Wake Up Call

In this piece I’m changing directions and instead of focusing on travel and culture I’m talking some about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ), some about sports psychology and some about how sometimes the universe likes to rub things in your face. I’ll try to keep away from being too technical when I discus BJJ (I’m hoping that my my non BJJ friends can enjoy this too) and I’m going to try to stay away from getting too corny when I discuss my recent revelations because narcissistic, philosophical writing annoys me. Here we go:

For starters, right now I’m at a standstill in my BJJ development. I know that any athlete, musician, or anybody who has tried to master a skill that takes years of regular practice, will empathize with me. In all the serious athletics I’ve done, starting with wrestling in high school, my year of judo in college, and now BJJ; I’ve noticed that athletic development does not occur at a steady rate. A friend of mine, compared progressing as an athlete, to struggling up a flight of giant steps. You walk along without much change for a while, and then you hoist yourself  up to the next level and all of a sudden you’re developing your jiu jitsu game quickly and all kinds of little details are fitting together and you’re understanding technique in a whole different way and… you hit another plateau.

There’s probably some evolutionary reason that humans learn in this pattern. Maybe after learning a new hunting technique we have to give the animals a chance to evolve and adjust to our new skills. I don’t know. Regardless, the pattern where a period of growth is followed by a period without much growth, is a fact, and it’s a fact that you have to learn how to live with as an athlete. I try to cross train by throwing in things like running, swimming, and weights. I try to remember to rest sometimes instead of constantly pushing myself to the max, especially when I’m not training for competition. I try to remind myself that I love BJJ, whether or not I’m having a good day, and that I’m always happier if I’m training. Perhaps the best technique I use to deal with my frustration caused by a long period of plateau, comes from a chat I had with my mother about a year ago. My mother is a serious singer and one of our ongoing conversations is about trying to excel in music vs. trying to excel in sports and how the two compare. I think I was complaining to my mom about how I wasn’t progressing in BJJ as quickly as I’d like to and she shared a piece of wisdom that she got from her voice teacher. When you’re trying to measure your progress, whatever your discipline is, the smallest period of time you should consider is six months. This helps me, when I’m feeling particularly negative about my last day, week, or month of training, I stop and think, “ok how do I compare to six months ago”. Every time I realize that I have made significant progress, and that I am heading in the right direction. It’s a nice trick.

So, having a BJJ learning curve that is full of periods of acceleration and period of stagnation is ok. Right now I’m in one of the stagnant phases. My BJJ game is sloppy and that I haven’t really learned any new techniques for a while. I’m consistently making the same mistakes when I train and no matter how many times I remind myself not to throw my arms around, I still do it, so I get caught in lots of armbars. And while I know that I am over all in really good shape, I’ve been unusually tired for the last week, and I feel slow on the mat. But it’s ok because I’m a mature, experienced athlete, and I know that the fact that I’m plateauing right now just means that I can look forward to learning at an accelerated pace sometime in the near future. Right?

Wrong! I’m so frustrated with BJJ, and my body right now that it’s hard to focus on anything else. Actually frustrated is too polite of a word. I’m pissed. I train so much, and so much of what you do as a serious athlete is push your body to keep going even when it doesn’t want to, that when I push and my body doesn’t listen it really pisses me off. I’ve been cranky and discouraged about BJJ for about a week now, and every time I go to train, I hope I’ll feel different but I also worry that it’ll be more of the same. (Which is probably a horrible psychological cycle, but we won’t get into that right now.) Anyway I was transitioning from being frustrated to feeling sorry for myself, “I train so hard, why aren’t I learning!” when the universe decided to give me a bit of a wake up call.

The academy where I train here in Israel is a MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) academy with a really strong BJJ program. That means that there are classes in BJJ, boxing, muay thai, and MMA; and there is a team of fighter that compete in professional MMA fights. There is an event this Thursday where a bunch of the fighters from the team are going to be competing and it’s going to be pretty exciting to go as a spectator and watch guys that I train with kick some ass. At least that was the plan.

