tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39957322250518320712024-03-23T06:14:45.765-04:00Shark Girl BJJShark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-54050621399674765862021-09-20T19:22:00.003-04:002021-09-20T19:22:56.437-04:00Shark Girl Is Ready to Pull the Plug on Her "New" Gym<p>I need your jiu jitsu therapy again, o vast and all-knowing readers. </p><p>About a year Before Covid (BC), my native gym closed down--the one where I trained from a lowly white belt, made great friends, and found my stride. </p><p>Eight months BC, I decided on a <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2019/09/" target="_blank">new gym.</a> I worried that I wouldn't fit in. I was a brown-belt, dare I say over-promoted by my laissez-faire gym environment that focused more on training consistently with pals then going for the gold. To be sure, I welcomed a more challenging environment. I wanted to improve. I set my ego off the mat, tied on my brown belt (because it's rude not to), and hopped into a competition-focused gym. I gave it my all until covid.</p><p>I went to every class, stayed until the end and, despite getting home late, took copious notes on techniques, drills, even the partners I was rolling with. I wanted to make this <i>work</i>.</p><p>My new coaches were great teachers. They had solid techniques that were not super flashy but worked. They gave me some good advice to improve. And then . . .</p><p>Covid hit. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpI_9-JeHzf2FCPItisuNhFHMEevqpLXyXyR0PU_2hccNCK6ZfzqewQk6gL82hNyQRzdBPssd6_D1fK1ve1M9mIFQy0vXRSQByErudM5mykoIFtjjy7SLYr1eT5BE9SOAH-bZqMAG3VY/s640/%25D0%25A1oronavirus._SARS-CoV-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpI_9-JeHzf2FCPItisuNhFHMEevqpLXyXyR0PU_2hccNCK6ZfzqewQk6gL82hNyQRzdBPssd6_D1fK1ve1M9mIFQy0vXRSQByErudM5mykoIFtjjy7SLYr1eT5BE9SOAH-bZqMAG3VY/w200-h200/%25D0%25A1oronavirus._SARS-CoV-2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p>This isn't a story about covid. So I'll just skip along to the After Covid (AC) period.</p><p>I went back to classes this summer, ready to pick up where I left off. My goal was to get better with each class and not worry about my belt, how I compare to others--all that shit. I'm fifty-one after all. I just want to have some fun with a sport I love.</p><p>But now I am realizing that, every class, I feel like a disappointment to this group. I feel like they are embarrassed that they inherited a brown belt that isn't up to their standards. Honestly I feel like it would be a load off their shoulders if I leave. </p><p>So, I think that's what I am going to do. There is one other gym in the area that I am looking into for a little later, Post Delta (PD), or whatever variant comes along. (My family is covid shy, so I might as well wait.)</p><p>Other than that, a buddy of mine has a few mats and we are going to roll intermittently. If you have any other ideas, I am open. </p><p>Those of you who have been reading along know how hard I have fought against leaving jiu jitsu. I hope this is not the end. But if it is, it's been a good ride.</p>Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-2989948505539107252021-07-07T16:45:00.000-04:002021-07-07T16:45:01.174-04:00 It’s A Dick Move--Or Is It?<p><i>This was my first night back on the mats post-Covid lockdown.</i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Last night I rolled with a new white belt, one month in.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What do you want to work on?” I asked.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Breaking the guard and getting to side control,” New White Belt replied.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>NWB seems about thirty, not too tall, not too short. Average build, maybe a little meaty. I would guess he’s about 160-170 pounds.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well, that will be easy to do on me.” My stubby legs usually they pop open with no resistance.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wrapped my legs around NWB, barely connecting my feet together. NWB took a deep breath, stared at the ceiling, went over the breaking-guard steps in his head as he carefully postured up, slid his knee into my posterior, stretched away. My ankles snapped open. I resisted the urge to activate my open guard—this was <i>his</i> learning experience, after all. I waited patiently as he transitioned to side control, leaving gaps large enough to drive a truck through.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>NWB worked to side control and exhaled.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That was good!” I encouraged him.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah?”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Yeah. Now you gotta work on your spacing. I could have escaped while you were passing.”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I demonstrated how to keep his knee close to the hip on a punch-through, how to underhook the opposite arm, and how to transition his other knee under the shoulder.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He tried again, maneuvering a little better this time. As he settled into the position he asked,</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Now, what’s that thing you do where you crush the person’s jaw?”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnrcHRGur0j5xl71fHW4KTpysQu-gCkf6Vaq35EumTM4YXXuFyAVHaJQDIlN9uM_K7BpbKwT9w6m_nOlAckc3mQ7Nd9AN_-PXPKqmkUc22K6g5yxu_cuKULrFP5GbEpv24wloMfjzxMf4/s720/gentle+art.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="720" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnrcHRGur0j5xl71fHW4KTpysQu-gCkf6Vaq35EumTM4YXXuFyAVHaJQDIlN9uM_K7BpbKwT9w6m_nOlAckc3mQ7Nd9AN_-PXPKqmkUc22K6g5yxu_cuKULrFP5GbEpv24wloMfjzxMf4/w200-h200/gentle+art.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span> </span>“Oh?” I replied, not eager for a jaw crushing just then.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You know, with your shoulder?”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The thought of his extra 60+ pounds driving into my jaw made me say what I said next:</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That’s kind of a dick move.”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He seemed shocked. “Oh, it is? I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Some of the purple belts have been showing me how to really crush someone’s jaw when you’re in this position.”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Oh the </i>purple<i> </i>belts<i> have been showing you?</i> I thought maybe he had seen it on YouTube. But he was learning it from my teammates. I didn’t want to dis them. I also don’t want to end up with a broken jaw when this guy spazzes out during sparring. So I regrouped.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Oh, I see. Well, with me, it would be kind of a dick move, because you are twice my size. You don’t need to do that to control me. But, if you were rolling with that guy over there,” I jerked my thumb toward to our resident 260-pound black-bear of a mat-mate, “You might need to do that to keep him down.”</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I went into side control on NWB and gently crushed his jaw.</p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It’s like this: in Jiu Jitsu you want to expend the least amount of energy necessary to control your opponent. If you can do it without the jaw crush, you should.”</p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">So, here’s my working definition, folks: <i>a Dick Move is when you use more force than you need to in order to control your opponent.</i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlygLmolEn0C-c_0u890s54ZGawasZruOWZy-P9qs_RNVgsBD647yKl6AGz8TBnWwH_WIV97PLNr6P6L1SP1wD9xoIXvMxspZqAJXUj5JRuOFJH7_yyTdgMKRLxwcMalie4pwR-ec00c8/s678/elbows+into+thighs.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="452" data-original-width="678" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlygLmolEn0C-c_0u890s54ZGawasZruOWZy-P9qs_RNVgsBD647yKl6AGz8TBnWwH_WIV97PLNr6P6L1SP1wD9xoIXvMxspZqAJXUj5JRuOFJH7_yyTdgMKRLxwcMalie4pwR-ec00c8/s320/elbows+into+thighs.jpeg" width="320" /></a></i></div>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">Do you have other ways to define a Dick Move? When is it all-is-fair Jiu Jitsu, and when is it a DM? When is someone calling something a Dick Move actually a Dick Move on <i>their</i> part?</p>Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-44209527934203206312021-04-20T19:50:00.003-04:002021-04-20T19:50:57.795-04:00Coaches: 13 Ways to Get (and Keep) More Women in Your BJJ Classes<p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Most of the time I am the only woman at my gym. Every now and then, a pair of women will come in, stay for a bit, move on. Sometimes a singleton will brave a class or two. Most do not stay. Let’s face it, most guys do not stay, either, am I right? You have to be a special kind of person to enjoy being smushed repeatedly, miserably punished, striving bleakly to overcome the gargantuan dude crushing your thorax.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> But, some guys </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">do </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">stay. Almost </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">all </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">girls leave. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Perhaps it is their acculturation--it’s not </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">nice to beat </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">people up. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I know I had to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“unlearn” that. But if jiu jitsu is about the smaller person overcoming the bigger and stronger person, who needs it more than the ovaried sex? So, coaches, what can we do to keep the ladies? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First, you have to really want ladies in your gym.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Most of you will reflexively say, “Of course I do!” But, do you </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> want them at your gym as equal participants? That answer should be yes, because women are paying customers. If you do not welcome women, you have a 51% smaller customer pool to draw from. Once you decide that you really want women to be an equal part of your gym, the rest of these tips can help you keep them.</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Welcome them. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This sounds easy. But remember when I called a gym to visit and the coach told me that <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2011/08/shark-girl-rejected.html" target="_blank">women weren't interested in BJJ</a>? For sure <i>he's</i> not going to get any women in the door, never mind to stay at his his gym. And he seemed okay with that (<i>See #1, above</i>). But you</span> don’t have to say something like that out loud for his attitude to come across. Welcoming women is reflected in all of the other tips here. When a woman walks into your gym, don’t think, “Oh, she’ll never stay.” Think, “This woman is interested in BJJ. How can I make her feel welcome?”</li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Give them space</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. What does your changing area look like? You don’t necessarily need a separate area for women, but you should offer an equally comfortable environment for both gals and guys. For example, if you have a locker room for the guys and a closet with a shower curtain for the ladies, that does not broadcast that you want women in your gym. </span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Take women seriously. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One coach made me grapple with a dummy instead of pairing me with a partner. I had another coach for whom I was an afterthought. He focused on the men in the gym and rarely rolled with me. Still another never put me with newcomers, even though I was one of the highest belts. I think he was worried that a new guy coming to a BJJ class was expecting to work with a beefy, skin-headed, tattooed man, not a ferociously petite, middle-aged mom. I get that he wanted to portray his gym as legit and masculine. But this made me question my own ability—</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">did he think I wasn’t good enough?</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Years later I realized it was him, not me, but the damage to my BJJ ego was done. Make sure you support your women in your words and your actions. Your students will follow your lead, positive or negative.</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Actively foster their growth.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I am very aware that I am </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">different</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in a BJJ class. Therefore, I am more self-conscious. I don’t want to cause waves or appear to be a complainer. So, coaches, watch how women are rolling and offer tips and suggestions. Tell them what they are good at (See #9) and give them areas to improve. Pair them with the appropriate partners who will help them develop their skills (<i>See #8</i>) </span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Don’t “see” sex.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I know, I know. We all see it. What I mean is, make decisions based on the sport, not gender. Don’t partner the girls in the gym together just because they are girls. Partner them because they are the right partners for each other. One time I was paired with a much larger woman who did not know how to roll with small people. She hurt my shoulder during a practice throw. It is still tweaked. She wasn’t the best partner for me, even though she was female. Of course, initially some women may feel uncomfortable sparring with men. A good coach should have an open conversation with newcomers about how the gym works and what their expectations are. Some men have restrictions, too. </span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remember that women are designed differently.