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A Few Hours With Buchecha

This week, our gym brought in Buchecha (a 3x world champ) to do a seminar. I had some extra money and so I figured why not show up to all 3 sessions.  I don’t do a lot of seminars. This is for a few reasons. First, as with everything else, it’s a commitment of time and money. This seminar was $150 for 6 hours of instruction.  So when I signed up I committed to that time and money. Second, I like learning the basics and getting better at that. I want a firm foundation, and I get the impression that a lot of times that’s not taught at seminars because you have freak athletes teaching and they want to make sure you get your money’s worth. And once or twice I’ve gotten the impression the person doesn’t really want to be there teaching, but that they’re getting paid so they’ll do it. (And from reading other people’s accounts online, that isn’t uncommon.)

However, this seminar hasn’t been that way. I showed up about 15 minutes early to the first seminar and Buchecha is rolling with guys, whoever wants to roll with him.  A 3x world champion is rolling with white, blue, purple, brown and black belts. Why? Because he likes rolling with people, and he’s having fun.

Second, the techniques he was showing were very practical. He commented numerous times that he likes to work on the fundamentals. And he showed techniques that helped him win the world championship, and they were pretty basic.

But I think what got me most, though, was his interaction with us. The first session, I was probably about the 12th highest rank (read: in the middle, possibly on the low side.) We had 3 other black belts, a brown a bunch of purples and some other blue belts.  He showed the first technique and we all went off to practice it.  A couple minutes later I hear “Yeah…that will work. But if you do that, let go of the other hand as well.” I look up and Buchecha is talking to me. He’s walking around the room checking on everyone. I had messed up the move, and he was telling me the way he showed it was best, but if I wanted to do a variation I needed to switch my hands.

Honestly, a lot of what I like about Buchecha and this seminar is I think he’d fit in as an instructor at MAMAs. It didn’t feel like a seminar, it felt like a normal class (a normal class taught by a world champion, but still, a normal class.)  He walked around and made sure people were getting the technique. He answered questions. He was available before the session and after the session.

In a lot of ways, he and Robert Drysdale had similar seminars.  For that reason, I got a picture with him before the second session. I believe, apart from my own coaches, this is the first picture I’ve ever taken with anyone in the BJJ community. But he is a great coach and if you ever get the chance to go to a seminar, make sure you do it.



That GOOD Pain

Have you ever been exhausted?  I don’t mean “Have you ever been tired at the end of a day at the office?”  I mean have you ever just felt every muscle in your body yelling at you to sit down? Have your muscles ever been so tired that your eyes want nothing more than to close for 8 or more hours? Have you ever been so tired that it’s a chore to walk across the room, not because of anything particularly sore or injured, but just because you’re that exhausted?

Have you ever been sore? Have you been sore and you don’t know why? Again, not in a “I must have slept wrong” kind of way. But more of a “How on Earth could my SHINS hurt?” Where, when you stand up to walk to someone’s desk at work you notice that your ribs are sore. As you walk down the hall you detect some fatigue in your knee.

BJJ has done all of that for me (or is it to me?)

But it’s been a while.  For the past six months or so, I’d put a project at work ahead of training. That’s probably the “mature” or “adult” thing to do.  I went from training around 6-7 hours every week to something like 4 hours a week.  The reduction in mat time, the addition of stress from work, and the availability of candy led to me gaining some weight as well.

This week, though, I went back to my old routine.  I trained two hours on Monday, two on Tuesday (including lunch time sparring with the “Noon High Ninjas”), three hours on Thursday (again including lunch time sparring, this time it was no-gi), and then two more hours on Saturday. So nine hours total.  By the end of the BJJ class on Saturday my body was telling me that it was good that I was taking off until Monday.

All through the week I was sore and tired. I have some kind of gi burn behind my right ear. I have/had mysterious bruises on my arms and chest this week. My ribs were tender. Not bruised or anything serious. But I definitely felt it even when the lightest guy started in kesa gatame.

And you know what? I have really missed that feeling.

I have missed random soreness.

