A psychic place has opened in the building with our gym. Yesterday they put their sidewalk sign out in front of our door (theirs is the next storefront down, but the sign clearly pointed to us) advertising free psychic readings. We were joking around before class, and I said that my future would show lots of armbars.
Welp, I armbarred the stuffing out of folks last night.
Fundamentals class was all drilling: early-mount escapes (that is, escaping as they transition). Advanced class was 2-min round-robin rounds for 40 minutes. As more people came in, my group kept shifting. I seemed fixated on armbars to the point that I started feeling badly about doing so many and tried to diversify my submissions — but, likely in the spirit of Halloween, everyone kept handing out free arms, so I kept taking them.
Somewhere in there, someone slammed a knee down on my heel. It seems bruised now and does not like being stood on. Meh.
I stayed over into Open Mat to roll with Robert so I could balance out the mauling I did with taking a mauling of my own.
Almost a white belt again
When I walked in last week, Andrew and Robert both pointed at the shelves. I looked but didn’t see anything unusual. Then they pointed up. And sitting there on the top shelf (which I can’t even reach!) was my belt!
Andrew said they knew it was mine because I’m the only one with a “hippie” belt (from The Green Gi; I love this belt, btw, so soft). I don’t know how I managed to leave it on the previous Saturday — and how I didn’t notice when I emptied my bag at home later — but somehow I did. When I left class that night, I opened my bag to hold my belt, to make sure it was still there. I even held onto it last night, a week later, to make sure I still had it.