Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. A few weeks ago, I earned my black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and I wanted to reflect on that today.
I started wrestling when I was 5 years old. I have been grappling in one form or another for most of my life. For all intents and purposes, I have been throwing other people around, and getting thrown around myself, for longer than I have done any other activity in my life.
It’s kind of weird to think about it that way. I went to school from kindergarten, all the way up through a masters degree, but I have still spent more years on the mats than in a classroom.
I’ve only been working a real job (if you can even call flying an airplane a real job) since I was 18. Again less time than I’ve spent manipulating sweaty bodies.
Earning a black belt was never something I sought out or aspired to. In fact, growing up as a wrestler, I thought they were kind of a joke.
Every martial artist thinks their art is the toughest, and their gym is the best, and wrestlers are no exception. But, wrestling doesn’t have any belts, so the idea always seemed silly to me.
Even when I transitioned to Jiu Jitsu, the idea of belts seemed less important, and mote symbolic than anything. With so much wrestling experience, my white belt in Jiu Jitsu quickly became a point of frustration for my training partners.
Even as a blue belt and a purple belt, I would have lots of frustrated peers in the gym comparing themselves to my belt color without the understanding that thousand of hours of wrestling weren’t factored in to the rankings.
I started teaching and instructing as a brown belt, and any of those misconceptions that had existed before, melted away quickly.
Even when I received my black belt, and I knew the honor was coming, I wasn’t sure what it meant to me. I knew I would be asked to speak, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.
I said some thank yous to my coaches, my mother, my family, and my teammates and training partners. I talked about how wrestling and Jiu Jitsu have been a release for me. A safe place to de stress and decompress. To get out of my own head and out of my own way. Serenity Through Sweat.
I felt that my remarks after receiving my black belt were inadequate. I was unprepared to explain not just what it meant to me, but what grappling has done for me, what it has taught me, and how it has shaped me.
Thankfully, I have this space, to explore and share those thoughts. I also have, hopefully, many more years on the mats to share those thoughts and the knowledge gained with anyone who will train with me.
My biggest takeaway from grappling, the thing that I learned on the mats through blood, sweat, and tears across three decades, that yranslates so well to everything ends in life: progress is not linear.
If you put in the work, really put it the work, doing the right things, you will make progress.
Sometimes, that progress comes in leaps and bounds, slowly and then all at once. Those are the magical moments we remember. When something finally clicks and we level up.
Sometimes progress does come in a steady trickle. You grind out the reps you are supposed to and are rewarded in kind.
A lot of the time though, certainly more than we would like, progress is infintecimally small. What seemed at one point like a steady climb becomes filled with plateaus and false peaks.
It is easy to feel like you are treading water or stuck in a rut.
I can’t tell you how many times across my grappling career I have felt stuck. How many times I didn’t know if I could improve or how. How many times i thought i had leveled up, only to be humbled and feel like I was starting from scratch again.
My senior year in high school, coming off championships the previous two years, I didn’t score a single takedown on my main training partner in the practice room all year. Not one
I still went on to win the state championship that year and advance further than I had previously. A whole year of treading water in the practice room. Feeling like I wasn’t making any progress, but my persistence was rewarded in the end.
Im reminded of the scene in Catch Me If You Can (obviously a favorite of pilots who wished they looled half as cool as frank abagnail jr strutting through the terminal flanked by attractive young flight attendants)
Frank’s father gives a speech about two mice thrown into a bucket of cream. One mouse struggles so hard, he churns the cream into butter, and crawls out.
Treading water, but making progress. It certainly wasn’t linear, but rather slowly, and then all at once.
That’s how I feel about my black belt, and that is the lesson I hope to pass on to other grapplers, and to my boys, wether they choose to follow me ontonthe mats or not.
Progress isn’t linear. But, if you keep struggling, keep churning, keep climbing the mountain through the false peaks and plateaus, you will find the summit.
The journey is a worthy endeavor, and there is plentynof serenity to be found along the way.
Thanks for joining me. Stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.
