be best to improvise a move or three so that they could at least learn something before they were forced into the endless guantlet that is rolling (they were given the choice of continuing to drill, or roll).
We probably rolled for about 45-50 minutes. Which when you’ve had a difficult day, is really fucking shitty. I got beaten and battered throughout the night, as you’d expect, but I was there. I gave what I could, and attacked when there were openings. This may have been one of my worst nights in a while, but picking myself back up and continuing onwards will one day see me at my very best. That’s the beauty of grappling. You have to get the shit kicked out of you 999,999 times before you can have that 1 wonderful performance. A night where you make everyone else’s day absolute hell.
With that in mind, you don’t know what that person is going through on that particular day that you’ve crushed their spirit, so sing your failures, and hide your victories. That’s how I intend to earn the respect of my peers in this game.
This is where you’re meant to do that wanky Brazilain Jiu-Jitsu/Martial Arts deep breathy noise, that no-one knows the true origin of, and people still think originated from Okinawa. I’m not doing that.
*Judo CHOP!* Cha’mone motherfucker.