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Fears

My greatest fear in Jiu Jitsu?

Shitting my pants at practice or a tournament.  Either scenario has its pros and cons. Accidentally shitting yourself in practice means you’ll be forever known to your team mates as the guy who shit himself.  But paradoxically you’d be surrounded by people who would ostensibly support you through your ordeal.  Maybe they’d never bring it up again.  But it would always be lurking in the corner of your mind, a wet turd rotting away at the foundation of your confidence.

If it went down at a tournament, you could take comfort in the fact that you’ll probably never see most of those people again.  But only if you actively avoided competitions for the rest of your life.   Also, it’s a virtually certainty that it was captured on film somehow.  And there’s probably no way to kill that person who filmed it before they upload it to their tumblr, so that’s another mondo bummer.  You’d probably have to wear a wig to avoid getting stopped on the street after that shit winds up on Tosh.0.

I’ve never shit myself in either in those circumstances.  Knock on wood.  Maybe in an alternate universe I shit myself in my first class and never came back.  Maybe in another it happens every day and I’ve learned to deal with it.   I feel like I’ve pulled the best universe when it comes to not defecating all over myself and others in Jiu Jitsu.  So in that respect  I guess I should be thankful.

#BLESSED

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Awesome/Weird Places To Test Your Jiu Jitsu

Awesome: On top of a snow covered mountain, while the rest of your nomadic tribe watches.

Weird:  a gym that uses the world’s biggest Heath Bar as a mat.

Awesome:  A wizard’s lair.

Weird: Some intradimensional portal, fighting hideous pig men streaming into our reality.

Awesome: Hustler magazine’s secret underground fight club.

Weird:  Rolling atop the world’s largest mozzarella stick.

Awesome:  A No Escape style futuristic island prison, earning the respect of Ray Liotta and the other islander inmates.

Weird:  Al Yankovitch’s private fight club.

Awesome: Jesus (strong white guy carpenter version) any time, any place.

and Weird:  A time machine where you fight your dad on your 16th birthday, and realize he’s kind of a pussy.

 

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Zen Lotion

I take public transportation to get to work with the rest of the dirty, howling masses. A couple of days ago, something interesting happened on the way there.

I take the express train to get me to the office.  On the stop I hop on, the express train usually pauses for about ten minutes, so there’s a bit of a wait after I inevitably rush to get on.  I’m sitting on a bench, and across the from me sits down a beefy middle aged white guy in a crew cut and passe’ little square sunglasses.  His boots have tiny little chains on them for more traction on ice and snow.

He’s drinking a Dunkin Donuts iced tea with lemon, and he puts the drink down on the seat next to him and takes off his parka.  He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt three sizes too small.  Which is weird because it’s a 15 degree snowy day in Philadelphia.  He takes out a travel sized bottle of Cocoa Butter and proceeds to slowly, lovingly lotion his arms, neck, face, hands, and shins for the next 15 minutes.  He did it in a very deliberate precise manner that seems to indicate he does this often.

All the while, I’m focused on his iced tea, afraid that if the train started, his tea would tip over and spill everywhere; making a big fucking mess for everybody. But this guy doesn’t care.  His sole focus is a thorough application of scented lotion to fight the winter itch.  I have to admire his singular focus and mindfulness.

“One thing at a time,” his bizarre behavior tells the world.  He’s gonna do it right the first time.

I think we can all learn a lot from the weirdo’s we encounter on trains.

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