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> We have different centers of gravity. Moves work differently for us. I get frustrated when I try to execute a move that is harder for me because of my design, and the coach says, “Just do it like this, you will get it.” I know I won’t. Educate yourself on how women move differently and help them tweak moves that you show so that the moves work for the female body. This might require some research on your part. But that is what it means to be a coach, right? As a high school teacher, I can’t just say, well this method works for </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">most</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of my students, then force the others to do it the same way. I have to figure out ways to help those who learn differently. It’s part of my job. And it’s part of yours, too, if you want to keep women in your gym. (</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">See #1.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Choose partners during rolling time.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> And choose them meaningfully. You can even set goals for your students: “I want you two to work on this.” Women, even those with higher belts, may feel self-conscious about choosing a partner. Sometimes we feel like the boys see us as a <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2013/11/same-shit-different-year.html">wasted roll</a>. Some men avoid eye contact so we don’t have to roll together. This may not be a problem in a bigger gym. But in a small gym it can be a big problem. Coaches can help this by not only choosing the partners but also explaining why this match is a good one, and verbalizing confidence in the woman (See #9). For example, one time I visited a sister gym. The coach partnered me with a young man whom he knew well, but I did not. As he matched us, he said to the man, “She’s good.” This vote of confidence from the coach set the tone for our roll and showed my male partner that his coach respected me, so he should, too. I will never forget how that very simple gesture changed the dynamic between us., In fact, I now use this technique when I partner students in class. I say things like, “You are working with Susie, She really knows her vocabulary!”</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Foster leadership and empowerment.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> In a male-dominated sport, women might feel uncomfortable taking a leadership role. Encourage women to be leaders and help them identify their strengths so that they can feel confident. Be aware that women may be more self-conscious than the average student about their abilities. If you see them doing something right, ask them to demonstrate.</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Model appropriate behavior. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your male students take their cues from you</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> So, make sure you support your women in your words and your actions, your students will follow your lead, positive or negative.</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cancel “bro” culture. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Foster acceptance, tolerance, and skill- and team- building over bravado and bluster. Include women in all aspects of your gym. </span>Play music that does not negatively portray women. <span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Can you imagine, as a woman, trying to roll with a guy while music about “bitches and hoes” thumps in the background? I can not only imagine it, I have lived through it. You may say, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well if women really want to do BJJ, they will get a thicker skin and tune it out.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I did just that. But, if you are serious about attracting and keeping more women, take my advice. If not, see #1 above.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Note: this does not apply to just women. I cringe when a person of color visits and the music drops the “n” word. Or, what may be worse, when the coach changes the playlist because a person of color is visiting.) Look, at home you can listen to and enjoy whatever music you fancy. Bitch and hoe it up, and I won’t judge you. But it’s not about </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">you</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in the gym. It’s about your students. And your music choice telegraphs a lot to your students. It sends a message not only to women, but to everyone. This also includes banning sexist language and holding people who use it accountable. On several occasions mid-roll a male partner called me a bitch. I walked off the mat each time. But no one said anything to the guy. Not even my coach. What did that tell me? That he was more important to my coach, my gym, and my teammates than I was. I was expendable. If I quit the gym in outrage, they would all shrug and continue on, female-less, able to say and do bro things without any estrogen-fueled repercussions. Do you really want women at your gym? How do you show it?</span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ban sexy talk. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For everyone’s sake, not just the ladies. In a sport where we get so close to each other, where the positions mimic sex acts and we are trying to submit each other, there is no room for sex talk. It makes everyone comfortable. I have had someone call from the sidelines to me while I was rolling with a guy, “Wow! You are in 69!” Seriously? Can you imagine how awkward both my partner and I felt after that? And what did the coach say to this person afterward? Nothing. I had to take this person aside myself and let them know I did not appreciate their comments. I did my part. But the coach did not. Coaches set the tone. Coaches determine what is appropriate behavior by what they allow and what they do not allow in their space. </span></li><li><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Use Behavior Contracts</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Some schools have members sign contracts that delineate rules about behavioral expectations that include inappropriate touching, language, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">etc.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> This makes me feel more comfortable as a woman because it lets me know that the coach has thought about these issues and will likely enforce the appropriate conduct.</span></li></ol><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">All of these tips work together to show women that you value their participation. </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">By </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">now you </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">have noticed </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">that many of these things are just good coaching in general. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">We have a saying </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">in education: </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">What you do </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre;">to help diverse learners is also good for mainstream learners. </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">Do you know how much courage it takes for a woman to walk on that hyper-masculine mat? </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">A crap-ton. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">If you want women to stay, and if you want a healthy, sport-focused gym where </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">people feel </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">good about </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">their practice and confident in their ability, give these a shot. Let me </span></div><div><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">know </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">how they work out. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">And if you </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">have other tips, please share them as well!</span></div><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="text-indent: 36pt;"> </span> </p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Note: </span></b></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I recognize that I am not addressing transgender or LGBQ issues. As a cis-woman I do not feel </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">qualified to give that advice. Please share </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">your </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">LGBTQ welcoming tips in the comments. I am also not </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">addressing physical harassment here. Thankfully I have no experience with </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">in a BJJ setting. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">But </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">clearly coaches should address issues of inappropriate physical contact swiftly and decisively to make </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">women </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; white-space: pre;">feel safe.</span></p><p><br /><br /></p>Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-63403026692734704632020-08-22T11:54:00.000-04:002020-08-22T11:54:03.085-04:00Fucking Up the Blow OutOn a normal day, I'm not much to look at.
<br /><br />My eyes are too small, my nose is too prominent, my face too splotchy. <div><br /></div><div>Some days I make it to cute. The head-turning--that's for my sister. She can stop a fire truck with her good looks, even after age 50.
<br /><br />But there is one time, and one time only, that I turn heads. That is when I've just had a blow out. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. But you dudes might be scratching your MMA-shaved heads right now. </div><div><br />A blow out is when a stylist blows your hair dry. </div><div><br /></div><div>Usually Shark Girl ain't got time to worry about hair. I let it air dry. It frizzes and follows strange and circuitous cowlicks. But when I go to the hair salon and my stylist gives me a blow out, watch out, world. </div><div><br /></div><div>After my stylist has blown my hair into gloriously smooth silkiness, a transformation happens. Gentlemen vigorously wave to me from the next car over while we are waiting at lights. Old men hit on me in liquor store parking lots. Middle-aged men with dad bods approach me in therapist waiting rooms, right in front of my teenaged son. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, after my blow out, a handsome, much younger man eating Chipotle looked up at me from his cafe seat. His eyes followed me all the way to my car. And you know what? I knew they would. It was so predictable. It's the magic of the blow out. Shark Girl ain't much to look at, but give her a professional blow dry and watch out. It's like that old Salon Selectives commercial from the '90s. If you're too young to remember, here it is for educational purposes. Brace yourself. Commercials haven't been made like this since #metoo.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/E3Wgj2bjxwA" width="320" youtube-src-id="E3Wgj2bjxwA"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm telling you a lot about my hair and you may be wondering why. Here it is:
A good blow out can last three or four days. I can't replicate it at home. I don't have the tools, the talent, or the time. So I schedule hair appointments for when I won't have wash my hair for a while, to maximize blow out longevity. That means I schedule them as far away from jiu jitsu as possible. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not alone in this, right? </div><div><br /></div><div>This week, the only available appointment was the day before I was doing jiu jitsu with my quarantine buddy. Oh no!
I had a choice to make: Roll and wash my hair, or don't roll and keep my sexy blow out. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm guessing you know which one I chose. I chose to fuck up my blow out.</div><div><br /></div><div>After my roll with my quarantine buddy, my ponytail was a mess. Just to be clear, if you google "messy ponytail," you will get images of ponytails that are <i>not</i> messy, and have been teased and over-producted to look like Chrissy Teigen just had sex and then put her hair up. (See below) </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://pophaircuts.com/images/2013/11/Messy-Ponytail-Hairstyle.jpg" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: none;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="655" data-original-width="486" height="320" src="http://pophaircuts.com/images/2013/11/Messy-Ponytail-Hairstyle.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not<i> messy</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br />This is not the kind of messy ponytail I am talking about. </div><div><br /></div><div>
In fact my google searching could not find a picture worthy of my frizzy, disaster of a post-grappling scare-do Perhaps that is better for you all; no one needs to see that. The closest I came was when I looked for "hair" and "van de graaff generator."</div><div><br /></div><div>As I left the gym, ready to wash the sweat and filth out of my hair and to destroy my sexy blow out forever, my quarantine training partner turned to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I like this hairstyle better," he said. </div><div><br /></div><div>That's why we're friends. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, <i>ave atque vale</i>, blow out. Until next haircut.
