BJJ. How it all started

I’ve been doing sports all my life. It’s not even a habit or a lifestyle anymore - it’s part of my identity. I need movement. It doesn’t matter what kind, the process is important. Physical activity, exercise, results, competitions. I adore it all. If I am limited in this movement due to an injury or any other reason, it immediately affects my emotional state. I become a dissatisfied, grumpy cactus. Instead, physical activity makes me the kindest person in the world. How I have been moving over the past year is what we will talk about here.

I have been watching martial arts for a long time and tried to find time for these classes. But football was my main sport for almost all my life, and I wasn’t going to give it up. Training in two completely different sports is useless if you are not a professional athlete. You will not progress in either of them. And then an occasion happened. I got a meniscus injury playing football and went for surgery. It’s not super complicated in theory, and many people recover in a couple of months and play again. My recovery was delayed and took six months. Either the surgery was done that way, or I was rehabilitated like that, I don’t know the reasons. But this did not stop me from returning to football. Only to return to be under the knife again a year later. This time with a broken anterior cruciate ligament. This is a much more serious injury. I still remembered the feelings of the previous surgery, and I didn’t want to go through it again. I postponed it as long as I could: I had several MRIs, went to several doctors to hear the same conclusion that I had no anterior cross and it would definitely not grow back. Not to have the surgery means rapid destruction of knee cartilage and osteoarthritis at 40. The choice was obvious, though not easy. I made conclusions after the first surgery and this time chose a private clinic at the Institute of Physical Education. They should know a lot about broken knees. I also had friends who had surgery there and then continued to play football, which was clearly an indicator. It was a much more complicated operation: with drilled bones, a donor ligament taken from my own leg and a screw in my knee. Recovery took almost a year or even longer, and my fear of jumping persisted almost two years later. It was also an interesting time. As soon as I had to start going to a rehabilitation clinic, covid came with its quarantine, when even clinics were closed. I went to a class under the supervision of an instructor only once, and it gave me an understanding of what rehabilitation should look like. Its motto was as simple as a door - to pain and a little more. I still get goosebumps when I remember it. I worked according to this scheme at home. Then it got warmer and I started going outside to stretch my legs. After that, I bought some sneakers and started trampling the soft paths of the stadium lanes. That’s how I slowly started running (read more about it here). I could have gotten bored pretty quickly if I hadn’t come up with a challenge. For me, the marathon became such a challenge. If you set a goal, it should be ambitious (here’s more about the marathon). To be honest, in the last weeks of training, I started to get annoyed with it. And it’s not surprising. This is not surprising. At that time, I was running 60-70 kilometers a week at the peak. I needed to do something else (here why and how I chose MMA). I decided to continue training in Montenegro. I found the @mmabudva account on Instagram and wrote that I wanted to join. George (the head coach) said come on over, but we only train in Brazilian jiu-jitsu three times a week now. That was fine for me. So I came.

BJJ was invented not so long ago, in the early twentieth century, by the Gracie clan. It borrows techniques from classical Japanese jiu-jitsu and judo, as well as many new ones for working mainly on the ground. The basis of the BJJ philosophy is the statement that a smaller and physically weaker person can resist a stronger one using various submission techniques. That is, twisting the joints, mainly of the arms and legs, into their unnatural state. And chokes, of course. I often laugh about this, that I quit football to reduce the risk of getting another injury and switched to a sport where screwing joints into an unnatural position is the goal and the way to win. But it is what it is. My first movements in the classroom were clumsy and sometimes ridiculous. The trainers showed me simple techniques and sequences of actions, but in my head it was like calculations from mathematical analysis. I couldn’t put it all together and tried to do the exercise second in a pair to get a better look at its mechanics. But even then, I would get stuck in the middle because I forgot what to do next. A separate story about the first sparring matches. I watched a lot of your MMA and grappling fights and I had an idea of how it works. I also had a little bit of strength. That’s why my strategy was based on a bulldog grip on defense. Because you need to know a little more to attack. Defending is easier: as soon as you feel that someone is trying to separate your limb from your body and twist it into an unnatural position, you defend it. It’s intuitive. You pick up everything on the fly and learn very quickly. And the neck. Everyone can choke you at any time, as soon as you miss a little. But I have a tactical beard there, which gives me a certain advantage in protecting myself from choking. Heh-heh. It looks like a legitimate +5 to armor. I especially remember the first sparring with Bojan, our coach, a young brown belt. He just decided to check what I was capable of and unceremoniously rode me in the first training session. At the time, I felt helpless. But he also showed me the level to which I should aspire.

