Soccer was no more. For the last decade or so, I’d played recreational adult soccer in various forms. In Alaska, it was indoor arenas with turf and modified rules. For a few short months of the year, we exposed our skin to mosquitos and the midnight sun as we played on pitches pockmarked with potholes and slanted fields. After moving to Seattle, I bounced around teams and various turf-covered outdoor and indoor venues. As I approached my mid-30s, my back and knees and ankles reminded me that the clock was ticking on my joints. When we moved to Atlanta, I decided to stop playing. Full stop.
Where did that leave me? I could always redouble my efforts in the gym, but I knew my motivation waned when I lacked clear goals for strength and conditioning. I didn’t want to join a bowling league or take up golf or even ultimate frisbee. I tried some hipster games such as kickball and dodgeball. They were fun, but not something I saw myself wanting to play long-term. So where did that leave me?
My stepdad grew up on hearty dosages of Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris. As an adult, he bounced between various martial arts as he semi-obsessively sought a black belt. He broke his ribs and suffered a concussion from competitive Taekwondo. He practiced chopping through boards or stretching his groin for high kicks. He meditated and worked on completing handstands. Meanwhile, I lifted weights and played soccer and mostly assumed I’d tackle him and punch him in the face if I needed to. Did I know that would work? Not really. Although I did take legit boxing and Muay Thai classes in college after watching Fight Club. So that had to count for something. Bob and weave. Jab, jab, cross.
Really, though, I saw my stepdad – this middle-aged guy with a slight build and a better brain than body – straining to become relatively dangerous. Honestly, I didn’t really believe he’d amount to much in a legit scrap. So what would make me any different? Now in my 30s, I had to be honest and realize I wasn’t much different than my stepdad when he started his martial arts journey (granted he started it in his late 40s). We were relatively the same size and the main difference in weight was because I lifted weights and he didn’t. Was I just repeating my stepdad’s path?
I knew I didn’t want to join some bullshit academy that warded off attackers with harnessed auras and Zen. I understood to fight was to get dirty and bloody and possibly hurt. Like I said, I did some striking in college. I came home with bruised eyes and split lips, but with time I improved. I knew I could hold my own when boxing gloves came out in my fraternity and we “playfully” took swings at each other. I knew I could bob and weave and duck or redirect a punch before landing a jab or a hook to the ribs. Is this the path I wanted to continue?
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I knew nothing about jiu-jitsu. I’m serious. Except for vague recollections of early UFCs, I didn’t know it was a grappling based art. I figured all Martial Arts (capitalized to make this seem a serious endeavor) were approximately the same – Katas, heavy bags, focus mitts, Gis and belts, and some vague lineage back to pre-firearms combat. I imagined joining a place that offered a variety of classes, allowing students to become well-rounded Martial Artists. That’s the kind of place I kinda-sorta-for-a-short-time joined in Seattle.
I learned some Kali. I learned some Jeet Kune Do. I remembered my boxing and Muay Thai days, but didn’t want to repeat that path. I attended maybe three BJJ classes where I barely recall what I learned. It was all Greek to me. Yet this is the sort of place I imagined joining when I moved to Atlanta.
Something about jiu-jitsu stuck with me as I started researching Martial Arts. I didn’t want to get hoodwinked by a place that taught me to “Hadouken” my way through a fight. Instead, I was drawn in by UFC highlights and the machine gun energy of Rener Gracie. I researched BJJ in the Atlanta area. Two options offered a variety of classes (Jeet Kune Do, Kung Fu, BJJ, etc.), but they were also a daunting drive from my apartment. There was also Alliance Headquarters, the home of a 10X (at the time) world championship team. I didn’t even know what that meant, but it actually scared me away. I imagined Cobra Kai and “bowing to your Sensei.” I wasn’t looking to make BJJ a full-time, super competitive thing. This left me researching options closer to my apartment.
That’s how I found Buckhead Jiu-Jitsu. It’s funny now, in retrospect, to think about that first interaction. I’m sure Martial Arts academy owners get contacted by hundreds of flakes, fakes, and crazies. How many of them actually end up joining? Yet Professor Samuel (Sam) Joseph promptly replied to my email and encouraged me to swing by when I got the chance.
When I did get the chance, Sam was more interested in discussing the finer plot nuances of Game of Thrones than giving me a sales pitch. Not that he didn’t make me feel comfortable as he told me to make myself at home before giving me a brief tour and asking whether I needed to borrow a Gi. With full confidence, I explained I was covered there. I’d spent $120 on a thin Judo Gi that had no discernible tags or brands. It was a bit outside my budget at the time, but I assumed it would last months if not years. This might be the first and last picture of me in that Gi.
As class time approached, I sat against the wall and watched everyone chatting with their friends, making jokes, and otherwise acting like this was the only place they wished to be. Others came up to me and introduced themselves. They asked if I had any other Martial Arts experience. I explained my sojourn into boxing and an even shorter journey in Muay Thai. There was also my 1.5 years of high school wrestling where I won a total of 2 matches and otherwise had no clue what was going on as I was manhandled by sweaty adolescents in sweatier singlets who were much more aggressive and confident than I was on many fronts. I avoided that last bit of personal history.
They saw my Gi and asked about Judo. I just shook my head and admired their sleek, jiu-jitsu Gis with patches of Adventure Time characters or colors other than white (black!). I knew if I were to continue this journey, I’d have to upgrade my Gi style. #dressforsuccess
What struck me most was the openness of the academy. So many names and handshakes and smiles and encouragement. At this point, all the names and faces were a blur, except I was quickly marked as a newbie – my first day. The whole experience seemed different from the online articles that described day-after-day of ass-whoopings that killed your ego until the only thing left was the husk of whatever really drove you forward. This was far from that, although the ass-whoopings would come (spoiler alert).
As this was intro class with no drilling, I was paired with a lanky blue belt whose name I immediately forgot (sorry, Stuart, but you know how it is). He was patient in explaining and reexplaining the details of the move (I believe it was arm bar day, but it might have been triangles). I questioned the whole process as I had a grown man between my legs and was asked to manipulate his body (which I despise touching and being touched already) to apply the move.
Yet there was something rewarding for completing the move correctly. “Yes, very nice,” Sam said as he meandered through the pairs sprawled across the mats. With repetitions and steady prompting by my partner, I stopped poking him in the eye and slapping him with my feet. I was getting it! This jiu-jitsu thing wasn’t that hard. It just took reps after reps after reps. That’s it. Simple. When was the next class? What would we learn next?
That night, coming home stinking of another man’s essence, I tried showing my wife what I learned. I couldn’t. I’d already lost vital details to make it work. “Sorry honey, I think I’m supposed to…that’s not it. Maybe…oh that’s your ear. Sorry. I’ll work on it.”
I promised to come back for the next Intro class, as soon as I researched better Gis online and decided I wasn’t bold enough for a black Gi (yet). I did get overnight delivery on a sleek white Fuji Gi with blue accents. And so it started.