That "Oh Shit" Moment

Last Monday, I had the "Oh Shit" moment. You know the one. It is the moment that you realize you are completely fucked, and that there is nothing you can really do about it. Last Monday, I was training krav maga. It was actually one of my favorite training sessions, because we got to train scenarios. These were individual exercises, where the instructor and top two students would set up a scenario. We then had to react, based on what we would do in the real world. While each person went through the scenario individually, everyone else was in a room, training. 

It was during the non-scenario training that I had my moment. For whatever reason, I was particularly interested in training grappling. As a result, I ended up wrestling with two people for over 30 minutes. The first person I wrestled was a 12-year-old kid. Why did I choose to wrestle him? Because he is a fast motherfucker. I mean, goddamn was he quick. I am not. In fact, I like to joke that I am good a powerlifting because it was easier than running. Wrestling with this kid, however, I had to move quickly. And to be fair, the kid did well. There were several times that he would have submitted me, except that I was just bigger and stronger. 

Then there was the other training partner. When he said he would train with me, I figured, "Why not?" I soon learned why not. As soon as we started to grapple, and the guy grabbed my should, my thought was "oh, shit". My subsequent thoughts were, "survive, escape, fuck, escape, survive, shit, fuck, damn it, oh fuck he has me in a choke hold, this sucks". I then proceeded to tap out, before I passed out. After the match, I found out that this guy was trained in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ). For those that don't know, BJJ is essentially wrestling on steroids. I tried wrestling that guy again, and I thought I was doing well. Next thing I know, he has me in a front guillotine and I'm getting choked out again. 

And so that was how the night went. I would wrestle against a spry young fellow, who had endless energy, and then get choked out by a good-ole-boy. To make matters worse, there was a person in the class that kept commenting about how I would be sore in the morning, while the kid wouldn't feel a thing. I mean seriously?! I just got choked the fuck out and you are telling me that I will feel it in the morning?! I was feeling it that night! I was laying on my back, heaving, and this person kept talking like I was some old geezer. To be fair, I did feel it in the morning. And to be fair, I went home to my wife saying that I looked 20 years older than I am. 

Moral of the Story: I learned why you never grapple longer than you need to. Because you never know when a good-ole-boy is going to choke you the fuck out. Oh, and I am still feeling the aftermath of those matches.