Stuck in Half Guard
The Lament of Middle Aged Jiu-Jitsu Blue Belt
Starting any martial art in your forties is challenging, but Brazilian jiu-jitsu presents a unique set of obstacles for the middle-aged grappler to overcome. More than 90% of the people I train with are two decades younger than me, which puts them at a significant advantage even though they have less experience.
Grit vs Youthful Vigour
My fingers were about to abandon my hand. Seconds ticked by in an agonizing parade as I tried futilely to wrestle my legs into a spider guard. Unfortunately for me, my much stronger opponent was testing the limits of my rapidly depleating grip strength.
I could let go at any moment, and my hands were begging me to, but I held on, pushing past a wall I didn’t even know was there. Even as he used all his athleticism against my aching hands, they held on, eventually getting me the guard I was searching for.
Twenty-year-olds have more energy, athleticism, strength, and speed at their disposal than I do, and it makes a huge difference. Some days skill is what keeps me from getting my ass kicked, but on others, I’m holding on for dear life in a desperate battle to keep up with the blur of limbs flailing around me.
I finish the round ready for more, but they’re exhausted and lying in a puddle of their sweat because I have something that they don’t.
Grit
No one is born gritty. Grit is developed from pushing the body and mind, overcoming obstacles, and embracing new challenges. There is a reason why the most competitive age brackets for endurance races are between 30 and 45. You have to be tough to handle endurance events, and I believe that the same is true for martial arts like jiu-jitsu.
It’s impossible to know how far your body can be pushed until you’ve pushed it past its limits and found more open road on the other side. This pushing past the self-imposed limitations only comes with time and difficulty.
When I was 17, I would run with no problems because I was young, and it was easy. At forty-four, my body is not too happy to propel me through pounding pavement, and if the 17-year-old version of me had to contend with the aches, pains, and protests of my muscles and joints, he would never have made it to the end of the street.
That version of me had no grit and, therefore, would quit as soon as things got tough. These days, I know that the soreness and pain are only temporary and that I can push through them. I know this because of all the times I have pushed through the pain.
The young guys I roll with lack grit. That absence of grit is why they're gassing out after only a couple of minutes of fighting, and I’m capitalizing on their exhaustion.
One of the young guys asked me how I deal with the inevitable soreness that jiu-jitsu gifts us. He was lamenting about how sore he was the morning after class and how it must be worse for me because I’m old.
Yeah, that’s right, he called me old. He didn’t suggest I might be a little wiser due to my experience; he was looking at me, thinking that if anyone knows how to deal with soreness, it’s the old fossil with the grey hair peppering his beard.
I told him that it was pure grittiness that let me deal with being sore and tired despite how ancient I appeared to young eyes.
But, grit is not the only reason I’m able to handle fighting younger and stronger opponents.
Patience Isn’t Only for Jedi
I don’t know how much he weighed, but it was enough crushing force to make breathing almost impossible. I wanted to get out from under him, but struggling against the pressure was a losing battle.
If he wanted to submit me he had to move and although it sucked, I would wait until he did.
He started to lift a bit to start isolating my arm, which was the window I needed to bridge, hip escape, and regain my guard.
One aspect of jiu-jitsu that I’ve embraced is that of patience. This came almost accidentally because I only have so much energy to expend in a five-minute round, so I strive to learn how to conserve as much energy as I can. One way I have found to conserve energy is to be patient and wait for opportunities to present themselves.
Being stuck under side control sucks, but I refuse to gas myself out by struggling futilely against a massive human who is stronger than I. They have to move eventually, and when they do so will I.
When the situation is reversed, guys struggle against the two hundred pounds I’m using to crush their chests. Instead of waiting for me to transition to another position or move for a submission, they struggle and tire themselves out, and I let them.
Most of the armbars I’ve escaped from were due to my opponent not being patient enough to do the move properly. They rush to get the submission and are confused about how my arm can slip out before they can finish.
I’ve even told many of the young guys I train with that if they were more patient, they’d give me a run for my money.
Playing a Different Game
It must have been a solid minute that this twenty-something kid bounced around me like a blur. Every step of the way, I was able to get a knee or frame in front of him but the constant back and forth was making me tired.
So I gave up and let him get side control. I also let him shift his weight too far forward, which I exploited to roll us over, ending up on top.
The groan that accompanied the evacuation of air from his lungs told me that the pressure I was placing on him was doing the job of keeping him still. I could feel the panic surging through him as he struggled against the weight crushing him, and it wasn’t long until he was exhausted.
I’m not fast, and that is a reality that isn’t going to change. As I face off against people who were born after 9/11, I accept the fact that I can’t keep up and don’t bother trying.
Instead, I do everything I can to slow them down by holding on for dear life.
This often forces them to expend all their energy trying to detach from my grip so they can use their speed and agility against me. Once I’m able to get them on their back then I use another weapon in my arsenal, which is that I’m much heavier than a lot of these young guys.
I said heavier, not fatter. Although, I do carry my cinnamon bun consumtion in the form of a little more padding around my midsection.
Between grips, a somewhat ok guard, and crushing pressure, I force people to play a much slower style of jiu-jitsu, which works for me since I have the speed of a snail and the reaction time of a heavily medicated sloth.
In a lot of ways, I think starting a martial art like jiu-jitsu is better in middle age than early adulthood. Maturity brings with it grounded and realistic expectations of what I’m going to get out of this.
I understand that night of training takedowns will hurt for a few days after. Two hundred pounds coming to a sudden stop, along with muscles and joints with four decades of wear and tear, equals waking up in the morning wondering why I feel like I went through a cement mixer.
This is why I don’t let anyone try to take me down by throwing me.
My age makes me cautious, methodical, and devoid of ego. I’m not going to have a debut at the UFC, so I don’t bother training like I will. I train because it’s fun and keeps me fit, strong, and I get to train with my sons, which is a great bonus.
Stuck in Half Guard
Regardless of how much training in jiu-jitsu benefits me and my health, being the highest ranking student in the gym has me understanding why people quit this pursuit at the blue belt.
It seems that there is a plateau between the blue and purple belt levels. It’s hard to gauge one’s progress, and class after class, it’s easy to think that you're not getting any better. I know enough to dominate those who are new, but not enough to hold my own against the instructors.
Jiu-jitsu is also a martial art where improvements are hard to quantify, and the only way I’ve been able to take note of my improvement is to be intentional in my training. With every roll, I set an intention and see if I can achieve it. Some days, I’m working on guard retention, others a specific submission, or maybe I’m spending the roll going for sweeps. Regardless of what I’m trying to do, having a goal keeps everything interesting.
I know that I’m improving because when I started, I was only trying to survive. I couldn’t plan ahead, chain techniques together, or see opportunities. My mind was focused on surviving, whereas today, muscle memory takes over, giving me opportunities to think.
I still suck at jiu-jitsu but I suck a little bit less than yesterday which is all one can ask for.