BJJ, along with the techniques of classical jiu and judo, also borrowed the form of clothing from these disciplines. It is called gi. Some people call it kimono. Almost all martial arts have a similar form of clothing, and you’ve definitely seen it. Accordingly, if the fight takes place without this uniform, and instead the athletes are dressed in a regular rashguard and shorts, it is called no gi. A little explanation for understanding. No gi, by the way, is gaining more and more popularity and has every chance of becoming a separate discipline, which will simply be called grappling. Most often, jiu-jitsu practitioners train both of these areas. They are quite different in terms of speed, control and variability of techniques. No gi is about speed, tempo, leg locks, gi is about control, pressure, kimono as a tool. I started training in the summer and then, for obvious reasons, we practiced only no gi (even without it, you can barely survive in this heat). But soon the fall would come and we would all run away… to buy gi. It was a requirement for the next classes. I went to a neighborhood store and bought the only one that was available. It was so-so, but I wanted to continue training more than I wanted to wait for the delivery from abroad. The first training sessions in the kimono were very different from the previous ones. Although it is designed for freedom of movement, it is still restrictive compared to a regular rashguard and shorts. It’s also not nice to be choked by your own kimono.

To summarize my first training sessions, it was exhaustion, trying to survive under more experienced athletes, and trying to take on people like me by brute force. It was the same story as after a marathon. Before I started, I thought I was physically prepared, and after each training session this myth was busted. I spent a lot of energy on a bulldog grip in defense. I tried to compensate for my lack of skills with force. And there was nothing to think about offensive actions. But there is one very good rule: costinsency is a key. I just kept going to training and enjoyed the process. I enjoyed everything. I knew that sooner or later progress would come. And it didn’t take long. At the end of the fall, I felt it. I improved my basic techniques, and most importantly, I understood the mechanics and principles. Because they are simple, natural and understandable. This was complemented by physical conditioning, and I felt confident among the white belts and every time I tried to impose my game on the blue ones, and even to submit them. Through regular training, I got in good shape in the winter and even planned to enter competitions. The AJP Montenegro tour was about to take place in Montenegro, and I was ready to feel that pleasant spirit of competition again, but in a different, new sport for me. But some guys from the capital made some adjustments to my plan. They were “friends”, as our coach called them, athletes from the capital’s club who came to our training. I was unlucky to spar with one of them.God knows how, he crushed my ribs so that I was just lying on the tatami and could not even move. I’m not being dramatic now, I could barely get up. I was unable to make any movement that required bending my body. Those who have injured their ribs will understand me. Injuries in bjj are a separate topic, I will talk about it later, because I already have my own experience here. So, just before the competition, I got injured and my debut was postponed, but I was already determined to take part in the next one.