</div>Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-69990598041866072542020-08-07T16:01:00.001-04:002020-08-07T16:01:51.224-04:00Shark Girl's (Evil?) Coronavirus Pact<div class="separator"><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></p></div><p>So, after almost four months, I started rolling again. My jiu jitsu best friend and I decided to "pod" together. We only roll with each other. To do this, we discussed our coronavirus exposure tolerance and interrogated each other on our personal contact lists and our disinfecting routines. Then we made it official: we were exclusive. We would only roll with each other.</p><p>I am in a big, midlife jiu jitsu crisis right now. Switching gyms threw me. It shook my confidence in myself. It broke my social reasons for going to class. Sometimes I wonder why I am still practicing. My coach is a nice guy--a good teacher and communicator--but I came to him with a bloated brown belt. How invested is he in me? Certainly not as much as he is in the purple belt that he has cultivated since white belt. Not as much as he is in the new white belts that he needs to keep his cashflow positive. I broke into a community in progress. Where do I fit in? I'm not quite sure. </p><p>I am friendly with everyone at my new gym, but I have not yet developed real friendships. Others in my new gym are missing the camaraderie of class; I'm not. To be fair, I was only there about six months before we closed. How integrated should I expect to be?</p><p>With my old friend, who is from my old gym, rolling is like a weathered loafer. It feels natural and normal. We know each others' moves but can still surprise each other, and are happy when we do. Of course, the danger is that we may not challenge each other enough. But I've found that I can roll for hours with my friend without even noticing the time. He reminds me of why I do jiu jitsu. (Which, after much soul searching, I have decided I do jiu jitsu because I want to be a creative badass. I think. I'm still trying to answer the question: <i>Why </i>does <i>a petite 50-year old mother of two whose injury tolerance is waning by the month do jiu jitsu?)</i></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://651670.smushcdn.com/958334/wp-content/uploads/stepBrothersBJJ.jpg?lossy=1&strip=1&webp=1" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://651670.smushcdn.com/958334/wp-content/uploads/stepBrothersBJJ.jpg?lossy=1&strip=1&webp=1" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>At our last rolling session, we shared that we each felt the same at our new gyms. "Honestly, what if we quit our gyms, got some mats for our garage, and just trained the two of us?" Call it jiu jitsu monoandry. We tossed that around for a bit, but in the end rightly concluded that having a black belt who was current, practicing, learning, teaching, and competing was significant to our development.</p><p>My gym is still doing solo drills only. I appreciate the effort. But, I need to be on the mat. Or I might never return.</p><p> </p>Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-6512105524048284762020-03-14T18:44:00.000-04:002020-03-15T00:08:14.805-04:00Jiu Jitsu in the Time of Coronavirus"We won't shake hands anymore," my coach instructed. "And we won't tap hands before rolling."<br />
"But then we're going to roll, right?" someone asked.<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
This exchange happened after reminders to wash our gis after every class. This is jiu jitsu in the time of coronavirus.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.slocounty.ca.gov/getmedia/ad519a91-e5e0-4985-902f-afc9113bc183/outbreak-coronavirus-world-1024x683px" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="800" height="213" src="https://www.slocounty.ca.gov/getmedia/ad519a91-e5e0-4985-902f-afc9113bc183/outbreak-coronavirus-world-1024x683px" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>But they look so cute! Like Frankenberries!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I was not sure whether to go to class on Thursday night. All around me are recommendations of social distancing. Jiu jitsu is the <i>opposite</i> of that. You get in close, you hug your partner, your gi soaks up the sweat beading off your partner's forehead. . . . I know. When I put it like that, it's a wonder <i>everyone</i> doesn't want to do jiu jitsu! <br />
<br />
<i>If I don't go tonight,</i> I thought, <i>then I really shouldn't go until all of this blows over. That could be weeks. Months. Am I prepared to go without jiu jitsu for that long? </i><br />
<br />
The answer was no. I am focusing on new grips. I want to try them out. <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2020/02/shark-girls-big-learning-1-jiu-jitsu-is.html" target="_blank">I have been working hard </a>lately, acclimatizing to a new gym, <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2019/09/shark-girl-is-back-and-shes-bad.html" target="_blank">trying to legitimize myself and my brown belt</a>. I feel like I can't spare a minute, never mind a quarantine.<br />
<br />
So, with Husband looking at me sidewise, Shark Girl went off to class and heard words like, "As always, if you have any cold symptoms, stay off the mats."<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I mean let's face it, I've been rolling around in these guys' sweat for months now. If one of us has it, we've surely passed it on. We know that carriers can be asymptomatic, </i>I justified to myself.<br />
<br />
Middle School Son wears shorts to school every day. In the middle of winter. Unless Husband forces him to wear "sweatpants at least." We've given up on the winter coat that he insists he does not have but has been hanging in our coat closet gathering dust and growing too small for about a year. Middle School Son has seen this coat. He knows it exists. Yet he refuses to acknowledge it.<br />
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<a href="https://teamgreenadventures.files.wordpress.com/2014/12/fat-guy-who-wears-shorts-in-winter-meme-generator-20-degrees-better-put-on-my-winter-shorts-ce88db.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="257" data-original-width="510" height="161" src="https://teamgreenadventures.files.wordpress.com/2014/12/fat-guy-who-wears-shorts-in-winter-meme-generator-20-degrees-better-put-on-my-winter-shorts-ce88db.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
One day I asked High School Son (who always wore pants but lived through this strange shorts fad a few years ago) why middle school boys did this. "Its a game of chicken," he said. "No one wants to be the first to wear pants and admit that they're too cold."<br />
<br />
If I'm being honest with myself, part of my decision to go to jiu jitsu was like that. I don't want to be the first one to cave in to the virus. Especially as the token female. They are going to have to <i>make </i>me not go, in spite of the fact that I have a son who is at high risk if he develops the virus. (Yes, Shark Girl is crazy. But you knew that already.)<br />
<br />
I also wondered if I was contemplating skipping jiu jitsu to wimp out on my feelings of inadequacy. Who knew that deciding whether or not to go to class was going to tap into all of my psychological issues?<br />
<br />
When I got home Thursday night, I washed my belt along with my gi. I know that's sacrilege. But the belt was sweaty, too. What good is it to wash the coronavirus off your gi only to have it fester unchallenged on your belt?<br />
<br />
Just today another gym I am connected with announced they would be closing for a period of two weeks, like our local schools. What a relief it would be if mine did that, too. Then I would not have to make the decision. Then I would not have to search my psyche to figure out why I should or should not go to class. Won't someone else <i>please</i> wear their pants first? You would make it a hell of a lot easier for me.<br />
<br />
*****<br />
I really like Stephan Kesting's <a href="https://www.grapplearts.com/covid-19-bjj/" target="_blank">resource on COVID-19 and BJJ</a>. I haven't read it all yet, but it looks pretty comprehensive. If I find anymore resources I find helpful, I will update this post. Please feel free to comment with any resources that have helped you, too.<br />
<br />
Stay Healthy,<br />
Shark Girl<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-37341322677332639702020-02-23T16:53:00.000-05:002020-02-23T16:53:25.534-05:00Shark Girl's Big Learning #2: Jiu Jitsu Is Harder As a Small Person<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Jiu jitsu is even fucking harder as a small
person. </span><br />
<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I know what they say—size doesn’t matter. But
let’s be honest. That’s a myth in just about any arena.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">When you are tiny, </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">everyone</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> is bigger than you.
Brand new white belts can muscle you. Brand new white belts freak out when they
see you because you they are like, “Oh, damn! A 100# brown-belted, middle-aged
woman creeping toward AARP eligibility. Damn! If she beats me my penis will
fall off!” </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The other night a new small dude joined our
gym. (Mind you, a small dude is still has about 35% more body weight than me.)
I was partnered with him to roll. We slapped hands. Immediately he leaped on me
like a starving zombie who has not seen quivering flesh since the Apocalypse. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Or like Voldemort attacking Harry Potter.<br /> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2YDegWUjFaBmQqpnXSJtRR6uoZrIshyphenhyphenvDZf3c_roBnqnxyO-OwGQxBpL1XVD2sM4OdKBhm_EKu5FqSwKRpZU65l6KxHxeUEbPax_MHPKKo0K3VmN4I3uXABy0KJmQVtAyJS1TUtt2QI/s1600/Voldemort_attacking_Harry_Potter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2YDegWUjFaBmQqpnXSJtRR6uoZrIshyphenhyphenvDZf3c_roBnqnxyO-OwGQxBpL1XVD2sM4OdKBhm_EKu5FqSwKRpZU65l6KxHxeUEbPax_MHPKKo0K3VmN4I3uXABy0KJmQVtAyJS1TUtt2QI/s1600/Voldemort_attacking_Harry_Potter.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Small Guy had no idea what he was doing, but he did it anyway. Well-muscled arms were
flying. His torso was thrown at my face several times. I’m sure when the five
minutes were up, he was thinking, “I survived a brown belt!” I was thinking, “I
am so glad I do not have a broken finger or tooth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Staying safe is usually top on my mind unless I
am rolling with one of a handful of “pre-qualified” people. </span>If you
have tips, tricks, or mindset tweaks that can help me here, I am all ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Wait!
I promised myself I wasn’t going to complain about being small anymore! Oh, well, Screw that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-10122852690161786512020-02-02T16:19:00.000-05:002020-02-02T16:19:30.825-05:00Shark Girl’s Big Learning #1: Jiu Jitsu is Fucking Hard<br />
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">It's been just over four months at my new
gym. I am still filled with self-doubt each time I suit
up. But I have made it this far and it is time to take stock of what I have
learned.</span></div>
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<a href="https://i2.wp.com/cashflowwithjoe.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/What_I_Learned.jpg?resize=730%2C200&ssl=1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for what I learned" border="0" height="109" src="https://i2.wp.com/cashflowwithjoe.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/What_I_Learned.jpg?resize=730%2C200&ssl=1" style="background-color: transparent;" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Much of what I am going to say is not new or earth-shattering. It is mostly a reinforcement of what we
already know—stuff it is good to be reminded of every now and again. Some of
what I have learned is about what students need from their teachers, and it has
informed (reinforced) concepts in my professional life as a teacher, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have a lot to say,
so my plan is to put it out in installments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Behold, Dear Reader,
Installment #1: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Jiu jitsu is
fucking hard.</b> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yes, you read me
right, it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fucking hard</i>. Not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">flipping</i> hard, not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">forking</i> hard, not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fricking</i>
hard . . . <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fucking</i> hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many of you are saying, “Yes, Shark Girl! That’s a good thing! It’s impossible to fuck
without it being hard!” Well, to you I say, “Please! This is a family blog!”
