The first thing I did when I returned to Singapore earlier this year, was join a new martial arts gym. I needed to get my mind off pole for a bit, and become a complete stranger in a new place where people didn’t know too much about me to have to ask too many questions. I had trained with some folk from this gym a few times last year, but never really made the commitment to become a member till that moment.
So, new martial arts gym, which meant new BJJ class, teammates, and instructor. I enjoyed the process of being a new kid on the block, getting acquainted with a group of very warm, friendly, and helpful classmates. The team was hardcore. They drilled and sparred rough, giving their everything, helping each other with no obligation, and finishing each class dripping wet in perspiration. It was a culture shock considering I came from a gym which was so air-conditioned that no one ever sweat a drop… and being a little rough was frowned upon because it was a pretty self-preserving culture there.
One with the new team. Come to think of it, it might be the only team I’ve ever been in.
So I loved the vibe of the team in this new gym. But the one thing I was really afraid of was – committing myself to progressing in the class. I kept my demeanour casual and fun and playful like I usually do on a social setting, but I was too insecure or shy to ask my teammates to spar with me or help me in sticky positions. I guess the fear and insecurity came from being a student to someone who constantly downplayed my interest for Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, probably thinking I was just in the class to laugh with the girls and ogle at him (LOL!… no?). I was never told how I could improve on my techniques, and when I once asked how to execute a certain sweep from the bottom, the response I received was, “Why do you want to know this? Take your time man.” The time never came, and this particular instructor paid more attention to some other students whom he deemed were ‘better and more serious’ at the sport than I was. Over time, I grew to be constantly fearful of trying anything new, or asking anyone for help in Jiu Jitsu. Whenever I was made to spar with someone who intimidated me, I would become a dead fish, much to the frustration of my partner.
So after my pole competitions I spoke to a couple of trusted buddies from my new team, who encouraged me to work harder at BJJ and…. try out for the upcoming local BJJ competition. I’m not sure why or how, but I agreed to it. I guess it was something I felt like I would need to do to cross that hurdle of being afraid and weak, to put the bad memories I had with my previous BJJ coach behind me, and to truly make this sport mine. Besides, I was tired of not being taken seriously by my team.
And so the preparation and training began a couple of weeks ago. I then realised how much of a breeze pole competitions are – because they have absolutely nothing on a martial arts competition training process! Because I literally slacked off on training for the past couple of months, it felt pretty crazy going from near-zero to absolute beast mode. Every training night, I felt like I was about to pass out from sheer exhaustion. And then there’s the weight cut – which felt like slow death in the first week because I loooooove to eat.
But two weeks in and I can see how consistency makes a huge difference. I feel my stamina and control improving with each sparring session I add into my training, even though I still feel like either throwing up or bursting into overwhelmed tears towards the last few rolls. And after gritting my teeth and telling myself to enjoy my all-new carbless diet (sobs!!), I finally see and feel the effects of much cleaner eating, like a better complexion and feeling energised all day, but most importantly, weight loss!
I’m not entirely sure if I’m all ready to compete in a BJJ tournament, given my current abilities and experience. But the process so far has taught me that it’s not just about improving my BJJ skills, but it’s also a test of endurance, patience, and discipline. I’m learning to push myself physically in a way that pole dancing wouldn’t do, and to keep going even when I feel like I have nothing left in me. It’s also looking my past bad experiences in the eye and giving them a big Screw You.
At the end of the day it’s not about whether I win anything during the tournament itself. The real opponent in this entire experience is really my whole bunch of old fears. But guess what? I have proven over the past few weeks that I can conquer them.
11 more days to Competition Day!
