Great job
Winning is great it is not to downplay the achievements one can have winning medals, but it really is secondary to the wisdom and insight you get about yourself and others.
You walk through hell and you conquered yourself, and you make it work. And so just showing up is one hell of an achievement. Not something one should take lightly. You've done something most people don't dare do- And that is throwing yourself with lions and lionesses.
Teammate story from tonight /
Start Cooper made this doc with Robson Moura years ago, where he talks about how he would always just be the worst in tournaments and how he had no success, and how he really eventually came into his own;
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWKvBzcL7PI
I'm thinking of this because at tonights training one of my training partners is a guy called Anders, and he had trained for 7 years before he got his Blue Belt. He is the only guy i've seen our instructor get genuinely frustrated at. For all the time I've known him, it seemed like Anders was slow-dimwitted and had no flair at all for BJJ.
He seemed unhinged, unintelligent and had this groggy way of talking past others. Like he'd be on a different frequency. As you can imagine his confidence wasn't high, but everyone liked him because he was sweet as a kitten and really meant well. He just didn't have have sense of visual learning. He just wouldn't get it. We'd see a move and when being paired up with Anders he just wouldn't get it. We'd spend 15 minutes just doing a relatively simple move.
No Anders that's a bull pass. No, the other leg. No' grip the collar. Yes, no- pull that-
So over the years I've known Anders his ability to show up have flucturated. Sometimes I won't see him for 3 weeks, and this is one of the kings that betrays the question "how long have you trained". Anders started 9 years ago, but Anders has probably not more than 2-3 years of a dedicated attendance. Showing up only once or every so often is just not enough to see real growth.
Then over the last 5-6 months, I started seeing Anders more and more. He'd be there 2-3 times a week and suddenly he was beginning to give some real resistance. He got this wacky guard with hypermobile rubber knees, where he is incredible awkward trying to sweep or pass his guard. And he just got so good so fast, and now- in mere months it's reached a point where he is giving me trouble.
And so I asked him what was up, because he seemed like a completely different person, and he basically explained that he was diagnosed with a form epilepsi. It turns out that Anders wasn't slow or dim witted or just didn't get it, but that he is out for micro seconds.
All his life doctors have tried to diagnose him- he has been to asylums because they thought he was weird, he has seen many neurologists and psychologists, and cardiologists trying to figure out. And all his life, people have judged him and labelled him, but since he has been on medication, he is like a different person and it really shows when rolling with him.
He is still the humble, warm guy who wouldnt hurt a fly. And Anders is still goofy. He reminds me of Donald Duck in a variant that doesn't get mad.
I'm not friends with him outside of BJJ. We don't hang out elsewhere but we've spent hundreds of hours together on the mat and I guess over the years people just become you're friends. It's hard not to. Try not to become friends with people at a place like this. There is almost just no way!
Anders like Robson was the bottom of the food chain in a martial arts with hard free sparring where you really feel it if you don't adapt. A lot of people would have quit, which is why it fascinates me when I meet people who don't. As I get older I find that it is often unlikely people who don't quit.
I've personally quit many things over my life, and I've seen talented young people who it came easy to- They could have gotten to a real high level, but they sort of sometimes take it for granted. There are things I take for granted and that I've quit which came easier to me due to my privilege, the help I got, the advantages I have. It feels good to be appreciative. We can do these things, but many people can't. Millions of people have bodies that are ruined and broken and they will never be able to use it. That sense of not taking it for granted to use your body to its full potential in the short while you have it seems scary. Your body is like a rent-a-car. you don't get to keep it, so be sure to drive it to its fullest with no regrets. For me it also means that if I should get a injury that would stop or inhibit me from ever doing BJJ again, I'd not feel regret because I know I didn't take it for granted and I got the most of it while I had the chance. I feel it takes off some of the anxiety.