and “Maybe it’s time for you to get more creative in your personal life!” But,
now I am off topic. Back to jiu jitsu.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every time I think I
have something down in jiu jitsu, every time I have felt that I was on to
something or that I was gaining in knowledge or insight, I have learned that
there is always more, there is always better, there is always something else,
just beyond my reach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I work so fucking hard
at jiu jitsu. Again and again I come back to the mat. I try something. I am
humiliated. I come back. I try something else. I take notes. I make the same
mistakes over and over again. I review notes. I see people better, younger, stronger,
more talented, more [fill-in-the-blank] than I am, and I wonder why I put
myself through this. Why do I press on in the face of insurmountable odds?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Image result for jiu jitsu is hard" height="179" src="https://bjjafter40blog.files.wordpress.com/2017/07/20141208185213-want-quit-day-job-work-less2.jpeg?w=822" style="background-color: transparent; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(borrowed from BJJafter40blog)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sometimes the answer,
Dear Reader, is, “Jiu jitsu is a magical cocktail of kinetic connection mixed
with nerdy undertones and street cred.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sometimes the answer
is, “Duh, cuz I wanna be a badass.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">More often than not,
however, the answer is, “I have no fucking clue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">None at all, Dear
Reader. No idea why I make my life harder than it has to be. I could be sitting
home at night eating pretzels and chips, sipping herbal tea and watching
Netflix. Getting my kids their dinner instead of wondering if and what they are eating and what mess I will cmoe home to. Correcting papers. Perhaps
even stealing some precious “alone time” with Husband. But, no, I choose jiu
jitsu. And it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fucking</i> hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-13185530935845058462019-11-21T17:38:00.000-05:002019-11-21T17:38:03.920-05:00Oops, I Mansplained Again!I got mansplained by a white belt.<br />
<br />
I get it. I suck. But at least have the decency to <i>feign</i> respect.<br />
<br />
Literally, he tried to tell me why top pressure is important. Thanks, pal. I'm fucking 100 pounds. I think I know a bit about top pressure.<br />
<br />
Then he went on to say that, when I have someone in good pressure, I should wait for them to try to escape and then think ahead and catch them in a sub. Again, thanks.<br />
<br />
I nodded politely and smiled.<br />
<br />
There's more: He said that when he rolled with someone significantly bigger and stronger than him, he took that opportunity to work on his escapes.<br />
<br />
I don't know where to even begin unpacking this, but I can tell you that it gave me a stress espresso dream last night.<br />
<br />
What is a stress espresso dream, you may ask? Well, Shark Girl takes her espresso seriously, and has spent more time than is rational on <a href="http://coffeegeek.com/">coffeegeek.com</a>. I'm not the best barista, but I am the best barista I know.<br />
<br />
Here is what a stress espresso dream looks like:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I was using a new espresso machine in public. I was excited to see what I could do with it. But this dude, like, watched me stumble a bit as I was getting used to the new equipment, and then he mansplained how to pull a shot of espresso. Like I don't fucking do that multiple times a day, fuckwad? How do you think I get this goddamned cheery? It's called caffeine.</blockquote>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmbSTxOFAettBZNgi9dg4EYSKbgZ7KGp2eW__nLBhs02NcbcZytoAqnS7qyi53hdKcW_ESUsLOEMBmAUOjwhPI2WflBqjiha7RciyxwKKC7MKB6tWWmOc837MWdwBhek-YiXhCzX6p_w/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="314" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmbSTxOFAettBZNgi9dg4EYSKbgZ7KGp2eW__nLBhs02NcbcZytoAqnS7qyi53hdKcW_ESUsLOEMBmAUOjwhPI2WflBqjiha7RciyxwKKC7MKB6tWWmOc837MWdwBhek-YiXhCzX6p_w/s200/untitled.bmp" width="156" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This morning, I was grinding beans for my morning cappuccino and thinking that 2% milk foamed up much more delicately that fat-free, when I realized: Wait! That dream wasn't about me having a fear of pulling shots in public. It was about that White Belt mansplaining jiu jitsu to me!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Here is the last thing last thing White Belt said during that conversation.<br />
<br />
After extolling the virtues of crushing your opponent, he said how much he loved rolling with me because I helped him learn.<br />
<br />
You are fucking welcome.<br />
<br />
So, here is the hidden meaning behind what he said:<br />
<br />
"I can crush anyone I want and that's the way to do it. But, when I roll with you and you don't crush me, I actually learn something."<br />
<br />
That's genius, dude. Try connecting the dots backward. When you crush your training partner, you hinder their growth. (Unless, of course, you are expressly working on escaping crushing control.)<br />
<br />
So the next time you are on my chest and I can't breathe, maybe you just should ease up. You can make a mental tick mark counting that you beat the 50-year old who weighs half of what you do. But then give us both a chance to learn.<br />
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<br />Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-61350264678844724662019-10-06T21:40:00.000-04:002019-10-06T21:40:42.431-04:00Can We Talk? Jiu Jitsu is a Conversation.<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Lately, Shark Girl has been thinking a lot about what jiu jitsu means to her.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">As I face a <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2019/09/shark-girl-is-back-and-shes-bad.html" target="_blank">terrifying start at a new gym </a>, I wonder whether it’s time to give up jiu jitsu forever </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">in favor of less injurious pursuits. Therefore, I keep coming back to this: why do I do jiu jitsu?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre;">A few reasons bubble up.</span><br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">The first is that I am a control freak. Undisputed. Capital C. But that’s not what I want to talk </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">about today. I’ll save that for another post.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Today I want to talk about how for me, jiu jitsu is a conversation. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> partner says something to me and I respond.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://elementsmartialarts.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/Screen-Shot-2019-04-08-at-14.57.12-min.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="447" data-original-width="800" height="178" src="https://elementsmartialarts.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/Screen-Shot-2019-04-08-at-14.57.12-min.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"How you doin', pal?" "Not bad, how 'bout you?"</i></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I grew up in a family where verbal sparring was the main form of recreation. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The person who was the loudest or could overtalk the other person was usually the victor. To even enter these arguments as the smallest, youngest person there, I had to stealthily choose when to assert my point of view. I had to be quick and concise, and I had to understand that most likely, no matter what I said, I was</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">going to be </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">brushed off, overpowered, ignored</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Or worse, someone would use twisted logic to turn my thoughts into something I didn’t even recognize anymore. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">These days, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have found that it is not really worthwhile getting into one of these family-style arguments. Last night on the phone Shark Dad tried to goad me into a lame shouting match over whether I had a lot of stuff left at his house from thirty years ago. (Spoiler: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I don’t</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.) He complained that it was causing him and my elderly mother stress because they had to clean out all my shit and figure out what to do with it. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">I tried to deflect with a joke: </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, those rolls of quarters from when I was a waitress? Please save those for me. It’s my escape money if things go south with me and Husband.”</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://coins.thefuntimesguide.com/files/penny-rolls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="600" height="256" src="https://coins.thefuntimesguide.com/files/penny-rolls.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Watch out, Husband! Shark Girl could be movin' on out with this bank!</i></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tried to rationalize: "Those empty photo albums (that aren't mine)? No one uses those anymore, Dad."</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">But Shark Dad wanted contention. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stymied by my stonewalling, he pushed it forward: “Now your mother is getting mad at me because I’m upsetting you,” he said.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’re not upsetting me, but I’m not going to argue over this. If I have a lot of stuff left there, feel free to throw it away or leave it for me to sort through when I come home. I really don’t care.” </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">And then he passed the phone to my mother. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I think we were both sadder for that conversation. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My 84-year old Dad was trying to connect the only way he knew how, but he only succeeded in causing tension. I saw a lonely, old man cleaning out his house so his kids don’t have to. But instead of having a meaningful conversation about that, Shark Dad made me feel guilty. I had disappointed him because I did not take his bait (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">chum?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). And I disappointed myself because, in the heat of the exchange, I failed to realize what it was really about: (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not going to be here much longer. You better come see me and) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Get your stuff</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/v8MoSL-pUhY/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="180" src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/v8MoSL-pUhY/maxresdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Just take the bait, Shark Girl! Doesn't it look tasty??!</i></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">That made me feel guiltier. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I get frustrated rolling with people for whom it’s a fight. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve had enough fights in my lifetime. I don’t want to fight. I want a conversation. A communication. Something that when we are both finished, we do not have to agree, but we can respect each other and we know each other a little better. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I don’t play closed guard, but I respect yours. I don’t have long legs, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; font-style: italic; white-space: pre-wrap;">but I enjoy learning how to get around yours.</span> </div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I do jiu jitsu to connect with the person I am rolling with. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When that person smashes me or uses disproportionate strength, then I have nothing to say. I feel like, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why am I in this conversation, anyway? I have nothing to contribute and you wouldn’t listen if I did.</span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-78b7ef46-7fff-a56c-6e01-5fb981ecb802"></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I recognize that not everyone is on the mats for the same reason. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">People have different demons to exorcise. But I need to understand what </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> want and need from this sport/art.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://66.media.tumblr.com/dcb92a7161170aa32d3cb10e0cbb0e42/tumblr_p3gii5RDHN1skxlj2o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="200" src="https://66.media.tumblr.com/dcb92a7161170aa32d3cb10e0cbb0e42/tumblr_p3gii5RDHN1skxlj2o1_1280.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Check out this jiu jitsu demon by tattoo artist <a href="https://fabienletatoueur.tumblr.com/post/170370284254/demon-of-jiu-jitsu-for-my-bro-bruno-jiujitsu/amp" target="_blank">Fabien</a>!</i></td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.656; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">For me, when my partner does something clever, I laugh out loud. When they frustrate me, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I try to find a different way to answer their moves. I walk away from those rolls feeling like I know my partner, and myself, better. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When someone uses their full muscle </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and crushes my little person so that I can’t move, I usually walk away disappointed, defeated. I feel </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">brushed off, overpowered, and ignored</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Inconsequential and unheard. I’ve experienced that a lot in my life and it’s not fulfilling for me to experience that on the mat. Sure, I could learn to “speak louder,” but then, wouldn’t I just be doing the same thing to someone else? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Maybe I need to give my </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Old Shark Dad a call. Perhaps we both didn’t have the best conversation skills last night. Maybe I was passing his guard (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">avoiding his sadness</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) while he was trying to choke me (with crushing guilt). Sometimes a conversation is not about what it seems on the surface.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Sometimes jiu jitsu is not about who </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">wins the match. It’s about how much we listen to each other.</span></div>
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Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-57661516417304847032019-09-20T17:26:00.000-04:002019-09-20T17:44:50.875-04:00Shark Girl is Back. And She’s Bad.<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">I never thought anything could be more intimidating than starting Jiu Jitsu: walking into class every night as a white belt, knowing nothing, feeling lost, and getting tooled on by the regulars, who had spent years developing relationships, inside jokes, rapport, and techniques. And yes, they were all guys. Boy was I wrong.</span><br />
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Try walking into that same gym as a brown belt.</div>
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Yep. That’s me. My gym finally closed, a year later than expected. My coach awarded me a brown belt, years earlier than deserved, in my opinion. </div>
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And now I start from scratch. At a new gym. Where everyone knows everyone else’s name, but illogically, I am the highest belt other than the coach.</div>
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Everyone has been practicing their style of Jiu Jitsu, so different from mine, and I’ve got to catch up. </div>
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Everyone has had real, serious coaching and goes to competitions. And I, well, I just love a good roll, hate being crushed, and have learned not to care much about submissions because sometimes they cause more trouble for a girl on the mat unless you have a real good relationship with your partner.</div>
