My Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Journey: How Grappling Changed My Life

Introduction: My First Real Taste of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu

My First Year

This is How Brazilian jiu-jitsu changed my life! I remember that day vividly—like it was yesterday. I'd barely been in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ) for about a month. At that stage, I had a simple belief: never turn down a roll with anyone, because in real life, you can’t pick and choose your opponent, right? My partner that day was a blue belt with a couple of stripes and outweighed me by about 50 pounds. He's one of those grapplers, and every school has one, that only knows one gear-full throttle.

I found myself pinned on my back, trapped beneath his side control, with every pound of his weight pressing relentlessly into my ribs. I couldn’t breathe. Exhausted and panicked, I tapped out from sheer pressure. It was a harsh awakening—and one small insight into why people either persevere in BJJ or walk away forever. It’s not just physical; it’s deeply psychological.

Background: The Journey Before BJJ

To give a little perspective, I’m now in my early 60s, and martial arts have been a significant part of my life for at least the past three decades. Before that, during high school, I dipped my toes in—but never seriously enough. Interestingly, I had tried Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu twice before. And quit. Both times.

My first attempt lasted barely four months. I struggled mentally, lacking guidance to overcome psychological hurdles and concocted convenient excuses—mainly that the school was "too far away." But deep down, quitting troubled me; it felt like defeat. Was my core personality that of a quitter?

My second try was longer—around nine months—but history repeated itself. Same hurdles, same excuses. Quitting began to haunt me. Even though I already had a black belt and high ranks in other arts, BJJ was different, tougher somehow. Yet strangely, it remained compelling—unfinished business in my psyche.

Then fate intervened. A school opened nearby, offering both Muay Thai and legitimate BJJ training. "Third time's a charm," I thought. I knew this was it. If I quit again, something was fundamentally wrong. Determined, I dove back into the grind.

Physical Challenges: Grappling’s Unique Demand

There's no real way to prepare yourself adequately for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. It's like being thrown into deep waters without swimming lessons. Even if you’ve boxed or sparred elsewhere, BJJ is uniquely taxing physically and mentally. You quickly learn managing your energy is as crucial as your technique.

In those first six months, I battled injury, exhaustion, and frustration. Managing strength, flexibility, defense, and attack simultaneously felt overwhelming. Broken bones, pulled muscles, stretched ligaments—injuries accumulated, yet none became reasons to quit this time. Why? Because this time was different. I shifted my mindset, thanks in part to Jocko Willink’s podcasts—embracing difficulty and learning from failure instead of running from it.

Mental Battles on the BJJ Mats

But grappling's physicality was only part of the challenge. Mentally, BJJ exposed character traits I didn't even realize were there. One instructor often remarked, "the mats reveal who you truly are." If you're shy, aggressive, fearful, or too passive, sooner or later, grappling exposes that.

I remember a teammate who constantly worried about hurting others—pausing mid-roll to check if his partner was okay. One day our coach bluntly told him, "You're not gonna win matches by being a nice guy." Harsh words, but transformative ones. Over time, that teammate evolved, finding the strength within himself to assertively grapple without compromising kindness. BJJ made him, and me, examine deeper psychological layers we rarely confront otherwise.

Overcoming Psychological Obstacles Through Competition

Initially, competing in BJJ was unimaginable for me. Regular classes were exhausting enough—tournaments seemed insane. Yet today, I've competed multiple times, with another tournament approaching soon. Interestingly, I've experienced distinct psychological transformations with each event.

In my first tournament, I felt strangely calm and emotionless—turns out, it meant I didn't care enough, and unsurprisingly, I didn't perform well. Later competitions brought nerves and anxiety—proof that I actually cared. Now, I approach tournaments with clarity, treating matches as puzzles rather than emotional battles. As BJJ champion Adam Wardzinski recently stated after winning IBJJF gold: “Fight by fight, without expectations, without emotions, grip after grip… hopefully your hand gets raised.” That resonates deeply with me today.

Transformations: How BJJ Changed Me Inside and Out

Ultimately, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was never about becoming tough. It was about discovering what needed improvement within me through rolling, through failing, and through camaraderie with my teammates. Each training session now brings new insights into resilience, empathy, health, and patience.

Practically speaking, BJJ made me more focused, respectful, patient, and calm. If I can survive hard rounds on the mats, everyday obstacles at work or home seem manageable—even trivial. Beyond martial arts skills, grappling has profoundly sharpened my mental clarity, leadership, and emotional health.

Conclusion: Why Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Was Different

I've trained Tae Kwon Do, Hapkido, Krav Maga, Boxing, Kali, Escrima, Jeet Kune Do, and Aikido. All valuable in their way. Yet none changed me fundamentally like Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. BJJ taught me genuine self-reflection and real-world resilience.

Maybe it's the relentless physicality, the psychological revelations, or the camaraderie forged in sweat and struggle—but whatever it is, BJJ has transformed my life more profoundly than any other martial art.

In the end, my BJJ journey wasn’t about avoiding being labeled a quitter; it was about finally understanding the beauty of persistence, humility, and genuine self-improvement through grappling. It took me decades and multiple attempts, but today I finally understand—grappling wasn't something I chose; it was something that chose me.