My Hebrew, at this point, is good enough that I can understand the gist of a conversation most of the time, but I miss all kinds of details. Sometimes I will understand a sentence or two in a row and feel very proud of myself, and sometimes I’ll be unable to grasp a word in five straight minutes. But most of the time I can figure out the topic of the conversation if nothing else. Anyway, I had just finished a grappling class (no-gi BJJ) on Monday when I heard the names of a few of the fighters who were on the fight card for this Thursday. Hoping I had misunderstood Iasked for a translation. Apparently the two guys were on a motorcycle together when they got in an accident. The good news is that they’re both essentially ok. The bad new is that between a broken arm and some serious bumps and bruises neither of them are going to be able to fight on Thursday.

Let me just reiterate, the fights are this Thursday, the bike accident happened sometime in the last week or so. Fuck. These athletes have put themselves through the months of training, and they’re not going to be able to fight because of pure bad luck. Hearing about their situation put my frustration about my training into perspective. And while I am so thankful that the crash wasn’t worse, that they’ll both be able to train again, I can’t help but be heart broken for them. I’ve never had an MMA fight, but I have competed a lot and training for competition is hard. Your body starts to break down because you push it so hard and you have to watch your diet so that you can make weight. You’re sore all the time and it’s easy to wear yourself down psychologically. To go through all that, and then have the chance to fight taken away is just wrong. It’s so upsetting, that I’m going to take a break from all this serious talk and insert a youtube video by Joe Rogan that talks about what it takes to become a successful professional fighter. All you crazy kids who think you want to be the next George St. Pierre see below and think twice:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tM5KVt499zw

Anyway, back to the universe messing with my head. There’s this page I’ve seen floating facebook in the Israeli BJJ group. I didn’t pay much attention to it at first because it has the stupid name of “My Champion Film”. For some reason I was messing around online today and I decided to take a closer look. Apparently it’s a documentary about Merhav Mohar, the boxing champion of Israel, who moved to the US to take a long shot chance at becoming a boxing world champion. At some point an Israeli documentary crew started following him around and filming his life. The film is going to be released in the next week. Alright, good stuff, no? I love underdog stories, especially in sports and the Israeli fighting community is small enough that I figure some of the guys I train with probably know Merhav. You can check out the documentary website, including a trailer here: http://www.mychampionfilm.com/

Here: http://www.ajlmagazine.com/content/032006/contender.html is the newspaper article I read that tells the end of Merhav’s journey to become a world champion. Midway through his title fight, Merhav got caught with a left hook and woke up in the trauma unit of the hospital. You can read up on all the details of his injury in the article above, if you really want to. I’m just going to say that a guy, who gave every thing he had for a chance to become a world champion boxer, can’t jog now because his doctors are afraid it’ll move his brain too much. Merhav is 22. I can’t even imagine.

So while I promise I will not to use my blog as a place to bore you all with my deep revelations about life, I want to take a moment to list things I am grateful for as an athlete. Most importantly I am grateful for my health. While my nagging back problems are no fun, it could be so much worse. In all my years as a wrestler, and then BJJ practitioner, I’ve never had to deal with anything worse than back pain and a stress fracture in one foot. So far all my tendons and ligaments are intact (the most common place for injuries with grapplers) and I’ve never had a major break, or anything that required surgery. I’m thankful for all the support I get in my athletic endeavors. My parents take my athletic goals seriously and even show up to cheer for their crazy daughter who thinks that it’s fun to choke people out. I’ve overall had really good luck with coaches and trainers. As a girl in male dominated sports, I’ve always been taken very seriously and treated with great respect. The team I’ve found to train with here in Israel is exceptionally friendly and supportive, but everywhere I’ve gone I’ve been lucky to find serious training partners and awesome (if crazy) buddies. Lastly I’m thankful that I have something in my life that I’m passionate about. Not everybody has a overwhelming obsession, and while life would be easier if I wasn’t BJJ obsessed, it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting or rewarding.

So I’m grateful. And while I’m not satisfied with my jiu jitsu I’m thrilled that I have the opportunity to continue improving.

Ten reasons Israelis think I’m crazy!

