It's a small, MMA-oriented world after all

As I've been saying, I'm finishing up some activities that are financing my grappling. Well it turns out that the contact for the client I've been working with is Jeff Monson's sister-in-law. Jeff Monson, as you may recall, is a successful MMA fighter and grappler whose nickname is The Snowman, and who is 240 lbs of tattooed fury stuffed into a compact, 5'8" container on the mat, and a kind, soft-spoken gentleman off. He was also my teammate for the World Grappling Games in Antalya, Turkey last year. (I love being able to say that!)

I showed my colleague my picture of me and Jeff at the weigh-ins in Antalya the night before the WGG and she laughed out loud. To her kids, The Snowman is just Uncle Jeff, not someone who is likely to double leg the crap out of you and then hammer on your face with his fists.

I love this sport.

Training dummy

A couple weeks ago, Ouano filmed Johnny, Marcel, and me demonstrating some techniques so he could put the footage up on his website. I agreed under duress, because, I reasoned, anything I showed would be stuff that Johnny, Marcel, or Ouano had showed me, and they could obviously show it far better. But I was overruled.

Anyway, this link shows the first technique that Johnny shared. I got to be the training dummy. Check it out!

http://ouano.com/news/

(Does that technique make my butt look big?)

BTW, I'm coming to the end of my absolute busy-ness. One or two more days. Hot diggity damn! But for now, I'm tired, dehydrated, eating poorly and too much, not getting to train, squeezing in the very minimum number of XFit workouts, and not making the time to be reflective about what makes me happy.

In other words, I'm a crankypants. I'm indulging it right now and will snap out of it before the weekend.

Yet more evidence that my love of BJJ is akin to getting me to a nunnery

Actual discussion among me, Joey and Art today at the academy, started by Art's observation that some women who come to watch the UFC there (Ouano always orders it) seem reserved or uncomfortable:

Me: Well, it's intimidating to come into a huge group of dudes that you don't know.

Art: Really? I thought we were just kind of hanging out, not being intimidating.

Me: Trust me. It's hard. The entire grappling thing is intimidating for a woman. For anybody, really.

Joey: And think about it: Imagine being a woman and coming into a place where all these guys are trying to hit on you.

Me: I'm not even getting hit on and it can be intimidating. (Note, I wasn't saying that petulantly. I was just making an observation.)

Art: Well, look at your belt.

Me: What do you mean?

Joey: Seriously. No guy is going to hit on you if you are a higher rank, because that means you can kick his ass. (Art and Joey are blue belts).

Me: Really? So am I right in assuming that any guy I date who trains would have to outrank me?

Art and Joey: YES.

Art: What about dating guys who don't train?

Me: Sometimes it's easier, because there's no competition.

Joey: Sure, but would you like to be a guy who knows that his girlfriend spends most of her time rolling around with sweaty guys, ALL of whom could kick his ass?

Art: NO WAY.

Great. Just great.

More crickets

Been really busy with these various jobs. Things will definitely calm down next week; my courses will end, the consulting gig will die down considerably, and, unfortunately, I am done working at the store. More on that later. It was a sad decision, but the right one. I love everyone there, and I loved working there. But I was starting to flake on them; I was just too busy, and it wasn't fair to them. So go shop there! http://jiujitsuprogear.com! Tell 'em Val sent ya.

I have been thinking about a lot of things but not making time to write about them (any time I'm not working, I am training, doing CrossFit, or eating/sleeping). So until next weekend, when I'll be writing more again, I hope, here are a few fun facts about my training life:

• 30: percent of the sweat in my hair and on my body and clothes after lots of sparring that I estimate is actually mine.
• One: number of times I have been choked out.
• Every: number of times I have been reminded of sausage casings after struggling into a rash guard and then trying to take it off after becoming drenched in other people’s sweat.
• Google (yes, this used to be a number before it was a social phenomenon and a verb): number of times guys have said, “Oh, so you could kick my ass,” after learning that I train BJJ.
• Roughly 10: number of black eyes I have sustained while training during the time I have been keeping this blog.
• Almost 21: number of months I have been keeping this blog (started in the beginning of June 2006).

Sigh

Not much going on in my grappling life this week. Training was going really well last week: I was opening up and playing butterfly guard a bit (even started setting up and pulling off a cool sweep using a butterfly hook--and for me, that's pretty huge), I was cleaning up my counter to the lockdown, I was incorporating some of Johnny, Marcel, and Ouano's tricks. So at least I know what to work on when I get back to the mat.

This week, though, no training for me. Been busy financing the old grappling with a business trip to Seattle (making the dolla dolla bill, as the cool kids say), and I won't get to train again till Monday. I have been CrossFitting, still, but I'm also carbing it up old school. So I have headaches, my heart is racing, and I'm sluggish.