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Everyone expects me to be awesome and I suck.</div>
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Everyone expects me to have something to teach them, and I don’t.</div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I stopped writing posts a while ago because I felt this blog’s purpose was served.</span> I started it as a white belt so many years ago, <a href="https://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2010/12/fear-factor.html" target="_blank">looking for support to go into that gym every night.</a> I vowed to give it three months. You all, dear readers, kept me going and I fell in love. </div>
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Now I am back in the same spot, needing your help to walk back into a gym week after week. I have vowed to give it a year. Some nights I want to cry. Some nights I feel the bile creep up in my esophagus and my pulse quicken an hour before class. Of course, there are some moments of joy, too, but they feel fleeting and disconnected, overshadowed by everything else.</div>
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Shark Girl is back. But she’s bad.</div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-21244681858882403862018-08-06T23:42:00.000-04:002018-08-06T23:47:00.946-04:00You Can't Fight City Hall<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the mid-90s, while alt-rock raged across the airwaves, twenty-something Shark Girl used to
visit two elderly Italian sisters who lived in the North End of Boston. They
would make me lunch. We would talk about Italy and life as an immigrant in
Boston. We told stories of our families and discussed the problems of the
world. These conversations usually ended with the older sister, Filomena, saying, “Well, you can’t
fight City Hall.” It was one of the few English expressions she could say
clearly, understandable even to those not well-versed in Italian-tinted English. Almost once a visit, Filomena would declare to me that City Hall could not be fought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The other day I
was leaving the kids jiu jitsu class that I started assisting. (<i>I
know. We have a lot to catch up on.</i>) In my head, I heard Filomena say those
words: <i>You can’t fight City Hall.</i> </span></div>
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<a href="https://media.giphy.com/media/l2JedCFynd2ErW1cQ/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="480" height="244" src="https://media.giphy.com/media/l2JedCFynd2ErW1cQ/giphy.gif" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My blog
has documented well the outsider feelings I have as a woman on the male-dominated
mats of jiu jitsu. I guess I thought the kids class would be different. It’s
not. It’s more of the same. When it comes time to work with me, I see the boys avert their eyes to the other male coaches or another member of the class, hoping that lack of eye contact will “save” them. At first I thought, <i>Maybe it’s just the pre-teen weirdness of rolling with a female. That could be it. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the other day one of them got stuck working with me and said, “This time can you go full force?”as if he was insulted that in the past I had not. “Do you want me to?” I asked. “I don’t know . . .” he said. This summed up his whole dilemma for me. He was anxious that I wasn't going full force and it would look like a “girl” was taking it easy on him, but he was also afraid that if I didn't go easy on him a “girl” would crush him. He didn't have these same concerns with the male coaches.</span></div>
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(I use the word girl here, because I think in those moments that's what I was to him, even though I am I’m a 48-year-old purple-belted woman who clearly should have some skill over a white-belted 11-year-old boy, if there is any truth to jiu jitsu.) </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure why I thought maybe kids would be different. This youngster
is simply reflecting his culture. Filomena’s
words came back to me: <i>You can’t fight
City Hall.</i> As women in jiu jitsu, we can’t fight City Hall. After
eight years of jiu jitsu, it still stings. I bet it always will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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*After reading this post, many of you jiu jitsu playahs, well-versed in fighting, are saying, "Wait a minute Shark Girl! You may not be able to fight City Hall . . . <i>directly</i>. After all, isn't that what jiu jitsu is about? Figuring out how to fight the bigger, stronger opponent?" To you, I say, "Well played." You are absolutely right! No self-respecting jiu jitsuer would try to break down the locked front door. No, we look for the key under the mat at back door. Now, I'm going to stop before you all take this in some, tawdry, NSFW metaphorical way. But know this: I have a companion piece percolating about how we actually <i>can </i>fight City Hall, but we have to do it <b>jiu jitsu style</b>. Stay tuned!</div>
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<br />Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-34843606152776085842017-11-20T20:56:00.000-05:002017-11-20T20:56:18.707-05:00Shark Girl Faces a Change<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">It is a turning point for Shark Girl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I haven’t written in a while. When I was
a white belt, everything was new and curious. And being a woman on the mat was
challenging. I needed help and support, and you, faithful Internet readers,
were there for me. You helped and guided me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Now, as a purple belt and then some, I
have drifted into stasis. My game doesn’t change so rapidly anymore. The huge
strides I used to make in a month are now incremental improvements over months
and months. I used to practice how to escape; now I work on shifting moves
slightly to the left to see if that will help, or moving my center of gravity
*here* and seeing what that will do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Likewise, in being the lone woman at my
gym (still), I have fallen into a pattern, a habit if you will. Some of the
same problems remain, but after this many years, you either put up or get out,
and I have chosen the former. I believe I made the right decision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">So at this point in my jiu jitsu career,
change is slow. Glacially slow. And to write about that on a regular basis
seemed, well, boring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Now its global warming time, my friends.
My gym just announced that it is closing. I don’t have many options. But one
thing is certain: Change is coming, and it is coming fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-46599266244680396902017-08-01T11:49:00.000-04:002017-08-01T11:49:52.452-04:00It Took Me Over Seven Years, But I Have Finally Done It!<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Yep. Last night. I let out an
expulsion of gas that echoed throughout the chamber, shook the walls, and was
finally absorbed by the mats. How embarrassing! </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Others before me have done it, followed by
eruptions of laughter from the class. Usually it's the older</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">guy. Every once in
a while it is one of the younger dudes. Me, for my part, up until now, I have
only let out those ones that could be mistaken for a foot rubbing against the
mat, making a squeak. </span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Should I say excuse
me? Or would that call attention to something that no one noticed anyway? Best
to let those go</i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">But last night was different. Last night, it was like a balloon
letting out a quick burst of air when some little kid spreads apart its lips to
annoy a roomful of partygoers. And of course I was in north -south. “Excuse
me,” I said sheepishly. It was clear I could neither ignore or deny this
one. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Now, I am always very careful on the mats. I do my best to hold my
sphincter tight. As a mom who pushed out two babies in less than fifteen minutes
a pop, sometimes things are not as . . . sealed . . . as we would like them to
be. But, Good Lord, I use all my muscles to keep it in! Sometimes I sacrifice
power moves and opportunities because I have to keep my “core” engaged. But
last night in drilling, I was committed to holding down my partner with my
upper body, and I had to jerk my leg away. There was only so much my core could
keep track of at one time. Kind of like when someone talks to me at the copier.
Look, I can make copies, or I can have an intelligent conversation. I cannot do
both, and if you make me, my brain will fart.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Last night, I was pulled in so many directions that I was not able
to hold in my body's brain fart. In fact, I never even suspected it was coming.
My partner, gracious even though his face was inches from the scene (scent?) of
the crime, remained professional and businesslike. We continued drilling the
move. I, however, decided to use slightly less power than before.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
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Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-15574021345245579432017-02-12T21:20:00.000-05:002017-02-12T21:20:51.658-05:00What Shark Girl Would Do. . . to Not Miss Class<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I don't know about you, but skipping class freaks me out. Here is
why:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My friends and partners, whose Jiu jitsu I want to encourage and
foster, whom I care about as human beings, whom I love dearly and spar with
only to improve their Jiu jitsu and NEVER for any egotistical reasons (I am
much more Zen than that), if I miss a class, those wonderful people will
totally get a leg up on me with some new move or extra practice. Then they will
wreck me mercilessly the next time I am on the mat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I also hate missing class because mat sense is real. I have been
sidelined by inuries, keeping me off the mat for months. When I came back, it
felt like that blue mat was water and I was floundering to stay afloat. It
takes a while to get used to the mat after an absence. Like walkng on land
after being at sea. Any time I miss mat time, I worry that my mat sense will
diminish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Here is a Short List of things I have done instead of missing
class:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Skip Eating<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I love food, just not when it is within an hour of Jiu jitsu class.
Dinner will have to wait until I come back. Speaking of food . . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Not Feed My Children Dinner<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Look, there is cereal in the pantry, and they are old enough to
understand the beauty and ease of ramen noodles. I am confident their instincts
will kick in and they will not become some Darwinian statistic. In the
meantime, I got me some learnin’ to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Laundry On the Off Day<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">SG has so much laundry. Sometimes I feel like Sisyphus rolling
that big rock up a hill. Instead my rock is a laundry basket, the hill is the
basement stairs, and when it all rolls back down it goes through a laundry
chute that wouldn't exist anymore if I had my house renovated because it is
against fire code and no self respecting contractor who wants to keep his
license is keeping that shit around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> But no matter how much
laundry I have done, no matter how tired I am of my basement corner with the
dryer sheets and the Arm and Hammer and the big bins of sorted, sweaty,
elementary-school–boy laundry, I will get my ass downstairs and make sure I
have clean Jiu jitsu gear for my classes. Period. My son doesn't need clean
underwear or socks, really. Half the time he wears them for days straight of
his own preference. But I need a clean gi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Take Maximum Ibuprofen.<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Whether I feel a migraine coming on, or my muscles are sore from
running, it doesn't matter. I will pop this wonder drug like candy if It means
being able to make it through jujitsu class. </span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Take Other Pharmaceuticals</span></u></b><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> . . . especially those
quelling any gas that might erupt, embarrassing myself and my classmates. Yes I
am saying that sometimes (maybe very often) I take a Gas-X about a half hour
before class, what's it to ya’? Actually you should all be thanking me. I do it
out of consideration for my classmates. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://edc2.healthtap.com/ht-staging/user_answer/avatars/348452/large/open-uri20120811-22799-3e2jus.jpeg?1386594581" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://edc2.healthtap.com/ht-staging/user_answer/avatars/348452/large/open-uri20120811-22799-3e2jus.jpeg?1386594581" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Show Up Places in My Gi<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Yes, I have appeared at school events in full gi in front of
parents and students because I didn't have time to change after class. I have
gone to the grocery store flaunting patches and a belt. I know my schedule is
tight, but that doesn't mean I should have to sacrifice choking someone I care
about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLw5qd8TsgG-TAEAOEV_CPp5scZM_sQhTfzLh3l9gpoHjgrS72IRdG1kmzE2jfyuFnFBco0_Ygr9u8l2MXuiIYp273J5GqNMbD9hQlrp_SDnmdniTaa4Le2ordLEGO2zkGa_EOLEu40U/s1600/jason+manly+2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLw5qd8TsgG-TAEAOEV_CPp5scZM_sQhTfzLh3l9gpoHjgrS72IRdG1kmzE2jfyuFnFBco0_Ygr9u8l2MXuiIYp273J5GqNMbD9hQlrp_SDnmdniTaa4Le2ordLEGO2zkGa_EOLEu40U/s320/jason+manly+2017.png" width="312" /></i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Looks like I will have to wait until 2018 to be friends with Jason. 😢</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And finally, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<b><u><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Fight With Husband<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "Segoe UI", sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I don't care what he has scheduled, Jiu jitsu is sacred time. He
best not get in the way! (I’m pretty sure I can take him!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-60939679878846023232016-12-08T21:36:00.000-05:002016-12-08T21:36:16.700-05:00Beat Down Off the Mat<div class="MsoNormal">
I expect to get a run for my money on the jiu jitsu mat. But I wasn't expecting one off the mat this Thanksgiving when I visited a gym with Cousin of Shark Girl.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I traveled back to my hometown. Cousin of Shark Girl was at dinner, and we made plans to catch a class the next morning to roll off all that pasta and stuffing. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://uvmbored.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Chicken-Carrot-Spaghetti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://uvmbored.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Chicken-Carrot-Spaghetti.jpg" height="167" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;">
<i>Yes, pasta. We </i>are <i>Italian American!</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cousin and I were the first there, except for a man in his thirties,
kind of oddly shaped and out of shape. He seemed out of place for a
high-powered jiu jitsu class. While
my cousin changed, the man, I’ll call him Silvio, asked us what we did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We’re
teachers,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
do you teach?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“He
teaches physics,” I pointed to the curtain behind which my cousin was changing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“She
teaches Latin,” Cousin called from behind the curtain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are
you married?” We get that a lot when we visit gyms together. Most people think
we are a couple, not related.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, we’re
cousins.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh. I
thought you were married.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nope.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“So . .