I’m three months into my Israel adventure and I’ve decided that it’s time to revive my dead blog. I started this blog in the days of my Brasil trip, wrote about four entries and then totally neglected it, to the frustration of friends and family. So it’s time to try again. I could write about sight seeing, training jiu jitsu, or trying to learn Hebrew, but I think it’ll be more fun to start with a list of reasons that the locals think I’m crazy. Let’s see if I can make it to ten:

I take the bus everywhere. Israel has a quite good system of buses. If you have a little extra time to kill and you’re willing to wait at a bus stop in the heat, you can get pretty much anywhere you need to go. However, my middle aged family members and mid twenties buddies from the gym mostly have their own cars (or motorcycles). People who live in Tel Aviv, which is a parking nightmare, take buses a lot, but mostly within the city. So I’m a little bit unusual in that I regularly take buses from city to city. The buses I take are full of old ladies, (I look at them and immediately resolve to wear more sunscreen. It’s really upsetting to see what years in the sun can do to us white girls!) tourists like me, soldiers, and kids.

Take a bus on a Thursday night in the summer and you’ll be surrounded by a bunch of high schoolers, all dressed up, singing and shouting. Hop on midday near a beach and you’ll hear three or four different languages, as tourists ride to enjoy the sun and sand. Which brings me to my next reason I’m crazy:

I’m totally obsessed with the beach! Israel has miles of beautiful beaches with clear water, and on most days, gentle waves. If I lived closer to the beach, I’d be there everyday, the water is warm and with the scorching summer sun it’s hard to do anything else. I live about a forty minute bus ride from the beach, so instead of going for a daily dip, I tend to head over about twice a week. Alone. Which apparently is totally bizarre. The Israeli locals I chat with seem to think of the beach as a nice place to hang out on a summer weekend when you have nothing better to do. You bring a bunch of buddies and a beer or two plus, importantly a set of “matkot” to whack back and forth. For my American buddies, matkot kinda looks like beach ping pong without a table. Oh and it’s a very manly game that you have to look very serious while you play. I don’t get it.

Anyway we’re talking about the ways that I’m crazy, not how Israelis are strange. That can be my next blog. So the fact that I find the beaches amazing is very confusing to my Israeli buddies. They look at me and shake their heads and say, “don’t you have beaches in California?”. Oh yes we do! Let me take you to Stinson beach in September and see if you feel like getting in the freezing cold water. Even better, let me show you Albany beach and you can sort the through the trash and sand! I guess when you grow up with something in your backyard, you don’t think much of it. I mean I don’t exactly stop and stare every time I see the golden gate!

I don’t eat white rice. This is strange observation, but it’s come up a couple of times, so it’s going on my list. I try to stay away from white rice because everything I’ve read says that it’s basically nutritionally void. I’m not allergic to it, I don’t hate it, I just figure if I’m going to eat something that is not good for me, I’m going to pick something a lot more exciting than white rice. Brown rice isn’t really a concept here in Israel. My uncle had to look through several stores to find me some and I’ve never seen it in a restaurant, or eaten it at a family dinner. I guess not everyone grows up right next to the gourmet ghetto in Berkeley.

I try to tip using my debit card. Go to a restaurant… pay using a card, write the tip on the receipt. Nope not here. That just not how they do it.

Related: I try to pay my way. Apparently this is a foreign concept. And I’m not saying I’m complaining because I’m traveling and far from rich. But really guys! It’s 2010! It’s ok to let the girl pay for herself. All the times I’ve been out here, I’ve managed to pay for my own dinner once! So here is my official statement: if you are a guy, letting a girl pay for herself does not make you any less respectable, manly, or gentleman like.

I’m ambiguous about my Jewishness. In the US when people ask me if I’m Jewish and I say, “kinda,” nobody blinks. Whether your father is Jewish and your mother is not, or if your mother is Jewish and your father isn’t, doesn’t really make all that big a difference stateside. Also, at home, saying that you’re culturally Jewish, or half Jewish or my favorite answer: “Jew- ish” all makes sense. Not so in the Holy land. Here, to quote my father, “Being Jewish is like being pregnant. Either you are, or you aren’t, there isn’t any in between.” I’ve gotten to the point where if Israelis ask me if I’m Jewish I just tell them my father is Israeli and leave it at that. Let them come up with whatever definition they want to.