And yet, I am still craving it. Geez, is this what it's like to quit smoking or drinking or doing crystal meth? For me, it's not just the not eating that stuff that's hard--it's the fact that I want to want to eat that stuff, if that makes any sense. I like liking ice cream. I like liking popcorn and Milk Duds at movies. I know you're supposed to be able to eat those things in moderation, but if they work on me like a drug, which I think they do, then maybe it's not a surprise that I'm kind of an all or nothing gal. So it might be best for me to learn how to stop liking to like that stuff. (Not gonna happen anytime soon.)

In other news, why is it that the spam I get falls into 3, unflattering categories: offers for colonics; ads for dating services for people who are over 50 and/or, um, heavyset; and who, uh, could use a little help in the bedroom? Add all that up, and the spam function's perception of me is pretty unflattering, especially from the waist down. :(

I'll end with a teaser for my next post on being a woman who trains: how do I know I'm making progress, how do I assert my femininity, what about relationships as/with a person who trains?

Check out my interview on Fightworks Podcast!

If you don't know about the Fightworks Podcast, you should. The show has featured interviews with members of the grappling and MMA community for over 2 years now and making the broadcasts available online at http://thefightworkspodcast.com/. I was honored in December to have won their Best BJJ Blog of 2007 contest, and I was honored this week to be invited by them to speak about my experiences being a woman who trains. Here is the link to our conversation!

http://thefightworkspodcast.com/2008/02/10/103-brazilian-jiu-jitsu-and-women/

I'm glad the show does what it does, not only because I got to blab about myself, but because I'm increasingly coming to believe that it is the important for intelligent, articulate people to spread the word about grappling. In my experience, the majority of people who train are incredibly capable and could be doing anything they wanted to. But they choose grappling. They are amazing people and they make this art we study into the amazing sport/culture/lifestyle is. So thanks to The Fightworks Podcast for helping to paint a picture of the world of grappling and MMA that is more accurate, in my opinion, than the assumptions people make about who does this stuff and why (which usually run to the violent).

Oy vey. I guess I have become an evangelist.

Well, regardless, check them out--ALL their podcasts, not just the one featuring me. Thanks again!

Lights out

For those of you who didn't agree with what I wrote in my last post, this one will give you some poetic justice.

A large part of Brazilian jiu jitsu and submission grappling is, well, submission. You work to improve your position so you can put on a finishing hold and make your opponent submit, either by tapping or by yelling. Well, sometimes people don't submit in time, either because they are stubborn/stupid, or because a submission sneaks up on them, or because they tap the mat instead of the opponent, so the opponent doesn't know to stop until it's too late. Hence the phrase "Tap, snap, or nap." "Snapping" happens when you don't tap to a leglock, armbar, or shoulder lock in time. "Napping" happens when you don't tap to a choke in time.

Well, I napped last night for the first time ever. And I have to say, it was borderline pleasant, as strange as that sounds. Allow me to explain.

Johnny was teaching the beginner class and I was serving as the training dummy. He was demonstrating the collar choke from the back and the corresponding escape, commenting on how in order to escape, you must move your body to your opponent's weak side (the side where his/her hand is grabbing your lapel under your arm) as opposed to to the strong side (the side where his/her hand is grabbing your lapel across your throat).

The drill for the students was for one person to put the choke on at about 20% strength and the other person to escape to the weak side. Johnny put a choke on me as he was saying this, to demonstrate, and the last thing I remember thinking was, "That's way more than 20%!" as I flopped to his weak side.

I pieced this together later, because at the time I was unconscious, but apparently I went out and just stayed slumped on Johnny's leg for about 5 or 10 seconds. He told me later that he thought I was kidding, and eventually he just shook his leg to get me off him. One of the other students told me later that my eyes stayed open and the left corner of my mouth twitched. Creepy!

Here's what I remember after I woke up: The first thing, seriously, was, "Ooh, look at the pretty lights!" (Remember I was face up, lying on Johnny's leg.) The next thing was, "I need to add TP to my shopping list." The third thing was, "Is my dad here?" And the fourth thing was, "Oh! I'm in class! Awesome! I should probably roll." And then when I stood up I was all shaky and unstable.

Like I said, I pieced this all together later. The best part, though, is that Johnny had been trying to get me to let him put me to sleep for months, but I was really apprehensive about it. It's one thing to have it happen accidentally (as I found out on Wednesday), but another to plan for it. So I had promised him that if I ever let anybody put me out, it would be him.

Well, it was him. I kept my promise. But he didn't even notice, so he didn't get to enjoy it. Sucks for him. I actually found it pleasant, as I said. I woke up weirdly happy.