.” Silvio hesitated. I held my breath. I knew this was going to be good. “Latin, huh?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yep.” There are basically 3 reactions I get when people find out I teach Latin:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
#1 Isn’t that a dead language?<br /> #2 I took that in high school
thirty years ago. I hated it.<br /> #3 I took that in high school thirty
years ago. I loved it. Let me recite something for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This looked like it was headed toward response #1.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What’s
the point of that?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Seriously?
You are not seriously asking me that?</i> By this time, I realized that “Silvio” had
some issues that I should, as a sensitive person, be alert to and compassionate
about. But this just pushed my buttons. Sometimes patience is beyond my reach.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What
do YOU do?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Nothing.”
he replied.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Round 1
goes to the Latin teacher. But not a very sweet victory.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-81107150113845194292016-10-21T18:58:00.000-04:002016-10-21T18:58:19.123-04:00Mo Milk, Mo Problems Or, Shark Girl’s Bougie Coffee Dilemma<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">As an aging practitioner of
jiu jitsu, I find it more important than ever to watch what I put in my body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ4wLG-IgTrFfTum9momRgobzo-JTdk_RqT2zBej5SPicLhXz1s" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ4wLG-IgTrFfTum9momRgobzo-JTdk_RqT2zBej5SPicLhXz1s" /></i></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Like, I'm watching these Cheez-Its very carefully as I stuff them in my mouth.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">For a few years now, I have
been on the alert to cow’s milk. Too much causes my system . . . distress . . .
to put it politely. I have been limiting my consumption of milk and cheese, and
it has been good for the environment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Last year, in a bid to find
out whether I had an actual intolerance to milk, I tried to do a breath test
with my GI. That didn’t work out too well. I almost passed out doing the carb-deprivation prep and couldn’t take the
test.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">This year I am seeing a
naturopath. We decided to cut out milk for a while and see what happens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After two weeks, I felt like
my morning fog cleared up. I had no bloating, even during my period. I felt “skinny.”
I missed milk and milk products immensely. I craved cheese and delighted in
sneaking cookies that I “couldn’t <i>really</i>
be sure” contained butter. And I substituted soy milk in my morning cappuccino.
Not great, but tolerable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Then, the soy started
affecting me worse than the milk. I tried almond milk—<i>ick</i> in coffee. (Two bitters do not make a right!) Then I tried coconut
milk—it was like drinking water with a little coffee powder sprinkled in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSAQyEQvQlAHZztuC1GV4SB_jFISp2cPMJXVzwAhu-xpdnO3KFs" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSAQyEQvQlAHZztuC1GV4SB_jFISp2cPMJXVzwAhu-xpdnO3KFs" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>That's real milk on the left, folks, and all the others on the right!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Alas, because I couldn’t find
a proper substitute, I went back to milk in my morning capp. And it didn’t stop
there. Hell, after my milk-deprivation I went crazy and made a fabulous pasta
with cream sauce, peas and prosciutto. Then I ate all sorts of my favorite
cheeses like cheddar and manchego. I wolfed down cookie dough by the spoonful
and then the cookies that actually got made. Mom’s lasagna? Seconds, please.
Ben & Jerry’s? It would be rude to say no. It was a backlash that would
give Bossie a concussion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I think I am finally ready to
try going milkless again after my bender, but I need your help. I am writing to
you, Gentle Readers, to ask you two questions:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
1) <span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">What are your
experiences with milk, on and off the wagon?</span><br /><br />and<br /><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> <span style="font-size: small;"> 2)</span> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">What the hell can
I put in my morning cappuccino that will make my naturopath, my digestive
system, <i>and</i> my inner foodie happy? I
am not going black in the AM, folks. That is barbaric.</span><br /><!--[if !supportLists]--><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-88173587401578418752016-10-02T19:19:00.000-04:002016-10-02T19:19:59.259-04:00The Berimbolo Kid<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Euphemia, sans-serif;">I recently visited
another school’s Open Mat. I had a fine time training with some women,
something I don’t get to do very often. It is always easier to approach the
women at a new school, so I do that first, if I can. After a few rounds with
the ladies, it was approach someone new or sit it out. I looked around for
someone who might be willing to train with my petite ass. I spied a guy, not
too much bigger than me, but muscular and compact. He was sweating from a
previous roll and wearing a white belt, one stripe.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
<i>Perfect</i>. I thought. <i>Not too big—if he goes nuts I can handle
him. A little tired, so he may have gotten some aggression out.</i> I went up and
asked him to dance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
“Sure,” he said. We tapped hands and jockeyed for position.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
As always, when I roll with someone new, I try to respond to what
they give me to get a sense of whether they are skilled and restrained or some
crazy knee twister. With guys, I am always aware of the ego. In some men, ego
can trigger EIIB—erratic, injury-inducing behavior . . . aka spazzing out. I’ve
had my share of spazzing–out injuries and I really don’t need another. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
This guy seemed to know a few things and was not too wacky.
Between the initial grip fighting, I started small talk. I find small talk
helps disarm tension that could lead to, you know, EIIB. I learned that this
guy was about a year into Jiu jitsu. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">We
grip fought for a while, and then swept me. I countered, reguarding. He opened
my guard, passed it, and pushed forward, hard. I hip escaped and reguarded,
pulling him down. We went like that for while, and then he went for something .
. . hard. When he didn’t get it, he shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
“Are you working on something?” I asked, figuring he was practicing
some move on me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Ahh,
yeah. The berimbolo. I just can’t seem to get it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
“Oh, I see.” I reguarded . . . both physically and mentally. My
mental reguard was something like: <i>Hmmm .
. . one-stripe white belt can’t seem to get the berimbolo down. I better watch
out for this one or I’m the next YouTube video casualty.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
He lunged at me and arm–dragged me, looking for a Kimura. I wriggled out
and snuck to his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">
“Kimura, ey?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“You
want to try it again?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Nah.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Kay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">I
moved toward a sweep myself, spidering my right foot on the crook of his left
arm. My foot fell through and he clamped down. <i>He’s going for a footlock.</i> I play so much open guard I can see that
a mile away. I punched my foot through to the other side of his armpit. He grabbed
at my ankle but it was too late, I was already through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">I
noticed his hand was swollen. It looked like a latex glove after someone blows
air into it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“What’s
that?” I asked. “Everything okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yeah,
my hand is screwed up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Too
much grip fighting?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Okay.
I’ll stay away from it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Nah,
you don’t have to. It’s all right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Maybe,
but I’ll stay away. Injuries suck. Both my knees have had ‘em.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Oh,
your knees?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“So
I’ll stay away from the heel hooks then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Hahaha!”
I laughed, but he wasn’t laughing with me. Was he serious? “Wait . . .
were you trying to heel hook me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Yes,
NO heel hooks, please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“OK.
Glad you said something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">“Me,
too.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Euphemia",sans-serif;">I
finished up the roll as soon politely possible (there were no timers) and moved
on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-50935502831716053712016-09-19T21:48:00.000-04:002016-09-19T21:48:52.222-04:00Goal Setting: Not Shark Girl's Forte<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Well it is back to school and full confession:
Once again I did not meet my summer jiu jitsu goal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My summer goal is always the same: more jiu
jitsu. And I always start off thinking I can accomplish this goal, plus run
more and finally organize my house and get my finances in order and finish up
all those half-started home projects. <i>Wait!</i>
Come to think of it, I didn't meet my <i>other</i>
summer goals, either!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cdn.images.postach.io/462947d1-505a-46d1-964a-b1ab3e77857f/89a1359c-16fe-4827-9078-b77662deab0c/3e381a45-3b47-4680-9812-825453a0605c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn.images.postach.io/462947d1-505a-46d1-964a-b1ab3e77857f/89a1359c-16fe-4827-9078-b77662deab0c/3e381a45-3b47-4680-9812-825453a0605c.jpg" height="200" width="196" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It happens all the time . .
. grand expectations meet with the constraints of time and the reality of
running a household with two children. This summer, I think I did the <i>least</i> amount of jiu jitsu than I have at
any point in my jiu jitsu career. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now it is fall, and all my
hopes of meeting <i>any</i> of those goals
are out the window. I have switched to my fall goal, which is <i>also</i> always the same: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Make work
A PART of my life, not my whole life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is a difficult goal
when you are a teacher. There are always lessons to plan, papers to grade,
curriculum to develop, colleagues to collaborate with, special projects to work
on, meetings to attend, personal interactions to reflect and improve upon. I've
had this same fall goal for 20 years and I've never met it, either. I am
foolish to think <i>this</i> will be the
year. But, I am <i>always</i> a fool. <i>Every year</i>. Every September, I am full
of hope—more a wish and prayer—that I can keep <i>this</i> year under control, in perspective. It is usually November
before I give it up for a lost cause and plunge myself into a darkness I do not
recover from until sometime in April, when the sun starts to warm my part of
the earth again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT5j2k2pp3LJ7OoEyC3kDJRW3gZ8xy6yT0-YY2eOECQqgys3Emg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT5j2k2pp3LJ7OoEyC3kDJRW3gZ8xy6yT0-YY2eOECQqgys3Emg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Or an ear bitten off?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And then I stare summer in
the face, and break out my other recurring goal: <i>more jiu jitsu</i>! This <i>is the
year I will make it all fit together. Because of all the crazy time I will put
on the mat, I will see the connections and become the air around my
opponent! <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">But then the children call.
