Imagine, if you will (and if all this BJJ terminology doesn't confuse you), the scenario my wrestling coach Jordan walked in on today. To begin: I was on bottom mount, being grapevined by my head instructor Christiaan. Christiaan was being inverted triangled by my fellow white-three-stripe Hurley. Hurley was also guillotining the new guy Tyler, who was trying to wedge himself in to take a rear-mount. Christiaan weighs about 175 pounds. Hurley about 155. Tyler about 170.
Imagine, if you will, being crushed by three bodies making a combined weight of 500 pounds.
Imagine, if you will, what Jordan must be thinking right now. I'm not entirely sure what a normal person would do in this situation, but this is what Jordan did: he calmly removed his shoes, walked over to us and started TICKLING us. Remember when you imagined what 500 pounds on you felt like? Now imagine if it suddenly started squirming violently around on you.
The worst part? We were supposed to be doing kickboxing.
Another weekend recap: Saturday was the CBJJF's BC Provincial Championships held at a local University. This is their third tournament, and second at the new location, which works quite well. I dropped weight over a 3-week period, going from 167-ish to 160.8 (buck-naked) morning of. I registered for Lightweight Gi an No-Gi, but as my luck goes, my div tends to go last, no matter what. Provincials were no exception. They called Lightweight White Belts up just after 11AM, got us weighed in (I passed inspection handily and weighed in 2.5 pounds under the maximum), and then started getting our matches going. At my level, we go for up to 5 minutes, less if someone is submitted. My first match was second last on the bracket, and right as the guys ahead of me finished, they stopped to allow the Black Belts to get one of their matches done. Black Belts roll for up to 10 minutes, and these guys took every second allotted to them. While letting the Black Belts have at 'er, some of the volunteers, officials and referees took a break for lunch. Unfortunately, my favourite ref Harley - who was reffing my division right before they stopped - went to eat and thus I had a different ref when my match finally started. And I got man-handled by my opponent. Stavros, a 4-stripe out of Gracie Barra. He had a pretty wicked takedown that I didn't see coming at all, and worked an effective cross-collar from mount. I, unfortunately, forgot how to trap elbows and bridge, which would have been key when my shrimps kept failing. He won, I was eliminated. No-Gi is after the Open Weight Gi Division finishes, and for once it seemed like I would get to roll before the Blue belts, since they were still going strong in the Open Weight. Unfortunately, I was the last match on the bracket, three ahead of me. Christiaan, my coach, was first of one match. So even though his div was called after me, he fought and finished before my first match concluded. I won my first two matches by way of DQ, both opponents attempted - by accident - ankle locks and knee-bar transition (both moves are illegal until the purple or brown belt level). My third and final opponent was much more savvy, and continuously came at me wrestling-style (which I am far more comfortable defending). We moved around the mats a lot while still standing, and were reset to centre multiple times by the ref because we came to close to the edge of the ring. Each time I was attempting to sink in a guillotine while defending his takedown. Eventually he managed the takedown for 2 points while I came close to a submission win. He passed to half-guard, I reversed from bottom to top, he attempted to take my back, ended up taking mount just as the match ended. We had spent a LOT of time trying to take it to the ground. He won, thus earning the gold, while I took silver. Except at this point, they ran out of Gold and Silver medals, and had at least half a dozen divisions that required them. So we left our addresses and what division/medal we earned and left. By this time it was 5PM, and I had been there since 9AM.
Sunday was the BMO Vancouver Marathon, where I participated in the half-marathon of 21km or 13.1 miles. I didn't quite live up to my attempt of going for less than two hours, I finished with a time of 02:01:01. On the course near the end, a blonde cyclist was cheering on the runners, and as I passed, showed signs of recognition and waved. I smiled and waved back and then wondered who exactly that was. I know very few females who cycle, and even less who would head about as far west as one possibly can in Vancouver to cheer people on before Elevensies. Of course, it could have been a figment of my imagination. I'm pretty sure at the 15km mark I yelled out "I eat 6k for breakfast, and I AM HOOOONGRY!" (Because at that point, I was disappointed I was only at the 15km mark, until I did math and realized that a mere 6km remained). After I finished and received my well-earned massage, I received a few updates from my friend/teammate who was doing the full. She was starting to struggle, so I ran back through the course and met her just after the 39km mark, and then ran her in. I definitely paid for the extra 5km on Monday.