I jump every time I see a soldier carrying their assault rifle. As I mentioned above, I see a lot of soldiers on the buses. A lot of them are in uniform. A lot of them are carrying big guns. I’ve gotten a little bit better, but I still jump every time I see some kid my age arrange their rifle across their legs, stick their headphones in, and close their eyes for a nap. Yes, really.

I go running. The preferred form of exercise here is power walking. Fast enough to look like you’re trying hard, but not so fast that you break an actually sweat. Lets just say I get some looks when I go running by, red in the face leaving puddles of perspiration behind me. In fact I’m going to take this one a step farther. I’m not just weird because I run, I’m weird because I work out. Don’t get me wrong, Americans tend to be a lot fatter than Israelis. But while people here are for sure slimmer, there isn’t the same value on working out, especially for girls. You do see exceptions, but not as often as you think.

I’m a former English major. There are two acceptable undergraduate degrees: pre med and pre law. Explaining that I was an English major leaves people asking, “what’s that?”. When I explain, the politely nod smile and then ask me how I planned to make money. While liberal arts degrees are hardly the most respected at home, in Israel they seem to fall into the “why bother” category. In ways it makes sense, Israel is a very small country (about the size of the greater bay area) and there really just aren’t that many openings in liberal arts careers. Oh, and I won’t even get into the reaction I get, when I explain that I’m taking at least a year off from school in order to train as much jiu jitsu as I can and figure out what I want to do with my life.

I wait in line, say “please,” and “excuse me,” and double check with people if it’s really ok when they offer to do nice things for me. Now don’t get me wrong. Israelis are some of the warmest, friendliest people I have run across in my life. There is a reason I decided to extend my trip for an additional six months and it’s not just because I like the beach and the humus. But this whole, “being polite,” is an American concept. When I ask one of my buddies if they’re really ok with giving me a ride home, they look at me funny and say, “Yes, if I said it’s ok, it’s ok. I don’t do that American bullshit.” Apparently lines are American bullshit also. I’m adjusting, but boy are people going to think I’m rude when I get home.

I made it to ten! Of course these are just my observations, I could be miss reading cultural cues and I’ve also probably missed some ways that I’m crazy. Although let’s face it. Plenty of my darling American friends also think I’m crazy. For me, culture is one of the most interesting things that comes up when traveling and it really is a two way street. I get to observe Israeli culture, but Israeli culture is also observing me. So I am a beach crazed, bus riding, organic eating, self paying, overly polite California girl who doesn’t know what she plans on doing with her life. I think I can live with that. And while they’ll tell me where I go wrong, there are plenty of warmhearted Israelis who also can live with it. “Now eat your damn rice, Maia!”

Dia I can’t remember…

So I got seriously lazy about this blogging thing, because I got seriously busy. Lots to catch up on! I said goodbye to Claudio and Terra after a really, really nice week. Some highlights included baking cookies with Terra and trying to navigate a Brazilian grocery store in order to buy ingredients. Brazilians don’t seem to make cookies the way that we do at home, so it was a nice thing to share. Anyway, grocery shopping was an interesting experience, which made me much more sympathetic towards immigrants at home. Trying to find what you need in another language is hard enough, but in addition to that, everything was in funny containers in strange colors. Brown sugar was a challenge (we found some in the end in the “natural foods” aisle.)  Baking soda was nearly impossible. Even though Terra is a Rio native, and speaks excellent English, we spent a good ten minutes running up and down the different aisles looking for baking soda. We finally asked the lady at the checkout counter where it was, and she helped us out. You can’t find chocolate chips in Brazil, so we substituted with M&M’s. We got home, unloaded our grocery bags, and realized that the flour we bought already had baking soda in it, because it was “baking flour”. Good thing we figured that out before we started mixing. Anyway, the cookies turned out delicious, even though they tasted a little different than they do when I make them at home. I think it had to do with the butter we used, Brazilian dairy products are preserved differently. Anyway, I’ll fast forward through the measuring amounts without measuring cups and just say that the sixty cookies lasted two days! Brazilians love their sugar!

