Sink Swim or Fight?

The ground is my ocean, I’m the shark, and most people don’t know how to swim. ~Carlos Machado

It’s been almost ten years since I began training in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and today it hit me. I need to decide to get better or I need to quit.

I get into physical things–no matter what they are–in the spirit of Steve Prefontaine. At first it may be curiosity, or frugality (I do a lot of my own remodeling at home), but the sustaining interest is powered by Pre: to see who has the most guts.

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is first about guts. Stepping on the mat places you in a world where few enter and fewer and fewer stay. That is not even considering the levels of success any one may achieve.

In my experience, my learning curves are steeper than some. Over time they regress to the norm as they should. Depending on the domain, they may stay ahead of those around me. I know this about myself and, admittedly, I allow it to prevent me from working hard–norm calibrated rather than criterion calibrated. As a musician I could stay pretty consistently ahead of the curve when in a new situation without any effort.

That is a confession not braggadocio.

It is shameful to think that spending time practicing could have produced a variety of outcomes, some with life changing potential. I did not act.

While an undergrad it became known that I played the french horn though it was not my major instrument. The orchestra director offered to secure an instrument and I requested weekly lessons in exchange for my participation. A golden opportunity to study with a well known musician and to perform both repertoire and some contemporary music. My teacher told me I had a beautiful tone and excellent pitch. I rarely practiced. Made plenty of mistakes in rehearsals. It did not last but I look back and wonder what could have been different if I took hold of that opportunity wholeheartedly.

I am reminded of an Old Testament passage where the prophet Elisha tells the King of Israel to strike the ground with an arrow.

18 And he said, “Take the arrows,” and he took them. And he said to the king of Israel, “Strike the ground with them.” And he struck three times and stopped. 19 Then the man of God was angry with him and said, “You should have struck five or six times; then you would have struck down Syria until you had made an end of it, but now you will strike down Syria only three times.” (2 Ki 13.18-19)

That being said, I can always say that I could have done more. And further, I am not including all of the other life factors that may have had a genuine influence on how committed I was to the work. AND I was a kid–that was a lifetime ago.

Bringing me back to my practice of Jiu Jitsu and my attempt to maintain an reflective awareness of my practice. When I began studying Jiu Jitsu, I was good. Or, at least, that is what I was told by others. I was able to get to class three or more times each week and was not in tremendous shape. I watched videos and read books about Jiu Jitsu. I was in. Deep.

Jump ahead. Craniotomy. Complete grad school. Have a daughter. Buy a house, work on house, move, keep working on house. Have a son. Shoulder repair. Change jobs. That last few years have not had me on the mats very much at all. Schedules have been rough. Recovery from a recent surgery was slower than expected. I have been on the mats twice since getting the OK from the doctor.

What was most clear today is that everyone has improved. My skills that were competitive a few years ago are not as competitive as they were. Attribute some of that to rust and being a little gunshy with the shoulder, fine. I was constantly scrambling and defending. Out of breath. HOT.

Granted, I managed to get in a full class and three or four sparring matches afterwards. All tough matches for me–I like to train with people who are better than me and I do not mind “losing” at all. I say “losing” because we all know that it means very little to tap or reset a sparring match. Some folks still keep track. I do. A little.

I am tired and sore. Worse than that is that I know what I need to do to improve and have to decide if I am willing to start doing it.

Becoming Nobody

Online chess. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It is a stretch to say that I like losing but I consider myself game. Gamey? Gamer. Willing. Much more willing to lose than not to play. Grow or at least have the experience. That will pave the way one pebble at a time.

So often you will hear in a conversation or read in a blog or social media outlet that someone considers themselves a “lifelong learner.” I wonder what they are learning? In my informal survey of these statements, it is typically a statement about one’s willingness to improve or change their current skills. Is that not what everyone does or is expected to do? Formally, I would enjoy gaining more information about genuine levels of objective growth and change rather than anecdotes about life-changing events and decisions that “really moved (institution X) forward.

improve or destroy

As one who enjoys martial arts, I look at all areas of my life to reveal my training partner. It changes by day and by context but the function is the same. By working together, each one has the goal of improving their skill and they cannot do it alone. Regardless of your training partner, you can only have one competitor. Self. Choose how much practice takes place, quality of food, level of hydration, and intensity of work. Make the decision to be present. Aware.

Before I step onto the mats I determine my attitude and I am sure that it influences who obliges when I offer to pair up for a session of training. So many would love to say that “any given Sunday” I may win a match or lose a match; have an up day or a down day. That is not the case. My training session begins the night before when I decide to get a decent night’s sleep and moves forward with decisions throughout the day. There are not many decisions to be made. There is one. Then another one.

Me and Relson
Mugging for the camera with Relson Gracie

Watching the documentary “Bobby Fischer Against the World,” I heard David Shenk saying that there were 40,000 moves on a chess board after the first move. If you know anything about chess, you know that this is inaccurate. From both a mathematical standpoint as we as a meaningful standpoint, it is inaccurate. The only one with thousands of moves before them in a chess match is a fool.

