For the first couple of years in Jiu-Jitsu, you get smashed.
Bigger, stronger opponents pin you and choke you, and all you do is struggle. If you have any strength, it’s the one asset that keeps you safe for a little while, until someone chokes you out or breaks your arm. If you don’t, you just endure it.
I had strength. I’d been training powerlifting-style, and it came naturally. When I started Jiu-Jitsu, I built my whole game on it, with technique on top.
About three months in, I realized it wasn’t getting me anywhere. I was getting older and stiffer, and the strength I leaned on wasn’t helping me progress. The sport demanded movement, and I kept bringing muscle.
Dropping it was frightening. I could lose the one thing that had kept me upright. I could spend two years getting smashed.
Is it even worth it?
I did it anyway. I cut the powerlifting-style training and moved to bodyweight mobility, with a couple of yoga sessions a week.
Within a few weeks, my body felt lighter. I was more agile and more nimble. Experienced opponents started complimenting my movement. The energy I used to spend on strength was going into technique, and it showed.
That was almost ten years ago. I still train that way.
I think about Cirque du Soleil when I think about that decision.
In the 1980s, the circus business was a slugging match. The big circuses fought over the same things: star clowns and famous animal acts, all for a shrinking family audience.
Cirque du Soleil dropped the animals and the star performers, the things the whole industry treated as the product. It added a theatrical storyline and went after adults who would pay more for a ticket. The old fight became beside the point.
Strength was my only asset when I started, and I made it my strategy. For the circuses, I’d guess it was the animals and the stars.
Nothing was guaranteed.