On Thursday night I took my second to last class at Gordo’s jiu jitsu. Ten minutes into the warm up and who walks in but Caleb Khan, my longtime wrestling/jiu jitsu buddy from Albany, California. We knew we’d be in Rio at the same time, working out in the same place, but it still was so weird to see him. Here, in Brazil! I was like, Caleb, don’t you belong to my back home life? Anyway it was awesome to see my amigo, impressive to hear him speak Portuguese and watch how much his jiu jitsu has improved. Shoutout to the Khan man, the 2009 American cup, blue belt Champion! Us Albany High wrestlers are taking over, one country at a time. While I’m on the topic of Gordo’s Jiu Jitsu, I think I’ll mention my celebrity spotting for the week, Rafael dos Anjos, UFC veteran, works out there. I didn’t recognize him at first because he weighs a good twenty pounds more than when he fights, but I was really charmed when I figured out who he is. He has beautiful jiu jitsu (obviously) but also a really nice attitude, I watched him role with a couple of blue belts and he was careful, technical, and constantly helping them improve their game. This proves my theory that the best fighters are super nice guys, because they don’t need to prove their egos. Nice. I really enjoyed working out at Gordo’s academy ( I got to train with a black belt world champion!) and will go back if I’m back in Rio. Let me revise that, when I’m back in Rio.

Friday afternoon I met up with my extended family (we’re traveling in a group of 11!) and the weekend consisted of a couple of days of sightseeing around Rio. Saturday included a walk in the rain forest that was amazingly beautiful. However, half a mile into our hike I hear a thunk and feel something insect like jump onto my back and start to crawl around. I shrieked at the top of my already high pitched voice and ran over to my father begging him to “get it off!” I was totally sure that a gigantic spider or something had landed on my back. Turns out my charming 14 year old brother threw a big piece of tree bark at my 11 year old cousin and missed. It hit me instead where it began to slide down my back in an insect like manner. I flipped out like a little girl in the sand box, and then had to face little bro, who thought the whole thing was basically the funniest thing ever. Hahaha, there goes my tough girl act. We’ll see how much longer my family is going to warn me to watch out for falling tree bark. Good thing we went to check out the giant Christ the Redeemer the next day. It’s hard to be cranky, when you can see all of Rio de Janeiro stretched out in every direction. I think I’ve grown up in one of the most beautiful places in the world, Berkeley California is pretty amazing, but Rio de Janeiro is better. I heard someone compare Paris and Rio saying, “Paris is man’s gift to God, Rio is God’s gift to man.” It’s going to be hard to go home.

I’m in catch up mode right now, I’m a couple days behind, so I’ll have to write more tomorrow. Here’s the teaser for next entry: nightclubs, Ipanema beach (thongs!), and more Jiu Jitsu with Mauro.

Beleza!

Day Four

Fui a praia/ Stupid white girl gets sunburnt.

That’s right guys, yesterday we hit the beach. The weather was warm, but not oppressive and while it wasn’t rainy, the sky was still covered in clouds. Before we left, Terra, Claudio’s girlfriend, asked me if I was wearing sunscreen. I assured her that I had some on my face, and that I don’t get sunburnt that easily. The water was cool without being cold and we played in the waves without going too deep and stretched out in the sand getting warm after a few days of rain. Fast forward a couple hours and I started noticing that the parts of me that aren’t usually in the sun were kinda pink. So much for not getting sunburnt easily. I’m still waiting on a surfing lesson, but the waves have been too crazy for a beginner and honestly right now I don’t want to spend too much more time in the sun until pink fades to tan. I feel like such a classic tourist.

Yesterday I ventured out to Jiu Jitsu class all by myself which was a good experience. Claudio and Terra had a play to go to (a play in Portuguese just didn’t really appeal) and so I borrowed a bicycle and rode the two miles from Claudio’s apartment to the gym. I’ve been getting a little spoiled, Claudio and Terra both speak excellent English, so it was good to get out on my own in Rio and try to fend for myself. I got a little bit lost, on both ends. In Claudio’s neighborhood in Baja, everything looks the same…  The good news is now I know how to cross streets “Rio style”. You look both ways until you see an opening, and then run (or bike) like crazy. The way people drive here is downright insane. 

