Soaked in sweat, having skipped my normal post-class chats with my teammates, I walked out to my truck muttering these very words. I know that I am not alone here. If you practice anything for an extended period of time, you get to a point in your development when expectation and reality clash. This is the topic of this week’s post.
The Blue Belt Blues
It is common knowledge in the Jiu Jitsu community that once an individual gets their blue belt, they will inevitably get abducted either by aliens, gypsies, or men with mustaches in white conversion vans. For the uninitiated, what I am getting at is that they either no longer show up to practice or their attendance becomes sporadic. Attaining a Jiu Jitsu blue belt is no easy feat. White belts spend a year, two years, sometimes more getting twisted and stretched with a single purpose. Survival. So why do they find themselves all getting abducted just because the color of a piece of cloth has changed? I can’t really answer this from experience, but my theory is that the added pressure of a colored belt brings with it an ego driven fear of getting tapped by a ‘lesser’ belt. Which would somehow invalidate all the hard work they had put in up to this point. While I was aware of the aliens, gypsies, and white vans, the color of my belt never really mattered. It still doesn’t. What matters most to me is improvement. Which brings us to Sweaty Teddy swearing on the way to his truck still wearing his cup.
That Big Freakin’ Pile of Rocks
Analogies for life come in all shapes and sizes. In this case, it came in the form of 3 inch river rock, roughly 5 cubic yards of it. This amounts to a pile about 5 feet tall. A big freakin’ pile of rocks that I will shovel into a wheel barrow and spread out around my house in the landscape beds. I can appreciate it is a good problem to have. I decided that the best approach to avoid triggering my back would be to do smaller loads for not more than 30 minutes at a time. Unlike my typical approach which is work until its gone at all costs. I can report no back pain, but I can also report having muttered the words, “I f****** hate this rock pile.” It has been just a handful of days, and I went out this morning to notice the rock pile was getting noticeably smaller. Not by a lot. But smaller all the same.
My approach to Jiu Jitsu has been much the same as the freakin’ rock pile. Consistency has trumped intensity, and each class I attend is one, half-full, wheel barrow’s worth of rocks. When you’re shoveling the rocks, which I will say completely sucks because of their size, it is very easy to get frustrated. On this particular day of Jiu Jitsu practice, I was getting a good dose of humility from newer, younger, stronger teammates. What amounted to shoveling the rocks into the wheel barrow and having it tip over. Shoveling them back into the wheel barrow again, only to have it tip over a second, third, and fourth time. Frustration sets in. And now you’re sweaty, still wearing your cup, cursing out yourself and your endeavor as you leave the gym. It happens. The expectation was that my technique would overcome their misguided testosterone driven attacks. The reality was quite to the contrary. At least on this particular day. Spilled rocks.
Coming to Terms with the Freakin’ Rock Pile
It took a little wisdom from my Coach to remind me to step back away from the rock pile and to walk around to the back to the house where the rocks had been spread. The pretty, smooth rocks filled the space nicely, and I was happy with the progress. Actually very happy. Improvement was being made where it truly mattered and that is the real measure of success. I have to accept that the wheel barrow may tip over every now and again. Progress is not about making the big freakin’ pile of rocks smaller. They are just a means to an end, which is filling those empty spaces with the pretty, smooth rocks. If I want to continue to get better, I’ll have to order more rocks. And yes, that means more tipped wheel barrows. So be it. Maybe those new blue belts forgot to order a new pile of rocks?
I F****** Love Jiu Jitsu.
Until next time…
Ted