I have missed being down right exhausted.

I discovered that I love it. I don’t love being in pain. But I love what that pain represents. That pain represents growth on the mat. It represents getting better. It represents progress. I don’t ever want to wake up in this kind of pain having done nothing the day before. As it is right now, that pain reminds me that yesterday I did something. Yesterday, I went out and tried to submit someone and keep someone from submitting to me. Yesterday, I fought. I didn’t fight people. I fought myself. And the pain and exhaustion are the reminders of that, and encouragement to do it again next week.

Empty Shell


In a fog.


Out of air.

An empty shell shuffling between matches.

Those all describe how I felt tonight.  I was excited to get back to sparring after being off a couple weeks. I was excited to see a full class tonight.  I had a couple decent rolls to start the night.  Then…something happened. I felt like I was a white belt again.  I was rolling with someone and could not catch my breath.

It wasn’t like when you run a sprint or compete in a hard fought BJJ match and you’re over in the corner sucking air. Instead it felt like I was under water, and had to come up gasping for air.  I tapped.  In a way, it felt as if I’d panicked, something I hadn’t done in probably two years.

In other ways, it felt like I gave up, like I quit.  I’m not sure what happened.  Even 45 minutes later, on the drive home, I could still feel it. I could breath fine. I wasn’t short of breath. I had not problem taking deep breaths, but I felt it.  I really don’t know if it was my asthma (I took my inhaler, something I rarely have to do) or was just one of those times when I could actually catch my breath but convinced myself I couldn’t.

Whatever it was, for the next few matches I felt almost lifeless. I was sparring someone underwater. Every movement was slow and sluggish.

I’m not sure what my problem was tonight, but this was definitely one of those times when I didn’t have “it.” Instead, anything I did, I had to work hard for.

It wasn’t a fun night. But, it was another night in my journey of BJJ.

Belt Purgatory

Tonight, after rolling, we got to talking about someone I saw at a tournament that was probably in “belt purgatory.” By that we meant this guy had been stuck at purple so long that his purple belt looked like a white belt.

I said I thought I was going to be in blue purgatory, then purple purgatory and then brown purgatory.  As I thought about that on the drive home, I thought how purgatory described how I often feel right now.  I’m stuck in between two worlds. The white belt world and the world of the other blue belts I see.  I often feel like I earned not being a white belt anymore, but at times, I still feel like I haven’t quite earned a blue. I’m stuck in limbo.

The more I thought about that the more I had to challenge myself with what I was thinking. Each belt is a progression. I’m sure there are things that every blue should know/do and every purple should know/do, etc.  But someone that just got his blue belt today is going to have huge gaps from what someone that might get their purple tomorrow, and yet their both blue.

While there are definitely times I still feel like I’m in limbo (beyond white, not yet blue) I also realize that I’ve grown. Even tonight, while I was getting dominated in a sparring match I realized two things:

  1. HAD to stay off my back while in bottom half-guard and/or side control
  2. I was in a position I could not shrimp from (My feet were up, not on the ground.)

As I thought about that I realized that most likely, a year ago, I wouldn’t have realized that while rolling. Now, did I fix it? Sort of, I didn’t get flattened out, but I also didn’t shrimp away.  But I think even seeing that stuff is growth.

One other area of growth that I realize I’ve seen over the last couple months is being able to ask a question.  It hit me recently when an instructor was asking the class what questions we had.  We ran out of time before he got to me, but I actually had a question!  When I was a white belt and the instructors would ask what I was struggling with, I would never know what to say.

So in reality, I’m probably not in purgatory or limbo between belts. But it sure feels that way sometimes.

The Double-Edged Sword of BJJ

I’ve been really sporadic in my training this year. Just a lot of things going on. A lot of excuses I can offer as to why I haven’t trained as much as in recent years.  But none of those matter, I haven’t put in the mat time in 2015.

This week was the first time for me to be back in the gym in 2 weeks. Which might not sound like much, but last year I was training about 7 hours a week. Anyway, one thing I’ve been struggling with is the lack of progress I’ve made as a blue belt. Obviously lack of mat time is a big factor.