And the house calls. And the family calls. And the unbalanced check book calls.
And the sun calls, too, and says, "Shark Girl, if you go to jiu jitsu you
will not see me. Why not run instead?" And then it turns 90 degrees and
humid and I do not want to do anything except sprawl on a couch and moan while
sweat inches down my limbs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is the cycle of life,
my friends. Moving from unrealized goal to unrealized goal. The turn of the
seasons never changes but always promises change. Maybe <i>this</i> is Shark Girl’s year! <i>Maybe
this is the year I will do it all! I will be the bad-ass, super-mom jiu jitsu
mastering, life-changing educator with a solid financial future that I always
dream I can be!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">As we say in Latin: <i>dum spiro spero</i>: while I am breathing, I
hope.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR2bXYtTTgd5-h0CJ0-9O5HWnFZACjHyDF-0aXRNt7aFxXzUF4dJw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR2bXYtTTgd5-h0CJ0-9O5HWnFZACjHyDF-0aXRNt7aFxXzUF4dJw" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Wow! With a quick Google Search, I found out just how many people have this saying tattooed all over their body. Not for the faint of heart!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "euphemia" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-36909173126987561342016-08-03T23:16:00.000-04:002016-08-04T15:51:53.720-04:00Sometimes You Eat the Bear . . .<b>. . . and sometimes the bear eats you."</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I heard this quote on our new favorite family TV show, <i>Granite Flats</i>. Husband, me, and The Two Boys have revolving favorite family shows that we watch together. For a while it was <i>Merlin</i>, then <i>Gortimer Gibbons</i>; you get the idea. <i>Granite Flats</i> is our new favorite. It's about three detectivey pre-teens who mix it up with Cold-War espionage. Perfect family viewing. It's done by the Mormon Brigham Young University and there are references to God and being saved, but there has been nothing (so far) that has been too preachy for us liberal, New-England types. Except the pastor. Pastor Todd, is a little creepy. Mother of Shark Girl thinks he is "nice." It must be her '50s sensibilities; I think he's got a stalker smile and looks predacious. <i>Vive la difference.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMjM3NTU2MTM1Ml5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMjg3MTY2NjE@._V1_UY99_CR25,0,99,99_AL_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMjM3NTU2MTM1Ml5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwMjg3MTY2NjE@._V1_UY99_CR25,0,99,99_AL_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Pastor Todd"<br />Okay, here he looks kind of cute, but on the show there is a huge creep factor. I'm sorry, Actor Who Plays Pastor Todd; I am sure you are a very nice guy! I bet the director makes you smile that way!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i></i>On my way home from jiu jitsu recently, I thought of <i>Granite Flats</i> and that quote, said by one of the pre-teens after a particularly fruitless day of detectiving. That's what I felt like after that jiu jitsu class--that the bear had eaten me. And the bear was a newbie, white-belt young girl, fighting for her dear life, and (almost) winning. She was strong as a bear, actually.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTFBb8_OSgLLF1xsgvgSCNqFvdj2Wl5Jtc-MU23hrwzEq8EmY_f7A" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTFBb8_OSgLLF1xsgvgSCNqFvdj2Wl5Jtc-MU23hrwzEq8EmY_f7A" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ummmm, not sure why she had to go </i>here<i>. . . .</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now I can think of lots of excuses why the bear ate me that night, some relating to me and others the environment I train in. But I'm not here to make excuses (tonight). Back in <a href="http://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2016/05/this-shark-girl-is-on-fire.html" target="_blank">May</a>, <i>I ate the bear. </i>That night, the bear ate me. I should have crushed her. I should have been a wrecking ball (with my clothes on and not licking dumbbells, Miley Cyrus!). And I was making mistakes. I was ready to turn in my belt. Seriously, who <b>AM </b>I? Who do I think I am playing with this jiu jitsu shit? I've either got to step up my game or <i>get off the matt. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i> </i>And so, Gentle Readers, tonight I leave you with a lighter for me and my ego. . .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01292/lighter_1292320c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01292/lighter_1292320c.jpg" height="123" width="200" /></a></div>
. . . and more metaphors about the volatility of learning jiu jitsu with this great, old, song "The Bug":<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/q_rbjg2k6cI/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/q_rbjg2k6cI?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You may prefer the <a href="https://youtu.be/JIHMN1rFi9s" target="_blank">Dire Straits version</a>; it was written by Mark Knopfler and covered by Mary Chapin Carpenter in 1992. Tonight I'm feeling a bit Mary Chapin Carpenter. And very much like "The Bug."</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-39992340716509975662016-06-22T11:39:00.001-04:002016-06-22T11:39:07.331-04:00On Taking Notes<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“All right guys, do you remember the new
verbs we learned yesterday?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Silence. Dead silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Okay, let's look at our notes from
yesterday to see if that jogs our memory.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Not a rustle of paper in the group of
twenty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Okay, then, take out your notebooks—you’re
going to want to take notes on these.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Not a hair of movement in the whole class,
and twenty blank faces staring at me. <i>Was I speaking English?</i> They seemed not
to think so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“Don't you keep notebooks?” I asked
warily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">That got a few mumbles from my
mostly-junior class. “Er, ummm . . . .” Some glances down at the shoelaces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="http://www.cse.buffalo.edu/~rapaport/betty.notetaking" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://www.cse.buffalo.edu/~rapaport/betty.notetaking" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I launched onto my soap box and discussed
the brain biology behind learning, how we actually learn by trying to remember—that’s
what stretches the brain’s pathways to information.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">By this time a notebook or two had
appeared. “Hey, when you really want to remember something, and it’s important,
if you write it down, then you can look back at it and it will help you
remember it. You know,” I confessed, “I always jot down notes when I come back
from jiu jitsu. Even though it’s not academic, it’s a sport, I come home and
review what I have learned. I put it in a notebook so I can look back at it
later, because it is important to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">“What?” A student gasped incredulously. “You
take notes after your jiu jitsu class? That takes all the fun out of it!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sure, if “fun” is defined as repeating the
same mistakes over and over again, struggling to remember that great move you
thought would totally open up your game, and getting caught in the same
submission class after class after class, then, yes, <i>fun removed</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
I started jiu jitsu, I didn’t write down anything. I saw the blogs and the logs
of jiu jitsu practitioners’ classes and I reacted like that gasping student,
without the gasps. Jiu jitsu was supposed to be<i> </i>a break from <i>have-tos</i>
and <i>shoulds</i>. If I came home and took
notes, I was just adding another chore to my already too-long list. I understood
<i>why</i> people did it, but that wasn’t for
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I grudgingly started taking a few notes at
the urging of a fellow student. I struggled with the best way to organize my
notebook, but in the end realized that just getting something down was the most
important part.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I still am not consistent in my
notes. I take them when I see something I <i>really</i>
don’t want to forget. And the visuals. How do you put in words exactly how to
move your body in this jiu jitsu way? My notes are filled with stick figures in
weird embraces. And I have quirky little names and abbreviations for different
sides and movements. When I look back at my notes, I have to decipher my own
code. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Trying to remember what I meant when I
wrote the notes, I mentally go through the move, practicing it one way, now
another<i>. I must have meant </i>this<i> way</i>, I think to myself, and then redo
the move in my mind until it makes sense. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; text-indent: 0.5in;">That is what helps me learn.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; text-indent: .5in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-43317636812721941562016-05-08T21:36:00.001-04:002016-05-08T21:36:06.030-04:00This (Shark) Girl Is on Fire<div class="MsoNormal">
I went to a workshop where I pretty much sat for four days.
Before dinner, I got a kick-ass run in at the hotel gym. But for four days it
was an intense, cerebral experience. The night I returned was a jiu jitsu night.
I kissed Husband and Kids lovingly, promised to catch up with them later, and
then hurried off to class. I had already missed one class for this workshop, I didn’t want to
miss another. And my family could wait a couple more hours to connect with me.
