Jiu-Jitsu is HARD. It’s taken me a long while to get there, but I don’t think I have bad classes anymore. I’m always learning, always evolving, little by little.
I understand what’s going on. I can take in a demo and jump straight into a move with vicious intent. That’s great, but it’s been a long and horrible road to get there. I recently pondered whether I’m too caught up in the majesty of BJJ though, and for the most part, I guess I am. It’s a great stress reliever, but it’s often at the cost of further, albeit differing stresses.

The physical ailments you pick up in your time practicing this fabled art are ridiculous. I’m a hobbyist at best but the various bodily tweaks that I just live with, because HEY! That’s Jiu-Jitsu is utterly insane. Quite a lot of me just hurts. Your body really isn’t designed for grappling in the slightest.
My neck, my shoulders, my upper back, my knees, my ankles, my hands, fingers, toes, they’re all screaming at me on a daily basis to give it a fucking rest. If they could talk, they’d say, “Barry stop slowly destroying this ramshackled fuck of a body.”

I don’t train like a lunatic. I’m not Garry Tonon. I juggle work and a home life between BJJ, like most other normal people. I’m lucky enough to train three times a week, and my body fucking hates me for it.
I can’t even begin to imagine what other people in the club feel like. The dedicated fighters, or competitors.
I don’t feel I train stupidly. I’m not deliberately putting myself into neck cranks or anything like that, and whilst I do have a defensive focus, if something hurts or I’m uncomfortable I’ll do what I can to get out of that position. If you’ve got me, I’ll tap. I’m not in the business of trying to tear my shoulder apart fighting off an armbar. This isn’t the Worlds, it’s a grappling club in Dundee.

After my last class which was a smothering affair with a man many call Big Fat Kenny – I decided I was due a break. A good few weeks ago, I let a spazzy white belt go ham, and I’ve had quite a bit of pain around the shoulder since.
So I decided to take some time to just heal. Chill out without the strains that my body expects. Respite.

I feel pretty great physically after two weeks away. There are still niggles. I still hurt in quite a few places, but my desire to train hasn’t gone away  – which is always a worry when you take a break. I’ve still been watching a billion videos, I’ve watched tournaments, etc and of course I’m still taking a keen interest in the training of the people around me.

Mentally however, I’m back to being a wholly pissy, angry fuckhead. That’s the joy of the 9-5 and overtime on top. I haven’t had anything physical to alleviate the week’s stresses (Jiu-Jitsu is my thing, see), so it’s all been building up in one angsty ball. That sounds like a new Grunge album.

So on Monday I’ll go back to training, and try to better balance the stresses I’ve incurred, whether mental or physical, and I can’t fucking wait.

Fuck off then. x


One response to “Respite.

  1. I suppose I could work myself up to training every day. Despite the age but I have alot on my plate

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