Shark Girl Needs to Get Her Blog On

Here’s what happened last night in the Shark Girl household:

Dinner, 9:00 PM

“So, honey, I was rolling with a PLD (Particularly Large Dude) tonight,” Shark Girl said over her burrito.

            “Mmm hmm,” Husband absently replied.

            “He complimented me on a move I used. It wasn’t the nicest move, but PLD is over twice my weight. His arm is the size of my thigh!” I continued.

            “Mmm hmm,” Husband absently replied.

            “He said that I was putting a lot of pressure on him and it was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable! I made PLD uncomfortable!”

            “Mmm hmm,” Husband murmured, reaching for a stray section of the New York Times.

            “I said I was sorry for using a ‘mean’ tactic, but that I felt I had to or I wouldn’t have gotten out of his half guard.”

            “Mmm hmm.” Husband flipped a page.

            “He said that I should use it every time, and that I might even get taps from it!”

            “Oh, hey,” Husband said, here’s that piece on Dog Day Afternoon you were talking about.”

Before Bed, 11:30 PM

“So, can I show you the technique from tonight?” Shark Girl segued after helping Husband come up with a Scrabble play.

            “Su-rr-e,” Husband dragged out the pronunciation of this word, expanding it to three syllables.

            “Okay. Come over here.” I led him to the bed. At this point, most husbands would start to get very excited. Husband, however, sighed audibly and, with a look of resignation, got ready to lie on the floor. “No, you can get on the bed this time.”

            “Hhhhh, okay. Watch the back.”

            I positioned our bodies correctly, and showed him how I would, if we were sparring, drive all my weight into my knee and maneuver properly to cause serious discomfort. “But I won’t actually do it,” I assured him.

            “Why not?” Did he say that? Really? Mr. Don’t-Hurt-My-Back-Ouch-I’m-Going-To-Feel-That-Tomorrow was asking me to bring it? I wasn’t falling for that trick.

            “No, but can you imagine what that would feel like?”

            “No. I don’t get it.”

            Now the sigh came from me.

Sharing the Bathroom, 11:45 PM

“Well, it’s very exciting, because one of the principles of jiu jitsu is that a person may be stronger than me, but their arm isn’t stronger than my whole body.”

            “Mmm hmm,” I could see the veil come down over Husband’s eyes, like that clear eyelid that reptiles have to shield their eyes from desert dust. The sound of his tooth brush filled the room.

            “And I may weigh 108 pounds, but when I focus all that weight onto one point of my body and put it on you, well, that’s not going to feel good.”

            “Hmm . . . oh, I canceled that meeting that I was telling you about.”

            [Pause] “Sweetie, thank you for tolerating my jiu jitsu talk.” Shark Girl gave Husband a kiss on the cheek.

If You're Looking for a Fight

[For multimedia experience, press "play" on Looking for a Fight, below.]

Has BJJ changed the way you look at conflicts?

When faced with a conflict, I usually feel adrenaline and nervousness. My mind races—how can I get what I want out of this?

I noticed the strangest thing the last few times conflict arose. It was almost excitement. How would this turn out? My mind traversed possible paths and outcomes. Then a smile crept over my face, much like the one that curls up on me when I slap someone’s hand in congeniality before a grapple.

“We better play Sporcle today, or else!” a student tossed out on the last day of school. “Is that a threat?” I asked, grinning happily, almost stretching out my hand for the initiating slap. (We did play Sporcle, but it was content-related!) Approaching the boss about getting something that costs a lot of money? What take-down should I use?

BJJ has helped me see and feel what I knew intellectually: that a conflict isn’t a beginning, middle, and end, it is a web of responses just like a jiu jitsu match. It doesn’t have to be stressful. It can be fun.

We recently went to see the Sweetback Sisters perform. In fact, we went through a lot to see them perform. Our car broke down on the highway en route, and, kids in tow, I took a cab to Enterprise Rent-a-Car, hopped into the “only model they had on the lot” (a swanky Grand Marquis—totally felt like Grandma), picked up Husband at the AAA–approved mechanic nearest us, and continued on our journey.

Today in the car I was singing their song, Looking for a Fight.

Find more The Sweetback Sisters songs at Myspace Music

Husband, who now assumes that I’m thinking about BJJ all the time, gave me a funny look. “I’m wondering . . . if the concert had been on [night you practice jiu jitsu] or [other night you practice jiu jitsu], would we have gone?” I evaded the question. I wasn’t looking for a fight.

To Compete or Not to Compete?

Shark Girl is thinking of competing.

I know, I know. Here comes the fear again.

I’m used to sparring with my regulars. I know how they put submissions on. I know when I need to tap. I know how they roll. In a competition, I will know none of that. What if I get injured? More importantly, can my fragile ego take getting owned? What if I don’t know all the rules and I break one?

On the other hand, what else am I training for? It will be a good chance to see my skill development.

I have read posts from first time (scared) competers like me, who afterward are so glad they did it. I suppose one never knows if they will like it until they try. And if Shark Girl doesn’t like it, she never has to do it again, right?

I welcome your thoughts and advice on this subject. At this point, I have made no final decision. But I do have another, perhaps tougher, question.

Which division? The divisions run from one to six months of experience, and from seven months to two years of experience. I have been training since the last week of November. Technically, I have 7 months of training. However, I have six months of gi training and one month of nogi training. Do I count the whole seven months? Or do I break it down? I will admit it scares me a little to compete with folks who have been doing it for two years, but I am no sandbagger.

Jiu Jitsu Book Club!

Why?

Because I want to.

Because it’s summer and that means summer reading!