They know my life priorities: 1) coffee 2) jiu jitsu 3) family 4) work. It was
time for priority #2.<o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BhUqh6pIEAE7goL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/BhUqh6pIEAE7goL.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I love you, jiu jitsu, but coffee will always come first!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes,
when I have been off the mat for a while, I gingerly step back on, worried I’ve
lost all my accumulated knowledge. I tentatively tap hands, make excuses with an
injury or how tired I am, and move my limbs like dead tree branches attached to
my trunk.<o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2031/2541074654_ccfffa3e20_z.jpg?zz=1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2031/2541074654_ccfffa3e20_z.jpg?zz=1" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sorry, I didn't mean to scratch you with my legs!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then
there are other times, like that night. My head was a fog. I couldn’t retain
two instructions that my Prof said. “Were we supposed to start in side?” “Did
he wasn’t us to go twice?” But when it came time to spar, I was a hound
unleashed, unstoppable. I moved around all obstacles, quick quick. My opponents
had no idea where I was going next. My muscles had their own mind and moved
without instructions from my head. Where was this coming from?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was
a magical night. My favorite partner was a rag doll, moving the way I wanted
him to, and when he didn’t, I just switched my position and complicated things
again. I was having so much fun in my own little reverie that I almost felt
guilty. I wanted to roll with Favorite Partner again, but was that fair? Was it
fair to ask for a reroll because I was kicking his ass? I went easy on him the
second time so as not to hurt his ego, but it wasn’t as satisfying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Then, when I went with Prof, I
could sense he was easing into the roll, trying to get a feel for where I was
at that night. I didn’t give him a chance. I caught him in a choke before he
even realized we had started. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I rolled with a few more guys and
it was the same thing. I was water on a hot frying pan, dancing around and
frustrating my opponents. It felt so good, but so bad at the same time. I was
powerful, strong, accomplished and winning. And every time I flushed with
pride, I thought, “I can’t do this to so-and-so. How does this make him feel?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
After Prof’s roll, he said, “Wow,
Shark Girl’s on fire tonight.” I was. And when the class was done, I wanted
more. But I packed my bag and went home, knowing that next time I wouldn’t have
this same experience, and hoping it would come again soon.<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hdwBiyzf0BO_L4YqbZPByMsWW5MwNu21wWBH8ZMxq-FKaVKdJ0OgtpObS59qD-tbD3tyKbPlgwTSDaIIuDs93yO4w_MyOXwA7gcdW-iDunFthBvjThzrzCcr-3Baa0wD5bdx_DZOVUU/s1600/shark+girl+on+fire.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hdwBiyzf0BO_L4YqbZPByMsWW5MwNu21wWBH8ZMxq-FKaVKdJ0OgtpObS59qD-tbD3tyKbPlgwTSDaIIuDs93yO4w_MyOXwA7gcdW-iDunFthBvjThzrzCcr-3Baa0wD5bdx_DZOVUU/s200/shark+girl+on+fire.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-4999994881905754942016-04-03T15:05:00.001-04:002016-04-07T06:06:14.249-04:00"Let's Fuck in the Pool."<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now that I have your attention . . .</span><br />
<br />
That got <i>my</i> attention, too, when<span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"> I was on the patio of the Oyster Bar, having just ordered dinner and a glass of wine. 9-Year Old Son was sitting across from me.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><i>By now you have guessed this post is not safe for work. There will be colorful language. You will wonder what it is with Shark Girl and devil-may-care women with low-budget highlights and even lower-budget senses of decorum. You will think something is wrong with Shark Girl, who always resorts to virtual jiu jitsu, settling her frustrations on a fantasy mat in her head. But, I swear to you, every word of this story is </i>true<i>. I did not just make this up to increase SEO.</i></span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://knoji.com/images/user/00110020(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://knoji.com/images/user/00110020(2).jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">More than one animal on your feet at a time = Red Flag.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">I looked over at the woman who said that sentence. I wasn't snooping or spying; even Pope Francis would have tuned in to that comment. And the woman was not exactly whispering. She was younger than me, probably late twenties, early thirties. Her long hair's original color was lost to a mottling of blond and brown highlights. My eyes trailed to the ground to notice her crossed legs exposed from the knee down, ending in a pair of kitten-heeled mules.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Ac</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 17px;">ross from her was a man of similar age, awestruck of her (or his good fortune). He was speaking more quietly. He seemed sheepish about her loud forthrightness, but he wasn't about to screw this up. (You'd have to be a eunuch to screw this one up.)</span><br />
<br />I motioned with my eyes toward my little boy sitting three feet away from her--the universal mother sign for, "Hey, there's a kid over here, tone it down." Most humans, in my experience, even the most hardened folk, respect that sign. A crooked smile crossed the woman's lips and her eyes turned back to her partner and his dumb gaze. Perhaps my son hadn't heard her. So she continued:<br />
". . . we'll fuck for three hours straight. We won't get much sleep."<br />
The man said something in a normal diner's tone, so I couldn't hear it. She responded, "Oh, I'll find you a brunch spot . . . . It will be breakfast in bed."<br />
I started to feel a little, but not too, bad for her dining companion.<br />
The woman looked over again to see my reaction. I imagined her sizing me up before she made her next comment:<br />
<i> Square, middle-aged mother, frumpy in a hoodie and flip flops, hair and face unmade. Prudish, concerned about the word 'fuck' reaching her precious son's ears. This will really offend her!</i><br />
And then she added: "Like what could she say to her father? I'm 16 and I'm going to fuck?"<br />
<br />
I mulled over politely asking the woman to keep her softcore porn to herself. I played scenarios in my head like jiu jitsu matches, and strangely, every scenario <i>ended </i>in a jiu jitsu match (with me winning, of course). I think I was fantasizing more about taking her down than the man across from her was!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.all-fish-seafood-recipes.com/images/Oysters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.all-fish-seafood-recipes.com/images/Oysters.jpg" height="117" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oysters, anyone?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"></span></span><br style="color: black;" /> The woman's bawdy banter continued:<br />
"Oh, look!" She took out her phone. "I've got a follower in Finland!" She exclaimed. She went on to read the Finlandian's post. <i>That </i>I couldn't hear. "I'm kind of a big deal on the Internet, and it's not even porn! I'm a <i>lifestyle blogger</i>!"<div>
<br /></div>
<i>Are you </i>shitting <i>me?</i> I thought. She <i>has a follower in Finland? </i>I'm <i>a lifestyle blogger, Do </i>I<i> have any followers in Finland? Fuck if she has more than me. I know we are supposed to leave our egos at the door, but </i>shit<i>!</i><div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
I looked over at 9-year old. He was staring sadly into the restaurant."How are you doing honey?" I asked him.<br />
"Okay . . . can we move inside?"<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br style="color: black; font-family: 'helvetica neue', 'segoe ui', helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "segoe ui" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span> "Are you cold?" I was still hoping he hadn't heard this woman's cries for attention, but that was an impossibility.<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br style="color: black;" /></span></span><span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span>His lips pursed together into a frown and he rolled his eyes in Pool Fuck Lady's direction<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;">.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span>"Oh," I said. "Is she bothering you?"<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br style="color: black;" /></span></span><span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span>He nodded.<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br style="color: black; font-family: 'helvetica neue', 'segoe ui', helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif;" /></span><span style="font-family: helvetica neue, segoe ui, helvetica, arial, lucida grande, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span>I caught the host's attention and asked if we could move inside.<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br style="color: black;" /></span></span><span style="font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span>"I'll find you a table,"he said.<br />
<br />
Our food came out, just as the inside table was available. We trucked our plates and utensils away<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.701961); font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px;">.</span></span><br style="color: black;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 17px;"> </span></span></span>Inside, 9 year old was much more animated. Alas, he also was more vigilant. It became harder to nick his French fries, which were quite delicious.<br />
<br />A few minutes later I noticed that another group near Pool Fuck Lady had moved inside, too. Apparently, she was a bigger deal on the Internet than she was at the Oyster Bar! </div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-11721322870377550862016-03-20T11:39:00.000-04:002016-03-20T11:39:04.490-04:00Husbands Just Don't Understand<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I think Husband is eager for me to go back to jiu jitsu.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I've been out with an injury. He's worried he might get injured, too. You see, I'm jonesing to grapple, and he bears the brunt of this.</div>
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<br /></div>
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This evening, he found himself in a triangle choke and a wrist lock, just for being friendly. He wasn't amused. (But he does have the perfect-sized neck for me to snake my legs around. I had a nice clinch!) He stared up at me with blank, doe-like eyes that seemed to say, <i>Yes, I know you can do that. Brava. Now, shall we proceed as planned?</i></div>
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And then a little while later, I just started laughing out loud. Not what most men want to hear in bed.</div>
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"What is so funny?" he said.</div>
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"Nothing, nothing . . . "</div>
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"Well, it must be something . . . "</div>
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"Okay," I confessed. "I was looking for your lapel to grab on to, but then I realized we were doing 'no gi.'" I cracked up again.</div>
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Husband was not amused. "Can we just continue?" he sighed.</div>
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"Agreed," I said, and I swept him to mount.</div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3995732225051832071.post-30785162589879543172016-01-23T22:47:00.000-05:002016-01-23T22:47:36.258-05:00Crazy Shit, Part 2<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<i>You can read the first part of this story <a href="http://sharkgirlbjj.blogspot.com/2016/01/crazy-shit-that-goes-through-bjj-girls.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>Trashy Lady in the Shitty Teal Car is going to try to pass me to show her dominance.</i> I thought. I had the urge to speed up. <i>No. Don't play her game. Play your game. Her game is sloppy and ill-thought out. Keep your cool.</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Trashy Lady sped up and hugged the back of the car in front of her, looking for the opportunity to cut me off. I stayed my course.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Then, when she could, she crossed in front of me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Oh, she gave you the dragon look!" Oldest Son said.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Get her, Mom!" Youngest Son cheered me on.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "No," I replied. <i>She doesn't have that kind of control over me. I'm doing </i>my <i>thing.</i> </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Come on! It will be fun! Get her!"</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img alt="Image result for highway breakdown lane" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" height="150" jsaction="load:str.tbn" name="H8YsQ1sdmmzz9M:" 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" 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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Okay, I will be honest, I had already succumbed to sending her the finger back. And I felt a rush of adrenaline when she was next to me. But then I got a look at her. A good look at her:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Probably early 30s, bad dye and highlight job, put up in a messy ponytail that needed some washing. Fleshy, out of shape, but not obese. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Miraculously, I was on the mat. <i>What if she started something? How would I take her down?</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> She was not athletic, but she was big boned. This means that she was dead weight. I probably had more skill than she did, but I was much smaller and that dead weight would be tough to throw. Would I hip toss her? Should I try a foot sweep? I settle on a hip toss, ending up in knee ride. From there I could shift my weight into her armpit and perhaps go for an arm bar. How would she react to that? Would she turn in and escape my knee ride? My left leg would go for head control over her face, pushing it way from me. She wouldn't be able to get up from that, I was sure. She is probably not used to having someone's muscly leg flattening out her nose. She will hate that. They always hate that.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Trashy Lady didn't look like she would be stiff jointed, so I calculated in her flexibility. How much strength would I need to flip her? Where would my hips fall in relation to hers? What kind of control could I expect to maintain throughout the throw, given her weight and my strength?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I know it is totally messed up, but these thoughts brought a calmness over me, one that helped me stop the flow of adrenaline and be in control of the situation.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> She pulled her car in front of mine, accelerated, and then proceeded to weave all over the lane. At one point she thought the breakdown lane was a driving lane and swerved out of it at the last minute. I had noticed these white-belt driving maneuvers, and by this time I was consciously a healthy distance behind her. I don't need someone spazzing out all over my car. I've got children in the back. She has no children in her car. The stakes are different for her. Just like those twenty year olds with the knees that never seem to pop, she has nothing to protect. I'll proceed cautiously.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I followed behind her for some time, my boys chattering in the back.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Come on mom, pass her!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "It will be funny!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Get up there Mom!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Haha I can't believe you gave her the finger!"</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "Boys, <i>she </i>is not in control of me. <i>I </i>am in control." I reiterated.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I watched her pull of the exit and I kept moving forward. But I was kind of sad I never got to try out my hip throw on her. That was going to be sweet.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
Shark Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00614995646635993850noreply@blogger.com0