This. I’m not a “girlie girl” (so the stuff about my toenails being wrecked? Eh.), but I am a “nice girl” and I’ve had to overcome this idea that being “nice” means not making anyone uncomfortable ever.
Work kind of exploded in the last two weeks or so, and all I’ve wanted to do is go home and curl up far away from the world. So that’s what I’ve done. Hard-core introverting. I’ve had my bag packed since the last time I trained, but have not wanted to interact with people. (Marcos asked why, if I was fed up with people, I didn’t come in & choke people to get the frustration out. I pointed out that I didn’t want to choke people, I wanted to punch them in the face. And that wouldn’t work so well.)
It hasn’t really let up — and probably won’t all month — but the sunshine & warmth this weekend helped to refresh me. The time changed wrecked me, as usual, but I still hauled myself up this morning and made it to class.
I didn’t realize that it’s Spring Break for the colleges, though, so this morning was only me, Marcos, and Andrew. (Jen is finishing up her dissertation and is in insane writing/editing mode right now. Probably wants to punch people, too, rather than choke them.)
Short warmup, then rounds. With Marcos, break, Andrew, and Marcos again.
Andrew decided not to stick to his morning curriculum for this week, so he had us ask questions about positions we get stuck in. I have no brain cells functioning that early (also, my answer is “everything”), so Marcos carried the Q&A with specific things he’s getting caught in against specific people. But it turned out to be universally applicable, as I knew it would.
And the overall theme was: your submission is my guard pass. Not “my defense”, because then I end up in a spiral of defending against ever-worsening situations until I’m caught and/or trying to defend with a fraction of my body against all of your body. No, your submission is my chance — to pass your guard, to sweep you, to advance. Because to attempt to submit me, you have to commit to something, and if you’re committed to something, then other things are available to me.
There was a bunch more that my brain is still processing in the background — oh, and a triangle defense that I like and want to practice more.
Round-robin rolls to finish up. During my roll with Marcos, Andrew said, “Believe!” I said, “But I don’t believe!” He said, “I can see the gears slowly turning.” I’d trapped Marcos’ arm from guard, and my brain was saying, “Hey, you know, I have this arm here. And you know, that means there’s an armbar if you would just, you know, maybe, move in that direction. I mean, I understand his arm is as long as your whole body, but think about it, m’kay?” About that speed. Needless to say, that armbar did not happen.
I feel exhausted now (and my poor widdle hamstrings, ow!), but I will be pointing myself at class tonight.