(Author’s note: I stayed up late to write this entry so that a certain someone would have something to read with her morning coffee.)
Absolution:
Recovery is as slow as I expected. I’ve had to tell my training partners to watch out for my ribs and not to put too much pressure on me when we’re rolling. I forget once and Coach Nick demonstrates the knee-to-belly position on me. The scream that escapes from me is similar to that of a small child when they stub their toe on a rock. That, I am informed, is an example of a ‘verbal’ tap out. The combination of Coach’s chagrin and my shameful scream is enough for me to never forget to communicate thoroughly about injuries again.
One of the things that I notice is that despite the inherently violent nature of jiu jitsu (the goals of the sport include choking someone unconscious or bending their joints until they give up), very few of the practitioners enjoy inflicting pain. In Coach Nick’s case, he’s actually pretty worked up that he hurt me. I reassure him that it was my responsibility, but I can tell that he is upset. I promise him that I will do better at informing my partners of my infirmity and this seems to mollify him to a certain degree.
I spent far too much of my life trying to hide things about myself. Things that I thought would diminish me in the eyes of others – like, for instance, when I would be injured or sick. I was so concerned that others would think me unreliable or incapable that I would lie to them and even to myself in order to save face. I am starting to see now that I did myself and my friends, colleagues, and family a disservice with this dishonesty. This situation with my coach is not an example of deliberate dissembling, but it still highlights the effects of poor communication with those who rely on you or that you rely on or care about. I vow to own this and not make the same mistake twice.
An extremely beneficial side effect of my injury is that it slows me down. I am forced to use the techniques we are learning because my strength has been sapped and my speed has been hamstrung. A whole new side of training is revealing itself as I start to understand that I’m doing more than just working out and building up a sweat when I come to class. I am learning a foundation that is fundamental to progress in jiu jitsu. The intricacies of what I thought was a very simplistic move (the double leg smash pass) start to become understandable when I have to slow it down and really think about them. Coach Tom’s references to applied power through the use of technique start to make sense.
I do believe my game is changing. So is how I look at myself. No more lies. It takes more than words to make something true. Walk the walk, Dan.
Oh, and I also need to buy a bike. Riding the bus everywhere is getting old fast. Court date for my DUI is coming up soon.
Dan, I think your reference to slowing down and having to really think about the technical components in sports/skills, is vitally important, rather it be jiu jitsu, olympic lifting, etc. It took an injury to reveal this to you, but as you said, it was the beginning of changing 'your game'. It is so easy to rush through the process, that we miss the important details that will enable us to make the gains we want to achieve. Nice article...thanks!
ReplyDeleteDon't forget the helmet when riding that bike! :)
In Aikido we tell the beginners that their first test can be dead slow. Like molasses. You're going to get faster as you get better, but if you go 100 mph out of the gate, you don't leave yourself room room to improve.
ReplyDeleteAlso, a lot of these moves don't need speed. If you do it right, the guy is helpless the whole way through, so you can take your time, cinch things up, get it all nice and tight, and then move on to the next step.