Although this is me in my NoGi gear (including my bad ass Captain America Super Soldier rashguard),
Although this is me in my NoGi gear (including my bad ass Captain America Super Soldier rashguard), I’m going to tell you the story of my Gi win:In my first tournament, I came into the day 5 lbs overweight, and spent the 4 hours before my bracket wrapped in a trash bag and 3 layers of clothes, running, trying to sweat the weight off. I was already insanely nervous, and now I was tired and dehydrated. I barely made weight*, just as they called my bracket, then stumbled into the staging area. I left the staging area, barely 20 minutes later, having been submitted twice, quickly, and received my “Congratulations, you woke up this morning” bronze metal. I was defeated, and frustrated, and didn’t want to hear the encouraging words my training partners were telling me.“You went out and competed, you already won!”“There are millions of people that never even try, but you did, the outcome doesn’t matter”Yeah right, tell that to my ego.It took me a long time to get my head in the right place again. Lots of training. Lots of work. In that time things began to click. I started seeing sequences, from one position to the next. I stopped panicking, and learned to control my breathing. I found the beginnings of “my game”.It was time for a test.I decide that the Five Grappling Texas 2 tournament was that test.The time leading up to the tournament was spent working on a plan, with my coach, and my team. From stand-up to submission, and every position in between. I knew what I wanted to do, and how I wanted to do it.The day of the tournament went a lot better than the first tournament. I made weight easily (I hadn’t gained any weight since the last tournament, and had actually lost weight), so I didn’t have to worry about fatigue or dehydration. I was ready.My training partners, both the ones that were there, and the ones texting me, reminded me that we had worked hard to prepare, and that I was going to do great.I was calm as I stepped on to the mat.I bowed to the ref, bumped fists with my opponent, and then, all hell broke loose.I can’t remember exactly what happened, it was a blur, but I do remember ending up on my back, with my opponent in mount, putting me down 6 points. NOT a good start.Immediately doubt flooded in. A panicked voice rose up in my head and began telling me I wasn’t ready. This is just like the last tournament. I was going to lose. I didn’t train hard enough. I was wasting my time.Then, silence. Just silence. No new voice telling me that I COULD do this, that I DID train hard enough. Nothing. Just silence.And the sound of my own breathing. My own calm, even breathing. Instinct had taken over.I had trained for this, this was all a part of the plan. Maybe not the failed stand-up to mount, but I had been in that position before, and I knew what to do.I bumped hard, and got under him, disrupting his base. With him off balance, I was able to sweep him and end up in his guard. This was good, I could work with this.I was still down 6 points, so resting was not an option. I immediately worked a pressure pass, forcing his legs down, and slid into side control.3 points. Good, but not enough.Next task was knee-on-belly, I needed the points, but he fought me hard, he wasn’t going to let me knee ride him to victory. That’s okay, I’m better at going straight to mount anyway.He had been so focused on my knee pressing down on him, that when I eased the pressure, he relaxed just enough for me to slide my leg through.4 points. I was winning! But there was still plenty of time left in the match, I couldn’t stop now.At this point in training, I had struggled. Going to mount had become fairly easy for me, but once I got there, I would get stuck. My first instinct is to go for the arm, but my training partners protected their arms, and didn’t roll to their sides.Fortunately he DID roll to his side. As soon as he did, I sat on his shoulder, got a figure four grip on his wrist, threw my leg over his face, and leaned towards his head and back.He fought, desperately trying to pull his arm free. I realized that I wasn’t going to submit him holding on with the figure four, so I let go, and went to the straight arm-lock.As soon as I did that, his arm was mine, and so was gold.Validation. I think that’s the best part of winning. I wasn’t wasting my time, my partners’ time, or my coach’s time. I was learning, bettering myself. As I stood on the medal podium, I was beyond happy. The stream of messages from my training partners reminded me that I hadn’t been out there alone, that I had a crew behind me. All I wanted to do was jump down, show them my medal, and thank them for helping me get to that point.*I was literally rocking on the digital scale, making it show half a pound over, on weight, half a pound over. When it showed on weight, I looked at the guy and said “come on man!” He gave me a smirk, and let me go -- source link
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