Anyway, I’ve been keeping busy with more jiu jitsu (surprise!) and I’m looking forward to my extended family showing up on Friday. It’s been tons of fun training twice a day, but it will also be nice to transition to tourist mode and get fat and more sunburnt. Tchau.

Dia dois

So once I finished whining about the weather yesterday I ended up having an awesome day. Claudio and I went to train at one of his friend’s houses. Yes you heard me correctly, people have mats in their houses here. And let me just say, training jiu jitsu in the top room of an apartment complex, with a view of the beach on one side and a deck with a swimming pool on the other is not so bad. Even if it’s raining. Brazilians are so gracious, even to the “americana” (that’s me). I don’t think I’m going to be able to find enough ways to say thank you to Claudio and all his friends that he’s introduced me too have been super nice.

I thought I’d take a minute to make my mission statement, for anybody who doesn’t know what I’m up to. Those of you who’ve been bored to death hearing me yatter on about my Brazil trip for the last sixth months, feel free to skip to the next paragraph. I’m on a three week trip that will take every day of my winter break plus some. My goal is to learn some crazy new jiu jitsu tricks, drink tons of acai and educate myself about Brazilian culture, especially surfing. I arrived all by myself, but in a week I’ll be joined by my lovely family who are here on a family reunion/ tracing cultural roots, mission (my maternal grandmother is Brazilian). That’s when my trip will shift from training all the time, to visiting and being a real tourist. Until the parents show, I’m staying with Claudio, my Brazilian Jiu Jitsu black belt, Flavio’s brother. Claudio also trains (twice a day!) so he is very kindly taking me with him to the gym where he trains.

A quick update on how the morning class went, for all my fellow jiu jitsuers. Jiu Jitsu really is an international language, because even though I don’t speak Portuguese, I do speak Jiu Jitsu. Everybody was very nice to the americana and I got to roll with five or six different guys. I was the only girl in the class, but I’m used to that, and there are plenty of guys around my weight or lighter. Gordo, the king of the half guard, was there, and he seems like a really nice guy. Because it was my first day, everybody went really light on me which was nice, but I had no qualms taking advantage of it. I tapped one of the purple belts my a clock choke (ha, ha) so I’m sure the guys will pick up the pace on me over the course of the week. Claudio and I are heading back to train some more this evening, so I guess I won’t be getting fat on this vacation.

I’ve been trying to pick up some Portuguese while I’m here, but all my new vocab seems to consist of food or jiu jitsu. I guess that’s what’s important. So far I have: Farofa- word reference says this is toasted manioc flour. I say it’s delicious! Redondo- round, for me a jiu jitsu choke where you roll in a circle. And vamos comer- let’s eat. Close to the Spanish so it isn’t too tricky.

Anyway it’s food and nap time so I’ll be able to train properly later. Mais depois.

Brasil Day 1

Right now I’m as pouty as it’s possible to be in Rio with a view of the beach. It’s raining like crazy and when I checked the weather “Scattered T” storms are predicted for the rest of the week. Whatever that means. I’m in denial because a week at the beach in the rain would be kinda depressing.

On a brighter note, I get to take my first Jiu Jitsu class in Brazil tomorrow morning. I don’t know how it’s going to be, taking a jiu jitsu class in another language, but I’m sure it’ll be a good experience. At least most directions are visual in Jiu Jitsu so it shouldn’t be too tricky.

Yesterday was an amazing introduction to Rio. I took a long Bike ride along the beach with Claudio. The contrast of the water and the city with the backdrop of mountains is simply breathtaking. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful pics of Rio, but the real thing is different. The sand on the beach is so fine it squeaks and the water goes out forever. A cold Acai drink makes the picture just about perfect. I’m starting to understand why Brazilians are so good at Jiu Jitsu. Between the beach and Acai its impossible not to relax. And all the jiu jitsu royalty met has this laid back attitude. There has to be a connection.

Anyway, more later when the rain stops and my jet lag recedes so I write coherently.

Here’s a map of my itinery courtesy of my techie father: http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&om=1&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=111565754480209005589.0004793ad89e82f4ee873&z=8