About Last Weekend

So, this weekend I had what I’d consider to be one of the biggest athletic disappointments of my life. I’ll back up by talking a little bit about how this ties in to something I wrote about many weeks ago.

Jason ran the first jiu-jitsu school I attended. Things progressed well until life got in the way; Jason had to leave with his wife to Louisiana. He was going to close down his school but his heart, huge as it is, got in the way and he decided to keep the school open with his most trusted student running the school in his place. At that time I was a white belt with three stripes (again, kinda tall midget. I can’t even state enough that white belt basically means newbie/next to nothing in the world of jiu-jitsu). There wasn’t really any other school to go to in Victoria; I knew nearly everyone coming through the doors of what was Jason’s school, I was in for the long haul. I attended just as many classes as I did before, though admittedly the level of instruction dropped. That’s of no fault to anyone, it was just communication growing pains.

The only time Jason could show up was for “special” days which usually fell on a weekend. Those few times weren’t announced very far in advance and as fate would have it, I was always set to be out of town on those few occasions. As it turns out, during those special days Jason would come into town those would be days where he would award stripes and new belts to the class. As it also turns out, those were the ONLY times that stripes and belts would be rewarded. As a result of this, I stayed at three stripes and a few people who I was equal to in (kinda tall midget) rank received promotions to blue belt while I stayed still.

It’s worth digressing to say that one should NEVER begrudge ANYONE of the rank they get in jiu-jitsu, especially if you’re in a good school with a good instructor. Chances are you help that person attain that rank by either kicking their butts or getting your butts kicked by them. Or both. In a sense, that stripe or that new belt has you woven into it. I’m saying all this to say, I was and am happy for those who were promoted past me. They earned it. I am not a measuring stick of any sort. Digression over.

I finally got smart and made certain that I would absolutely, positively be there for the next time Jason came into town. I attended as many weekly classes as I could leading up to this event (and to be fair and honest, I was already doing this before). The event involved the leader of Jason’s affiliation showing up from Brazil to the school to conduct a seminar. The seminar was a long and sweaty affair. Jason was proud that a pretty cool event had transpired and at the end it was time for him to give out some stripes and belts.

Leading up to this event I had a few people in the class mentioning to me that I’d been working super hard and that it’s being noticed how I show up to class and bust my tail, etc. I had reason to believe that I’d receive a fourth stripe or maybe even a blue belt, the first belt promotion from white belt. When Jason began talking about a guy who had worked hard and put time in and deserved this promotion my heart soared. When that guy turned out to be someone else, my heart sank. That was the only promotion given that day. 

I made sure to stick around for the picture taking and smiles and tears for Caleb, the guy who got promoted. He actually said and has continued to say I was one of the people who really pushed him (in some part) to get his blue belt. I was happy for him. But I was hurting for myself. Let’s talk about this recent disappointment.

Surprise, I’ve basically told you what just happened! There are a few changes, but the gist of it is the same: I moved to Charlotte and found a new team to call home, I’ve done my best to get ingrained as much as possible by being a steady presence in classes, I’ve tried to attend one seminar a month, etc. I got smarter and attended the big school events just in case I worked hard enough to receive a stripe or belt (and sure enough, back in January I did receive a fourth stripe on my white belt in January—taller midget!). The end result this weekend was the same: I felt, hoped, really, really thought that now might be time that I’d get recognized for my hard work and receive my blue belt. I had people, right before the test, ask me was I ready to get my new belt. I told them, openly, that I didn’t know if I’d be getting it; that it wasn’t a guarantee. But I’d really hoped that it was my time. It wasn’t my time. It was time for two other white belts who had less stripes than I did. 

Did that hurt? Yeah, I’m a competitive guy, I can’t lie and say it didn’t hurt my pride. But the operative thing in that sentence is “my pride”. My. I couldn’t ever be mad that someone who comes into class and worked hard and pays attention and learns. So, while I was hurt inside I did hug them both and I did congratulate them. They earned it.

Now, where does that leave me? Hurt. Licking my wounds. Getting a phone call from an advanced belt who gave me a reason or two why I might not be ready to get my blue belt. Shedding a tear or two in frustration. But ultimately, coming to class Monday. I’m sure at some point the head guy, Steve, is going to tell me specifically where I fell short. But I’m telling you what, anyone who is in my way right now, in the most constructive way possible, is going to GET. IT. Yes, there’s going to be shaping up my technique, learning new techniques, and becoming an overall better jiu-jitsu artist.

But man oh man. On my way to blue belt there are going to be a lot of my shoulders in people's faces, chokes, and armbars. I’m taking this as a blaring sign to let loose. Maybe that’s all I needed. Time will tell.