My Life as a White Belt - Frustration

(Author’s note:  This entry is dedicated to a friend with the hope that they can find some reassurance and comfort in it knowing that they are not alone.)

Frustration:

                If you’ve ever seen a bulldog in a fight with another animal then you are probably familiar with the incredible amount of damage they can take while putting themselves in a position to lock their teeth onto their prey’s skin and work their way up into a killing position.  Even if you haven’t, you can probably imagine the amount of perseverance and fortitude it must take for them to accomplish their goal.  This is not a tale of perseverance and fortitude.  This is what it is like to be on the other side of that locked jaw.   

                I step out onto the mat with forearms still burning from my first match.  I had overgripped and now I was paying the price.  I had watched my upcoming opponent dismantle his adversary in his first match.  It might have taken him forty seconds or so.  Even so, I feel like I am faster than him and should be able to use the techniques I’ve learned to overcome his advantages. 

These concerns fly out of my brain as we touch hands and begin our battle.  We latch onto each other in the classic fifty/fifty grip – my right hand on his left lapel and left hand on his right sleeve; him with the same on me.  We test each other mightily, throwing our bodies around the mat with neither of us gaining much advantage.  His grips are like iron!  Even two on one I have a difficult time forcing him to release my lapel.  He seizes an opening and tries to throw me using a seoi nage – one of the few judo techniques I’ve actually learned to defend up to this point.  I drop my center of gravity as he tries to pull me over and I am able to duck under his arm and get to side control. 

                My lack of experience begins to shine through at this point.  He quickly snags one of my legs with his and draws me into half guard while pulling one of my sleeves across my body.  Before I know it, he is taking my back!  I protect my neck and try everything I know how to escape.  I peel his hands from collar and try to drive under his hooks to no avail.  Precious seconds tick by.  Coach Aaron keeps me updated on the score, so I am well aware that I am behind.  I must find a way to get him off my back.  Every time I succeed in pulling one of his limbs away and creating some daylight, another one slips in to slam the door. 

                Thirty seconds left – I dig deep for any reserve of energy hidden within.  I find nothing.  My arms are dead.  My breathing is labored and hampered even more by the fact that my opponent now has me face-down on the mat, still with his legs laced around mine and driving his hips into the base of my lungs.  Ten, nine, eight, seven…  I struggle feebly as time expires.  Defeat.

                I lie on the mat with eyes closed and wonder what I did wrong.  My opponent helps me to my feet and congratulates me on a good contest, much like I had done for my previous foe.  I am disappointed.  Frustrated.  I worked hard and came up short of my ultimate goal.  As they raise the other man’s hand, my coach tells me about the good things that I had done; a bit hard to swallow, but I am grateful for the lack of criticism at this point. 

                My thoughts drift for a moment to my stepsons.  I remember very clearly the day I left them.  It seemed like the only way I could escape the drama that their mother was bringing to my door on an almost daily basis was to get far away.  I was unhealthy and needed a respite, but it meant leaving them behind.  On that day I felt more defeated and frustrated than I have ever felt in my entire life… including right now.  This pales in comparison, but it gives me another chance to face a challenge and get through it.  I still feel like I failed my boys, but that doesn’t mean that I have to give in every time something gets hard.  Life is hard, sometimes.  It is how we handle adversity that is the true measure of our spirit, our humanity.

                My teammates and coaches congratulate me on my silver medal and use kind words to bring my chin up.  I resolve in this moment to train harder, learn as quickly as I can, and know that the next time I step on the mat for competition that I have no excuses for losing.  For now though, I have a long car ride back to Portland to think about failure and stifled goals.  Next time, things will be different.