We didn’t have to wait long for the next one. At the end of May, Budva hosted its traditional jiu-jitsu cup. It was held under the auspices of the JJIF federation in the ne waza category, and it has a certain peculiarity. JJIF is a ju-jitsu international federation, it’s not exactly about bjj, and although the ne waza category has the same rules as bjj, there is one nuance. There is no division into belts, only into weight categories. Here you can meet a white and a black belt on the same mat. It’s a bit confusing, isn’t it? Yes, it is. I didn’t really understand it all either, I just showed up. Oh, that special pre-start feeling! It’s just something incredible, it’s hard to describe in words. Anyone who has ever competed in an official competition knows what I’m talking about. Pre-start preparations, focused athletes, enthusiastic spectators. These competitions took place on the weekend at the end of my vacation. I weighed about 77-78 kg at the time and could lose a couple of kilograms and fit into the -75 kg category. But I had to do it during my vacation. So I just registered for a higher category, which was -84 kg. And there were many of my teammates in the -75 category. Upon arrival, I looked at the protocol, there were 4 participants, the Olympic system: if you lose, you’re out, if you win, you move on. Everything was simple. There was no fear before the start, but the feeling of competition was evident. The same stiffness that was present at football and volleyball matches, on stadium starting lanes before a sprint, and at the tennis table. It’s the same everywhere. I consider myself an experienced commentator, but this feeling is almost always present. A sense of responsibility for the result. The announcement of my first match caught me quite unexpectedly. I got on the mat, took a bow, and started. My opponent started quite aggressively and was the first to make a successful takedown. I decided to play as the second number and figure out what kind of opponent I was facing, but also not to miss any quick moves. Because there were such attempts already in the first minute of the match. I had to be patient. But my opponent, as expected, put a lot of effort into it, slowed down and was out of breath. I took over the initiative, started scoring points, and then finished him with a choke him, winning a ticket to the final. But I also left most of my strength on the mat. This stiffness is very exhausting, but the price of a mistake is high. We fought with the other finalist for the whole round. The previous ones were 5 minutes each, I was leading in points, controlling my opponent, my coach would tell me that half a minute was left, 20… 10… 3… 2… 1, and the timer doesn’t stop because the finals are 6 minutes long. I had to work for another minute. At such moments, it’s just an age. I was exhausted, but my opponent was exhausted more. That’s why I was able to bring the fight to my victory. I left the tatami completely exhausted physically, but very happy mentally.

My first performance and gold, being a white belt in a competition where there is no division into belts in the weight category. Perhaps this was the confirmation of my progress. The next training session was the last in kimono before the summer mode. After that, there were only no gi sessions. And it became special for me. Before the start, the coach said a few words, honored everyone who participated in the competition (we had a good harvest of medals) and reached into his backpack for something. He pulled out a blue belt and asked me to come over. It was unexpected, very pleasant and uplifting. I got even more motivation and started training even harder. Because now you no longer have a discount for being a white belt. Now you have to correspond to your status and fight with colored belts on equal terms. It was very motivating. I tried to memorize and apply the techniques, analyze the principles, watch additional materials on the topic, and started going to the gym after class to develop my physical condition. In general, I had a schedule of 4 workouts a week, followed by a gym and standard exercises every day. Now I am writing this with an elbow injury. I don’t know the cause of it. It’s just that one morning I woke up with a swollen arm and no ability to bend it. And for more than a month now I have not been able to do even everyday things normally, let alone full training. Apparently, my body could not withstand such a constant load and told me that it needed to rest.

We’re done with the story, now let’s talk about achievements. What does jiu jitsu give me and what can you expect if you take this path. First of all, bjj is a contact martial art. It’s a real fight with a real person. It evokes very strong feelings. Sometimes it even plays on your basic survival instincts. When you’re being choked, you mobilize all your skills and attention to prevent it or to get out of there by all means. You learn to choke people and twist their limbs yourself. You start to realize the limits of your body. Both physical and mental. How much are you willing to suffer, how quickly do you find solutions in stressful situations, how do you act under pressure (moral and physical), can you predict the behavior and next move of your opponent, do you feel fear of your opponent, are you ready to psychologically resist your opponent? You can find answers to all these questions on the tatami. Martial arts is certainly aggression, but it is aggression controlled by rules and under supervision. And it’s a great way to get it out in the right place, rather than carrying it around in the streets. In addition to these advantages, bjj is great for improving strength, stretching, and functional conditioning. All movements are natural, the whole body works. In addition, you can find like-minded people, friends, and partners on the tatami. Almost every gym has an atmosphere of respect and mutual understanding. I love this atmosphere. I am glad that I found a new hobby that has drawn me in.

Last Friday, I had my last training session in the Budva gym. Here I have a new hobby that has a chance to grow into a lifelong activity. Jiu Jitsu can be practiced at any age and for any purpose, whether for results and achievements or just for fun. And I started my journey here. I am sincerely grateful to everyone involved, and especially to coaches George, Bojan and Mark for their contribution to opening the world of this martial art to me and making me an athlete. I hope to share the tatami with them one day, but for now it’s just hvala puno i vidimo se. This stage is coming to an end. A new one is ahead.

oss!