Epic morning class yesterday. Nothing but me and 3 decidedly stronger, kinetically fascinating fellas. I knew it was going to be a rough day of being brutalized, but it had it's good points...
perhaps the one I am most looking forward to pursuing was the notion of logging hundreds, thousands of reps of just one move. Muscle memory is something I am a huge fan of, but finding willing participants of the notion of "repping it out" is extremely challenging. None of us seem to be granted any really solid attention span, in spite of being quasi-obsessed with BJJ. This is to be expected in the high school to college age boys, but what excuse have I?
this idea came up between my instructor and the first guy who showed up -- apparently the notion coming from team lloyd irvin? -- that logging a metric shit-ton of reps is a way to become really, really good. Makes sense to me. The trick, again, is finding someone who is willing to actually do the work.
I would consider getting a grappling dummy were it not for fear of faulty speculations should something happen, I die, and when people came to go through my belongings, found the dummy and assumed perversion. What a sucky tombstone that would make. "here lies timmyle, we found her stuffed lifesize man, and wtf?!"
anyhow, I know of only one person obsessed enough to do this, and unfortunately we only share one common day of the week for classes.
that was going well until additional people started finally showing up. then it naturally turned into round robin. fine. I'm still making my peace with round robin, king of the hill, whatever. I was with people who at least let me work some, which was cool, aside from the mental roadblock of the whole patronizing nature of it. Yes I realize I can't have it both ways. It's just annoying.
then even later strong wrestler type boy shows up. He missed the part where I asked "hey turn it down a notch or two, huh?" as he proceeded to do what wrestlers do: go apeshit crazy. I mean that with respect. Part of me is really jealous that I can't impose my will like that.
I hate those rolls. I go back to defend defend defend. Which I now seem to pair with a good measure of oh, you want to see who's stubborn? Sorry, but I'm not tapping to a half ass brabo. If I'm not losing oxygen/blood flow to my brain, nope it ain't happening. This guy had been decidedly selfish, so I decided to return favor.
go ahead, crank on my neck to and fro. squeeze your arms with all your might. That arm isn't under my neck, hell it's not even across my chin. You go ahead and flood your oversized, purty muscles with lactic acid. I ain't tapping. I am, however, going to enjoy watching you struggle against someone your own size next round-- with tired arms. Enjoy a taste of your own medicine.
I hate having an attitude like that, I know it's poor. At one point, as I was being sloppily flattened out with a decidedly ridiculous level of intensity, I said "hey, congrats. you're strong." I'm sure the insult was lost. I don't know, I should probably look at this as the fella respected me enough to go hard instead of be the limp rag roll (which I detest more than the roid rage roll, believe me), but damn.
I'm writing it off as "it's just the way it is" and trying to not let it affect me so much. The mindset of "resistance is futile" only feeds that perpetual defense mode thing I complain of.
At least I got some clutch advice -- I finally was told what it was I was doing that kept getting me armbarred or triangled from standing guard pass (I'm sure my regular training partners are going to be bummed), and given what was quite possibly the most hilarious and true suggestion:
from the mouth of Bowman, "stop being so nice"
I almost forgot the award winning part of yesterday's hayelp!-fest: I dealt with some really, really strong individuals, gave it as much as I could until things started getting sore and pulled, tried to enact some offense on occasion, and didn't experience any pain from my wrist. I think it's healed. I think if it weren't healing/healed, yesterday would have pointed out the weaknesses. It's weaker, my hand gets tired (an odd sensation), my grip isn't what it used to be, but those are all workwithable things.
game on. hell yeah.