I have lots of martial arts training dreams. I have lots of dreams (and nightmares) about being in self-defense situations. I have lots of dreams wherein my training partners from various schools make cameos. Last night, I had a dream which had nothing whatsoever to do with MA.... and yet I and all of the other people in the dream were still wearing blue and white BJJ gi's.
I finally broke down and bought an actual rash guard today. Two, in fact. I didn't get a cheesy logo-fied one; I went to Fred Meier and bought two plain black Under Armour ones.
I have resisted this for a long time. I have been wearing t-shirts and tanks under my gi's, and they work ok... but they do stretch out and get all droopy and baggy as soon as they get soaked with sweat. I have in fact had a couple of near-wardrobe malfunctions. I finally decided that I should at least give these rash guard thingies a chance and see how I like them.
You've got to understand- I survived the 70's. The science of natural selection ensured that anyone who actually survived the 70's did so by virtue of developing a specific set of survival skills. Central among these Darwinian evolutions was the concept: Cotton=good, polyester=bad. The touch of polyester triggers an automatic gag reflex in anyone over 35. The people who did not successfully develop this aversion did not live to breed.
Well, I wore one tonight and it wasn't as hot, nor as wet, nor as annoying as I expected. I'll have to wear them a while to decide what I really think, though... jury's still out on this one.
Monday night BJJ in Bellevue. Hostility Boy, Ritchie, and a slew of two-stripe-and-under white belts- most of them big ones- no women, of course. It's worse than the Danger Room (Tuesday lunchtime class in Bellevue). Call this one the Rampage Room.
I got there in time to do the 5:30 takedown class, but I almost slunk back out the door when I saw that it was four big guys + Hostility Boy. After last week, the only thing I want to do LESS than free-sparring with Hostility Boy is letting him work THROWS on me, God help us all. Professor Carlos had already spotted me, though, and chivvied me onto the mat. Into the Lion's Den. Deep breath, grit teeth, march.
We were working some judo takedowns that I have never seen the like of before, so I was pretty clumsy and clueless. Hostility Boy obviously has some judo experience. I was braced for him to take my helpless ineptitude as license to smash me all the worse, but tonight he decided that since he already knows how to do all these takedowns, he'd play teacher. Okay, I can deal with that. I can even thank him for helping me.
Duck-and-cover from a punch, going to clinch and then takedown. Basic over-the-thigh guard break and pass to side control. Escape half guard by bringing the knee up to block opponent from grabbing your leg and pulling deep, then shoulder-pressure his neck and pry your foot out with the opposite leg. I got stuck drilling in a trio (darn) with Hostility Boy again (double-darn). He actually wasn't brutal with me tonight. He wasn't GENTLE, but he wasn't brutal.
Short timed spars. Ron twice. He is so strong, and his technique is so good. Daniel once. Ritchie once. I sat out the final round because I was afraid that Hostility Boy would be put with me next, and I didn't want to test whether or not his restraint tonight extended to free rolling or not.
I do not want to tap to Ritchie any more. And- unlike Hostility Boy, who just hopelessly outmatches me- I know that my skills and strength are adequate to avoid tapping to Ritchie if I set my mind to it. He seemed slightly less spazzy and aggressive tonight than my previous experiences with him- maybe he's learning- but I was still on my guard. We fought a while, and then I back-mounted and clock-choked/bow-and-arrowed him... carefully, since I suspected he would not want to tap to me. Right-o... as I slowly and deliberately applied pressure, he finally emitted a strangled squawk, and I immediately let go. "Are you okay?" "Erk....... my back......" "Sorry. I guess I should have gone slower. I thought it was slow enough, but I should have gone slower." Subtext: Bovine Feces. I have never cranked an uncontrolled sub in my life, not even on an asshole. I was very careful to not injure you, and you should have tapped. But next time *YOU* are cranking a sub, maybe that whole concept of "Even if *you* don't think there was anything wrong with what you did, if you hurt the other guy, simply accept that it shoulda been SLOWER" might filter through your memory. That's why I said the word SLOW three times.
He uprights himself like an elderly man and twists his back from side to side experimentally. "Are you okay?" I ask again. "Sorry." I did not smile.
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