Now, lest you think Johnny is a sadist, there actually is a sound reason to be put out once or twice, namely, that you develop a better sense of how much time you still have to work on an escape before you really will go night night. At least, that's what he kept telling me every time he tried to convince me that putting me to sleep would be "fun."

But even though it was kind of pleasant, I think I'll be tapping quickly in the near future.

Long-promised post about being a woman who trains (part I)

I’ve mentioned multiple times now that I have more to say about what it’s like to be a woman who trains. Well, more to say on what it’s like to be me, a person who trains who happens to be a woman. I want to preface my comments (which I also promised would probably offend across the board) by saying that I have been blessed with a solid group of teachers, friends, training partners, and even acquaintances and strangers who have supported my grappling in myriad ways without regard (do I need to pay royalties to Matt “No Regard” Arroyo when I say that?) for my gender. In some ways, my trip was easier because I’m a woman. For one thing, I’m less likely to be viewed as a dojo stormer; since there are fewer women who compete, I rarely if ever rolled with anyone on my journey whom I later faced at a tourney, which might have been awkward. But then again, competitors also figure out a way to compete against each other and remain friends. (Have I mentioned my girl crush on Emily Kwok, Ricardo Almeida brown belt, for instance? She and I have competed and yet I want to hang out with her and learn how she braids her hair.)

I also realize that this is only my experience and that I have to own the creation of that experience. But that being said, with at least some of it, I don’t think I’m alone, and in some ways, being a woman who trains is more difficult than being a man who trains. We’ve already covered the femininity stuff, at least in part. (I continue to hear from people about that, by the way, and everyone who contacts me says they can relate either because they have experienced what I did or because they know women who have.) Another aspect of that, though, is that there are some guys who won’t train with me, and the only reason is that I’m a woman. I have been refused for religious reasons, because it would make wives or girlfriends uneasy, and because of a belief that neither partner would benefit from training together.

There is also the reason that no one who uses it will own up to, but that has become more of an issue as I have improved: some guys do not want to run the risk of having to tap to a chick. Note that these guys always have some other, gender-neutral excuse, like, “I’m sitting this one out,” or “I’m done for the night.” Those are usually valid excuses. But if I’m the only person you use them on—and I can’t tell you how many guys have used that excuse with me only to hop right back onto the mat IN FRONT OF MY FACE when one of the penised students wants to roll—then I can only surmise that something girly is going on.

Okay. In some ways I can see the validity of these excuses, except for not wanting to tap to me, of course. (Not a very good demonstration of leaving your ego at the door, is it?) I must admit I don’t know much about the religious laws governing this sort of thing, so in the absence of solid information, I enjoy assuming that the reasons are consistent with much else that I assume about organized religion, which is to say, that the reasons are designed to discriminate against women while simultaneously trying to convince them that it is for their own good. (In other words, I’m not the most objective person when it comes to people saying they won’t roll with me for religious reasons.) What happens in a romantic relationship is none of my business, and frankly, if you don’t know what you’re watching when you watch grappling, you might think you see some positions that came straight out of the Joy of Sex. My experience of BJJ has been anything but sexual, but I will admit that I giggled for a solid year when people talked about “mounting” each other. So I can see how there could be some discomfort there. Guys who don’t believe they will get anything out of rolling with me may be right, especially if there is a large size difference. And maybe I should be flattered by the guys who don’t want to tap to a chick. Look at me, all threateny! BOO, bitches!

But even if I assume that all of those people who won’t roll with me have my best interests at heart—which they generally don’t (no offense, but come on. Do you expect me to believe people are protecting me from myself, even if you assume that they need to?) their refusals still end up making me look and feel OTHER. I don’t have to do a single thing to have people casting aspersions on me. I just have to be a woman. Just by being me, I have the capacity to render a man unclean, break up a relationship, or emasculate somebody. I am wicked powerful because I need a sports bra. No matter that women are supposed to be equals by now, that I’m absolutely NOT interested in someone else’s boyfriend or husband and have never acted inappropriately on the mat or otherwise toward a man who is in a committed relationship (and that if someone else’s boyfriend or husband is interested in me, then that’s a problem between him and her), and that these big guys have no qualms about rolling with more advanced men who are smaller than they are. It’s different. I am different.

I know, I know. Women and men are different. And to complicate matters further, sometimes I want the distinction to be honored. But I want it to be honored on MY terms.

So there’s more. I have plenty to say. But I’ll do it in installments.

Pinnacle of grappling photo ops

JACARE!!

He is in town to do a seminar and I think to get an MMA fight. As you can see, we are bestest friends.

For the civilians among you, Ronaldo "Jacare" Souza ("Jacare" means "alligator" in Portuguese) is to grappling as Michael Jordan is to basketball or Wayne Gretzky is to hockey. If I knew how to do smileys in my blog, I'd be including an "I'm not worthy" one.