Today after sparring something dawned on me. BJJ is a double-edged sword. That sword is its simplicity.

Hear me out.

It seems to escape every bad position is essentially this: If you can bridge. If you’re flat, get up on a shoulder, then an elbow and possibly a hand. Move away. Put your feet on your opponent and control the distance.

It might be more nuanced than that. But today I was rolling and was in a bad position, I hear our coach telling me to get up on my elbow. I tried, but ended up in a worse position. After the round he showed me what he meant. It really was to get up on an elbow, scoot my butt towards my elbow and keep doing that until I could do a knee shield or foot on his hip etc.

Why is that a double edge sword? Because I think I learned all of that the first month or so of training.

It’s not that once you get to blue you learn more moves, and the purple, brown and black learn even more (I’m assuming, anyway, nobody has taught me secret blue belt moves.) Instead, it’s realizing that if your opponent is behind you with their chest on your shoulder and their knee pinning your legs, you still need to shrimp and get up to your knees and scoot away.

The techniques are that simple.

At the same time, their difficult to pull off in every situation. Or for me, their even difficult to recognize in every situation. I’ll wind up somewhere and think “Surely THIS position calls for a different escape.” So far the answer every time has been “No. There’s nothing special about this position either.”

It gives me hope that I can get better on those moves. It’s also incredibly frustrating that 3 years in I still can’t do the basics.

Time Heals Wounds

Regular readers of this blog (are there really any? I don’t know, but it sounds cool) will no doubt have seen my struggles dealing with my tournament performance a few weeks ago. It was even noticeable to some of my teammates the week following my tournament as they asked if that was still bothering me.

This past week was not a good BJJ week for me. Our gym was closed for Labor Day. I wasn’t able to train over lunch on Tuesday. Thursday I had my bag packed and was ready to go, and life “got in the way” so I had to go deal with that.  So I went 8 days between training sessions.

This past Friday I was at open mat and was rolling with one of my favorite BJJ people. He’s been better than me my entire career, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the rolls.  I had a decent day on Friday night. Granted, I didn’t submit him, I’ve only done that once and I’m not convinced that I really got him that time. But I was able to defend some positions, escape some positions and overall give him some good looks as he got ready for a tournament.

As I left the gym that night I thought “This is why people train.” You can have a bad day, week, or month. But then you have a good, not great, day and you are excited to train again. It was fun just to be in the gym rolling with people I enjoy hanging around with, and getting a good sweat in for about an hour, before I kicked off my weekend.

After lamenting about my tournament performance, I received a lot of encouragement about how it’s the person who doesn’t quit that achieves. That seems to be true. What I do know is that had I quit, or even just wallowed in my self pity and stayed away from the gym for awhile, I wouldn’t have been able to experience Friday.  You’ve got to get back on the horse.

Why do I do This?

Saturday after my tournament, I had a 3 hour drive home by myself.  I don’t mind driving, and I had loaded up on podcasts for the trip so I wasn’t worried about being bored. The thing about driving solo, however, is there is ample time to reflect. And after losing 3 of 3 matches, there was plenty to reflect on.

I joked this morning with someone that I think I went through all the stages of grief on the drive home. There were times when I was questioning why I do this, maybe not so much BJJ, but compete. I chastised myself for getting into my head too much. Try as I might, I could not convince myself that I should be able to win one match for a gold medal.

I thought about how in at least one of my matches, I didn’t really move and it’s hard to win when you don’t move. I thought about how I might be “too defensive.”  Too worried about being submitted, and afraid to move and get caught. Preferring instead to lose 2-0 on points than get submitted.

I thought a lot about how, maybe, I’m just not that good. I really had no reason to assume anything different would happen at this tournament. I’ve not historically had good tournaments. I wasn’t beating all the whites and blues at the gym.

Quite frankly, I’m not sure why this tournament has had me down so much. It’s unusual for it to be Monday night after sparring, over 48 hours since the tournament ended and me still down. But I am.