Every decision made through the day determines an analog success or failure on the mat that evening. However you may score it. We all score it somehow. That is how we measure growth. I will not pretend to be one of the “all for fun” types. I will not claim to be a technician or analyst of the game but I know this–there are necessary and sufficient conditions in order to achieve growth and most of them depend on me.

Become nobody. Be humble. Serve. Give. Leave your ego at the door. I will take it one step further…maybe several steps. Those decisions that you make all week determine the type of training partner you will be for someone and reciprocally, they will then be for you. Rather than simply preparing yourself to respond and react, prepare yourself to be your best for someone else.

Mat Rats–Contextual coaching towards Expertise

It is rare that I have anything that resembles spare time but in the words of Lemmy, who at the time was referencing beer, “There’s no such thing as extra, but you can have some of mine!”

Don’t you touch me baby ‘cos I’m shakin’ so much
Creative Commons license via egvvnd

Time is a hot commodity in the @DrTimony household these days and between the full time job, part time job, wife, pre-K mini-@Timony, and sleep, it gets downright sticky. When it gets sticky, stress has its opportunity to creep onto the agenda making the brief moments of repose seem barely worth the while. The first thing that tends to suffer the wrath of the scheduling blade is getting to my gym of choice, Balance Studios. And, as many of the sharper readers know, exercise is probably the one thing that could make a life less stressful.

Getting back to the mats has increased the calm in my life. Some friends have said that it must be nice to “blow off some steam” by sparring. I understand the sentiment but it could not be more distant from the truth. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (the gentle art) provides me with some of the greatest calm that I experience through the week. There is no steam. It is more like meditation. Meditation with chokes and joint locks.

Even while sitting off to the side to catch my breath, I enjoy watching the chess match unfolding before me.

Josh R. Vogel earning his brown belt

This week I was able to take in some excellent instruction and engage in several challenging matches. Watching some friends ‘roll’ gave me time to reflect on my decision making process on the mat as well as the input that I received during and after some matches. It is common to pause after a match, submission, or major positional transition and have a training partner provide a few words of feedback. I sat watching and began to categorize the different types of training partners that I encountered that day and in days past. Listening to the narrative of breaths, compliments, corrections, and encouragements. The roles of individuals on the mat depended on the equity of skills. I found myself in the catbird seat among a dynamic context of coaching and made note of a few characters.

The nicknames that I give to these folks are non-judgmental and are solely intended to differentiate.

The Lion: Confident in skills and willing to let the training partner experience dominant positions to practice their offense. The Lion is conversely willing to place the opponent into unenviable, defensive positions with a fraction of the pressure to encourage escapes with good technique. Timely, rare, encouragements inspire.

Cubs: These are real gamers–there is equity in skill and respect. They match each other in intensity which often varies. The level of effort and challenge is often expressed in percentages. These training partners may agree on a level of challenge at 30-50-75% often called ‘flow-rolling.’ This is done to work on the transition more than the endgame. It is common to hear talk-aloud discussion during their training or to pause to make corrections or to discuss best methods for drilling a particular maneuver.

The Predator: This is the no-nonsense competitor who moves from dominant position to dominant position seeking the submission regardless of the equity of the matchup. For over-matched partners, you will typically see them spending their time surviving and tapping when they cannot prevent the choke or joint lock.

These are only a few of the models that may be seen on the mats and I cannot help but wonder how these context specific coaches may serve to advance high level skill acquisition and the progression towards Expertise. More to come.

The Myth of 10,000 Hours

What I want to say most to start this off is, “Who came up with ten thousand hours, anyway?!” except I know where it came from and to be honest I am sick of hearing about it.

But who's counting?

Ten thousand hours has become common. Journalists have reduced it to nothing. They have beaten it to death. Even when it is not referencing Expertise, you will hear ten thousand hours being bandied about. It. Just. IS.

I hate to break it…no…I love to break it to you. Ten thousand hours means nothing.

The research that spawned this number was performed on 40 violinists and was seeking to find some common experiences and habits among some of the best of them. Those violinists who had achieved the highest levels of skill had accumulated about seven thousand hours of practice by age 18 and about ten thousand hours of practice by age 20.

These data were common among a very small group of musicians from among a small group of subjects. Data on practice time was self-reported. From this article, came our famous misinterpretation by Gladwell who took it upon himself to recognize “experts” in retrospect by attributing ten thousand hours of practice to individuals and groups.

Outliers. Silliness.

Expertise is superlative. It is rare. It is domain specific and its definitions and components do not transfer to other domains. That is to say that those things that contribute to Expertise in violin playing are not likely to contribute to Expertise in another content area.

While some may ask why it is important to make these distinctions I find it compelling. There are other conditions that are necessary for the achievement of Expertise. It is possible for anyone to become competent with enough practice, guidance, and some motivation. It is not possible to become and Expert on these things alone–even with ten thousand hours of deliberate practice.

Many will live out their existence as “experienced non-Experts,” or the more pedestrian “merely competent” despite significant dedication and many hours, weeks, and years of practice. So sorry.