Training Log: Entry 3125

GRAPPLING COMPETITION QUICK SUMMARY

I'll probably write more sometime, but I came into this at the very bottom of the weight class (185lbs...in full sweats, with shoes, wallet keys and phone in my pocket, and this in my belly for breakfast)

with absolutely no training for it.  Been relying on "Chaos is the plan" to carry me through.

I lost the first match, despite getting my hand raised at the end, because the other dude was able to escape from me in sudden death faster than I could escape from him.  But for that match, I really was just trying to remember what the f**k I was supposed to be doing in the first place.  I didn't do any sort of warm-up prior to the match, didn't spend any time on the mat: just wanted to go out there raw.  We tied up a bunch, he was strong in the clinch, didn't find any takedowns or throws, and we scrambled a whole bunch.  I wasn't having much luck securing subs, but I could also tell around minute 5 that he was exhausted while I was feeling like Captain America: "I can do this all day".  So I just kept giving him more stuff to deal with the whole time, hoping I'd secure a sub.  He was so fatigued that I wasn't really worried about him escaping: I could muscle out of his attempts to secure position and try again.  We went to sudden death, I didn't really have a plan, and just kind of held on until I couldn't, then took too long to escape him.

I was told I won, I celebrated, then I was told I had to compete against him again and that I actually lost and they reversed the previous decision.  At that point, I no longer made having fun the goal: I was honestly pretty mad my victory was taken.  So I went out there with some "bad intentions", knowing the dude's gas tank was already compromised, and tried my best to bully him.  I found it a bit easier to secure positions on him, got another americana, cranked it far more aggressively than before and secured the tap.

This got me into the finals.  The other guy I was competing against secured an armbar on the last guy I beat, so I knew he had some technical chops.  He was also very active in the clinch, and just kinda spazzy in general.  I tied up and found out he wasn't nearly as strong as the other guy: I could impose my will on him far easier.  I kept going for lazy single legs, which weren't successful, but probably put a scare on him.  He kept going for hip throws on me, which I enjoyed, because it put me in a position to get closer and put my bodyweight on him.  I was able to outmuscle him enough whenever we got to the floor, which allowed me to get the positions I wanted.  Once again: when I finally got the americana, I cranked it and got the tap.  This got me first.

The commonalities between all the matches: I worked some weird angles in the clinch with my arms and hands that these dudes weren't prepared for, and I imagine that was my Muay Thai and wrestling background coming through.  I also would put pressure on them whenever I could: forearms on the neck or across the mouth or face, make their breathing labored or uncomfortable, and basically put a panic on them.  I could feel their strength and stamina departing pretty rapidly into the match, and it was like a shark smelling blood when it happened.  It drove me to be more aggressive and try to drain them like a sponge.  I could play stupid games with them where we both went force on force, knowing they would swerve first in our game of chicken.  A dumb move against a more skilled opponent, but play the cards you're dealt.

I loved my aggression today.  I didn't have that when I was a kid.  I think KNOWING I was stronger and fitter went a long way.  It was also my ONLY tool in the toolbox, but it goes to show just how valuable those assets can be.  "More trouble than I am worth" completely on display: JUST enough skills to be dangerous, and enough strength, size and conditioning to impose them.

Some dude came up to me afterwards and asked "Weren't you at mid-Americas?"  I replied this was my first competition, and I don't even train in this.  He was puzzled.  I went on to say "I do Tang Soo Do...but I wrestled in high school 18 years ago".  He was still bewildred.  "But where do you train out of?"  My garage man, unless you count Tang Soo Do.  He eventually congratulated me, and I told him "Thanks: Chaos is the plan"