As I mopped the gym tonight, and again as I drove home, I reflected on the realization, that I’m not sure I’ve actually improved since my blue belt test last October.  I don’t feel like I have. I don’t even mean that as a lot of guys do, where they think “I’m still getting beat by so-and-so and I’m still not beating so-and-so.”  Instead, I’m looking at the stupid little things I don’t do, basic things like shrimping away.  I’ve probably improved since a year ago, but I haven’t felt like I’ve actually improved in ground fighting for several months (I do think my standup is getting better, as I’ve been taking judo almost every week for a while now.)

On my drive home I thought some more about if I’m getting better or not. I realized I have a few choices.

  1. Quit BJJ
  2. Keep doing exactly what I’ve been doing
  3. Do something different, change things up.

I’m not considering #1, but it’s always an option, so it showed up on my list.

Number 2 leads to the old saying “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.”  Which means, #2 is a viable option. I could focus on training the way I always have and then I’d just have to come to terms with the outcomes I get.

Number 3 seems like the “right” choice.  That’s probably what I should do. If I want to have different results, I need to do something different.  Train differently, prepare differently, add private lessons, spar less, spar more, quit my job and live on the mats, something.

I’m pretty sure, although not positive, that I’ll choose #3. I don’t know yet what change I’ll make. It could be minor or something more drastic. I know it’s the only way to get better, by forcing myself to grow.

I debated even writing this post and then again posting it. It sounds super negative, and I guess it is one of my more negative ones. I also don’t mean for it to be the dramatic middle-school-esque “nobody likes me” type of post. At the same time, I started this blog to chronicle my journey as I got up off my couch, and onto the mats, and the truth is, sometimes getting off the couch is a struggle.  And if anyone actually reads these, I’d like them to know that if they ever wonder “What am I doing out here” that other people have had those thoughts.

Two Thoughts After Refereeing a Tournament

This weekend I went back down to Topeka to help out with the Sunflower State Games. We sent 6 referees down this year. It was my second year doing it with guys from my gym, and once again it was really fun.

This year I spent almost all of my time in the kids brackets. I wrapped up the kids’ gi matches right before lunch, and then no-gi about 1.5 hours after lunch.  By the time I was all done with the kids, I ref’d 4 male white belt matches, 2 male blue belt matches, and 2 female absolute matches, and then the tournament was done.

As I was refereeing the kids, there were quite a few key lock attacks from mount. Only one was successful and even that one, the kid didn’t tap, but I stopped it as it looked pretty nasty.  Watching the kids compete this time made me realize something, if a kid got hurt on my mat, and I could have prevented it, I would feel absolutely horrible. We want them to have fun and compete, and part of our job to is to make sure they’re doing so in a safe environment.  So when arms started getting twisted, I was watching closely. For example, one kid had his arm stretched out in a straight arm bar, but his thumb was pointing down and the attacker didn’t correct it. I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable, but overall, the kid was safe. The only one I stopped the attacker had correct form and the kid defending had his elbow pointing almost to 12 o’clock. I wanted to make sure he was safe, and when I stopped it, he didn’t argue, no parents argued, no coaches argued, I think everyone realized that even if he didn’t tap, he was in a pretty bad position.

The other thing that struck me while refereeing was how, for the most part, the competitors have a lot of sportsmanship.  It’s hard to see with the little kids, because the get emotional from losing. It’s almost always out of embarrassment and occasionally out of being scared. I didn’t see a single kid get mad at his or her opponent. I saw, on numerous times, both coaches congratulating the kids, consoling the kids and telling them they did good and were safe. That wasn’t too surprising, really. What struck me was the teen and adult competitors.

