Writin' Forty

Last night will be the last class I take at my regular school before the tournament on Saturday. I foolishly decided to do a work thing on Wednesday (ok, not that foolish. A co-worker wanted me to attend some sort of military networking event; I do like to go to military related events and I do like and respect the co-worker and that’s why I said yes. Still, the timing of this event as it relates to the tournament and me losing weight to get where I want t o get to is just laughably bad) and this bumps my normal schedule of having to go to class at Denver on Thursday instead of at Charlotte on Wednesday. Never mind I just constructed the worst sentence ever made and stay with me. I talked with my instructor, Steve, and told him I wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week and that the tourney was Saturday. He basically said, do what I know and nothing else. My game is on top. Stay on top. If I get put on bottom? Get back on top. That is enough for me to win. I told him that I had a p

Getting ready for this tournament and several things are going through my head right now. I’m sure they’ll all string together at the end but if they don’t, here’s my apology in advance. You got what you paid for: 1.  Jeff mentioned to me about a week or so ago about what my “Happy Plan” was for the tournament. I had no idea what he meant. A happy plan is how you’re going to envision your tournament rolls going from start to finish. I was asked this question by one of the brown belts at my school, Tyson, but it’s good to know there’s a term for it. I have now mentally practiced what my happy plan is. 2.  I am worried I haven’t physically worked that plan well enough. On the off chance that one of my competitors is one of the 8 people who read this thing I won’t give away what I have and haven’t worked but I am worried I haven’t prepared enough. I have used my regular training to figure out what it is I feel I can and can’t do in reference to the tournament. I hope that’s enoug

Dan from Victoria is beardless now. I don’t like it and I want him to grow it back immediately. It was so striking that I knew he had shaved it, saw him walking up, and it still didn’t register that it was him when I saw him. When I was in Victoria, Dan worked two jobs, both of which allowed him to have a beard which was full and luxurious and awesome and with his belly and smile he looked like a younger, awesome Santa Claus. He had his reasoning for shaving it, you know…employment…but my Dan in my head has a beard. I was going to do my normal thing and say “I digress,” but I can tie this in. Really, I promise. Over the course of the evening in Victoria I had several meaningful conversations. Dan mentioned to me that he wanted some help with fitness; his idea was that he would join a gym and start and I would continue to grow my beard out in a show of solidarity. There’s a big problem with that: my wife. Miranda is happy with my beard as long as I keep my beard looking neat and tr