Friday was WarPath VI, an amateur card which featured my former teammate Christian "The Ghost" Tremayne versus Johnny "Two Feathers" Williams and my coach Christiaan "The Coyote" Allaart versus Miller Rogers. Ghost lost via TKO (though I'm sure it was closer to KO than TKO). Rogers walked out to "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen, and no lie, our entire team was dancing in the blue corner. In the end Christiaan won via Split, and then we took off like a bat out of hell.
(mind you, the fight doctor left even faster than we did, the f***ing a***ole)
We left quickly because we had to drive several hours to make it to the city where Tough Mudder was being held. We left the fights at 11:30PM, made it in just over 30 minutes to pick up Christiaan's wife, grabbed a quick dinner-on-the-go and then booted our way up to Whistler. We went horizontal by 3:30AM.
And then we woke up around 6AM to a team who were all far more chipper than he and I. A quick breakfast, and then off to the event area by 7AM. Our start time was 9AM, but we started at 8:45 to the most badass and wicked MC's I've ever had the pleasure of listening to. Legit music, double-legit hoo-rah speech and we were off!
For those who don't know, Tough Mudder is a 10+ mile run filled with a dozen or so varying obstacles including (but not limited to): ice-water plunges (and in our case a plunge into a frozen lake), wall-climbs (6, 8 and 10 feet in height), avoiding barbed-wire (ducking under, jumping over, or crawling beneath), rope-climbing and descending, mud-bogs, fields of snow (snow-blindness not advertised), monkey-bars over water, making it up a slippery half-pipe, crawling beneath cargo-netting and more!
Oh, and getting shocked by 10,000 volts of electricity. Apparently I don't conduct electricity well and didn't actually get shocked as I shot through The Electric Eel.
The very first obstacle known as "The Arctic Enema" (which involved jumping into icy coloured water and swimming underneath a board to climb out the other side wasn't so much of a challenge physically as it was mentally. It was 9AM, I was shirtless in 9C weather (or about 48F), I was tired, and we had to jump into 0C water almost right away. As soon as I cannonballed into the water, swam under and climbed out, I was fine. My torso dried off quickly, and my shorts warmed up with the running afterwards. However, I managed to cut my forehead in four places, presumably on one chunk of ice. I dripped green water from my body, and realized that red water was dripping from my head. I matched Christiaan in our ability to bleed from the left side of our heads.
Without a doubt, Tough Mudder is about teamwork. Your team must work together and you must work to help others. It's not a race, it's a challenge. Strategies were required and formed for the Berlin Walls, Everest (the half-pipe) and Glacier (sliding down a hill of snow and plunging into a frozen lake).
My core got the biggest workout of its life during Everest, I made my long reach even longer by having a teammate anchor my feet down and allowing me to lean over the edge from the waist. I would snag an arm and haul you up via abdominal, oblique, latissimus dorsi and deltoid muscle groups. Someone else would snag your other arm or a leg and assist in the hauling.
Berlin walls saw me either balancing on top of a 2x6 (and balancing on the 2 inch side, not the 6 inch side) via my quadriceps to haul you up, or hoisting you up with arms or using my shoulder as a step.
Glacier shows you how fast you will die if you fall into a frozen body of water. The dude who hauled me out of the lake earned himself beers for life should I ever see him again. The water was four to five feet deep, and you got cold quickly.
The Death March requires special attention since you climb almost 800 metres uphill in the span of less than a kilometre. You start at an elevation of about 850 metres above sea-level and end up climbing to just over 1550 metres. There is no running up an incline that steep, at that elevation you won't be able to get enough oxygen to your muscles and you will either cramp or destroy muscle groups. Just don't stop.
We started as a team, and we finished as a team, but without a doubt I would have fallen were it not for Christiaan. He pushed me (literally) to finish running up a mountain for over two miles. He pulled me up (literally) Everest with our combined grit and determination (and extremely long arm-span).