There was one teen that was 3 or 4 years older than his opponent, and had him in a tight arm bar. The younger teen kept working to defend. In the end, he tapped, but not to that arm bar. As soon as the match was over, the victor turned to the other kid and said “That was a good arm bar defense.”  And it really was. Although I only ref’d less than 10 adult matches this year, they were all good sports, telling each other after the match things like “That was a tight choke you had” or “I couldn’t believe I didn’t sweep you.” I even saw one match in which the two guys had gone against each other and the guy that lost had his elbow pop. That was before they came to my mat. The guy that won the first match was once again winning the second one and he had his arm, he turned to the guy and said “I don’t want to hurt your arm.” The other guy didn’t tap, so he applied it a little bit more and he tapped.  True, he shouldn’t have been talking during the match, but he could have easily locked on the submission and cranked hard, but he didn’t.

When we step on the mat to compete, it’s for different reasons. I do it to challenge myself and see how I’ve progressed. Others do it to prove they’re the best. Others do it for their own reasons.  But it was nice to see that even in a tournament experience, the competitors respected their opponents and wanted them to be safe.

Comparing Myself

The last few weeks I’d been thinking about how I measure myself in BJJ.  I realized that I’ve had a problem throughout my life.  It’s not easy to be succinct with what the problem is, but I’ll try.

In various areas of my life, I’ve found myself friends with people that are near the top of whatever it is we’re doing.  For example, during my time in seminary, one of my workout partners was an assistant to the president of the seminary. Other friends and study partners had done internships at what I considered “impressive” churches.  Now, if you read that and think that’s an oxymoron, it really kind of is.  However, in my mind, it wasn’t, because I admired those churches and the men that were leading them.

That is true in other areas of my life as well.  I’m a pretty decent software developer. I surround myself with other software developers that are most likely way better than me. I’m a conference speaker. I’m not the best conference speaker, I enjoy it, but when I go to conference, I try to hang out with those speakers that are better than me.

I’m finding that to be the case with BJJ as well. I have some amazing teammates. I have teammates that seem to medal (or do medal) every time they step out on the mat.  There are guys I roll with that seem to always be cool, calm and collected. Meanwhile I’m over here trying to not be nervous before my first match at a local tournament.

What I’ve found in each situation is that I’m envious of those people. It’s not an obsessive envy, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t envy each of those folks.  But what I’ve seen as well is that if I try to be someone else, that never works out for me. In seminary, I was not a young, single guy like most of the interns were. I was married with kids, and trying to act like that wasn’t the case would have been disastrous. With development and conference speaking, the same is true. If I try to shift and be someone else, I will not be even as good as I already might be.

So I need to do the same in BJJ. I can be average in BJJ, I might even manage to be good. I could even have a one or two amazing days in BJJ.  However, I’m not going to be consistently be at the top.

If that is true, then what do I need to do? Should I pack it up and quit BJJ? Absolutely not!  Should I push everything else out of my life and devote solely to BJJ? Maybe, but that’s not something I’m interested in. I’m not willing to sacrifice other areas of my life to pour that energy into BJJ. My career is more important to me than BJJ.

So what do I do then?

The only answer I’ve been able to come up with is to look at where I’ve come from.  I walked on the mats at Mid-America Martial Arts just shy of 3 years ago. I was out of shape, and largely uncoordinated. I went 4 months without a submission once I started sparring. Read that again. Four months!  I didn’t tap a single soul. Not other white belts, and not even the guys that started around the same time.  There were nights that I would have 10-12 rolls and get tapped out more than 20 times. I remember one night in which I was armbarred 8 straight times by different partners and different positions. I somehow managed to keep leaving my arms exposed. I remember showing up to sparring with my goal to have at least ONE session in which I didn’t get submitted. I got so close to that, tapping to an armbar with less than 5s left on the clock.

I spent quite a long period of time where the only people I was able to catch were people that started after me. Let’s be clear, I don’t mean that I tapped all the people who started after me, but rather I didn’t tap anyone that started before me. Reflecting back, I haven’t seen a whitebelt come into our school that was worse than me when I came in.

What I can say, though, is that I’m better this month than I was last month.  My transitions from one position to another is far better than they had been. I feel like I understand the importance of your hips when you’re sweeping someone. Even if I don’t always put that knowledge to use.