Because no one else will invite a fighter girl into their refined book discussion group.

Because, damn it, we may choke out our competition, but we do it with intellectual (aka nerdy) style!

Because, in the last few months, I have come to value the opinions and perspectives of the readers and bloggers I have met online.

So, here’s the deal . . .

I created a Google Group for anyone who wants to read a book together and discuss it from our unique jiu jitsu perspectives. (I just started reading Yann Martel’s Beatrice and Virgil—we could read that or another choice selected by the group.)

So, if you wanna get your discussion on, follow the link here or below.

What I Love About BJJ

I’m a Busy Mother of Two. I never seem to have enough time to do the things that need doing.

Laundry? Piled Up.

Dishes? Dirty in the dishwasher and in the sink.

Bills? Stacked high.

Car? Low on gas.

The list goes on.

I also never have enough hands.

            I can’t pick up my child’s dropped toy and drive at the same time.

            When leaving a store carrying a shopping bag, I only have one other hand for holding. This always causes an argument between my sons.

            Cleaning up? There’s invariably one more thing than I can comfortably carry without dropping the whole armload.

Since I was a young fry I’ve recognized the value an extra opposable appendage might bestow. I’ve always used my feet for things like picking up a stray sock. Hey, it saves me from bending over! The fascination continued into college when one wacky night my Friend and I practiced writing the Greek alphabet with a pencil between our toes. We titled the paper (in footwriting), “It’s All Greek to Feet.” (Yeah. Shark Girl went wild in college.)

What’s great about jiu jitsu is that it trains you to use other parts of your body as hands. I am learning to use not only my feet, but my knees, my elbows, my hips, my shins . . . pretty much anything I can, like my hands. And the thing about that is, well, when you’re using your feet as hands, you still have two hands left over!

Jiu jitsu just could be the answer to all the harried mother problems of the world!

Not now . . . but maybe in a few years!

Oh, by the way, Busy Mother of Two just got less busy! Welcome summer!

Fashion Hel(l)p!

Help!

No gi classes have started and I’m in fashion hell. The gi was great. I knew exactly what to wear. But this no gi thing. Ack.

First there’s the pants problem. All the sports shorts I have are too short. They’ll show the curve of my butt cheek as soon as I hit the mat. I have resorted to a couple of old bicycle-style shorts circa 1990. They function well. They don’t ride up. I don’t mind sweating in them because they’re ancient, er, vintage. Apparently they came back in style two years ago ("work, 'em, ladies 'n' gents"!). It seems like that problem is solved. But then you get to the shirt.

If it’s hot, I’d prefer to wear a tank top (sports bra underneath). But when I put on the tank with the bike shorts, I don’t know. . . . I feel too . . . curvy to be getting all hot-and-sweaty grapply with the guys. The gi covered everything and hid my womanhood. (I suppose this is why some people favor uniforms, at school or other places. People can focus on the work instead of the clothes and what’s showing or not. Oh, please, bring back my jiu jitsu uniform! If only it weren’t so goddamned hot!)

In a rare show of modesty, I have resorted to the bike shorts and a handful of tees that have met certain rigorous Shark Girl standards:

1) not too heavyweight;

2) not too large for Shark Girl’s dainty frame;

3) not too stretchy for jiu jitsu.

That’s about three shirts. I suppose I can live with that for now. But in a few weeks I’m going to need some more rotation.

I’ve been trolling on-line for rash guards and shorts. First off, all the rash guards have brand names on them. I can’t do brand names across my chest. (That’s a pet peeve I’ll save for another day.) Second, how about some style? Only two stores seemed to have rashies with style, and all of them were upwards of $50 each. Then I found some cute, fitted, longer yoga shorts that I thought might work well. Again, upwards of $50. If I am going to buy something new, I want it cute, comfortable, and functional. But I also don’t want to feel guilty sweating in it because it cost me half a week’s salary. I do not want to compromise my sons’ Harvard* educations because Mommy had to get the cool jiu jitsu duds. Is that too much for a Shark Girl to ask?

So here’s where you all come in. I know this is a fashion-forward crowd. What do you no gi in?

Much Love,

Shark Girl

*or Yale; I’m not one of those fussy parents.  

My Game is Like the Pythagorean Theorem?

Today I was feeling “The Gentle Art.” I’ve recently discussed at length how I feel (sucky) about being muscled in BJJ. And how perhaps I should be flattered that some big, strong dudes feel adequately threatened by me that they must resort to muscle to contain me.

Shaquille O’Neal once described his game as “ . . . the Pythagorean theorem . .  . there is no answer.” Although there actually is an answer (C^2, dude), musclers make me feel my game is like Shaq’s, and since they can’t come up with C², their only recourse is muscling. If you’ve forgotten your high school geometry, here’s Arnold Schwarzenegger to remind you. 

Actually, if I’m being honest, musclers don’t make me feel good about my game, they make me feel sucky, as I’ve said before, just a few lines ago. But I’m trying to convince myself otherwise. Muscling makes me feel like all my hard work is meaningless. That why the frig am I bothering to roll with them? This is no “Gentle Art.”

But . . . sometimes when I roll, mostly with purple belts and above, I feel the Gentle Art. The movements can be so beautiful and graceful. It’s like dancing. Like my partner is saying, “Here, let me put you down on this mat. Oh, would you mind terribly if I stopped the flow of blood to your head?” Of course, I’m triangled before I can blink. But the beauty and grace is stunning.

I imagine Pythagoras saw the same beauty and grace in his triangles when he realized the connection between their sides. Roughness and brutishness are the domains of the novice; there is art in everything when taken to a certain level.