To put it simply, I’ve grown in BJJ.  And that, I think is the only thing I can do. It doesn’t do me any good to measure myself by someone else. Not in my career, and not in BJJ. It’s not always easy, in fact it is really difficult. But my goal has in BJJ has to be “Be better today than I was yesterday.”

Stopping at Blue

It seems the two most common times to stop BJJ are at white belt and at blue belt. White belt makes a lot of sense. You get a lot of people who want to try it out, realize it’s weird to be in such close contact with a stranger, or see that BJJ is much harder than Jacare makes it look, or find out it’s just not their thing. In some ways, it’s like everything else. Get in, try it out, see if it’s for you.

The second belt that people often quit at is blue. This one is a bit harder to understand. For most people, by the time they get to blue they’ve put in a couple years (I had around 500 hours on the mat by the time I got my blue. So it wasn’t a small investment.) But at the same time, in the grand scheme of things, it’s pretty early on.

I got my blue a little over 6 months ago. A day I will remember for quite some time. It was after a lot of hard work, and literal blood, sweat and tears (and I’m not even talking about the test.) I was pumped. I had been able to accomplish something.  I was moving up.

However, over the past couple months, I’ve started to see a bit more about why some people stop at blue. Now, as I’m typing this, I have no plans of quitting, so it’s nothing like that, but I can begin to see why some people would. But over the last 2 to 2.5 months I’ve been out of the gym twice for 2+ weeks. The first time I had ringworm on my arm, the second time we were moving. In addition to those extended absences, I also missed days here and there as we had to go look at houses on a gym night, or I had to skip a lunch time class because a client came in to our office.  During those times, I reflected and took a cue from OJ and thought “I’m not going to quit, but if I was, here’s why…”


The first reason I could see for stopping at blue is progression. When I walked on to the mat the first time, I didn’t know anything. I left at the end of that class feeling exhausted, but also excited because I had learned the steps to my first arm bar.  The next two years had lulls where I didn’t leave class feeling that way, but those days were often met with the reminder that I was getting close to my blue belt.  However, at blue belt, the wave of euphoria over learning a new skill is often gone.  I still pick up things all the time, but they’re little now.  I catch myself watching the technique thinking “Does the hand placement matter there? How important are those grips?” And so I try to notice those details, but overall the knowledge isn’t coming in huge leaps and bounds like it was at white.

Finding Where You Rank

The next reason I see people leaving at blue belt is realizing where you’re really at. It’s amazing. You just got your blue. All the 3 and 4 stripe white belts look up to you, thinking “Is it almost my time? I can’t wait.”  The 4 stripe blues and above reminisce about when they got their blue.  It’s a real feel-good time period. That lasts about a week. Then you find yourself back in sparring and you realize quickly your blue belt didn’t give you any extra powers. The same stupid mistakes you made last week in sparring, you’re making this week. That 2 or 3 stripe blue who mopped the floor with you last week? He’s mopping the floor with you this week.

In fact, in some cases, those higher belts are kicking your butt even harder than they were before. You see, when you were a white, they didn’t have to work as hard. They didn’t have to be as crafty. Now though, you’re getting better, and so they work harder which means they enjoy beating you that much more.

Time to Purple

Not only do you realize where you fit in the food chain, but you have another realization as well. Purple is soooooo far away. In fact, right after you get your blue, purple might as well be black. You have to actually be good to get your purple, whereas you might just have to be ok to get a blue.  So while you’re getting your butt kicked by the same guys, you don’t even have the luxury of looking forward to getting your purple, because it’s going to be quite a while.

Time Involved

Finally, one thing being out of the gym showed me is how much time I spend at the gym. I got home and it was still light outside. I was able to eat supper before 8:30 or 9pm. I could sit down, relax and take a few breaths, and it wasn’t already bed time.  I missed the gym during that time, but I’m not going to lie, it was nice having some nights off.  As you near blue belt, it seems to consume you more, you spend more time at the gym. So when you have a night off, it’s even more of a break than a normal night off. That can be seductive to some people.

Like I said, none of these are reasons for me to quit, but I do understand how any one of them, or a combination of them, could see someone stop at blue belt.