I was 20 years old in 2011. Second year of University studying Computer Science and Psychology. The only activity I made sure I would do daily wasn’t to attend lectures or study, it was to get coffee before skipping class. I somehow made my way through all my exams, albeit learning nothing of substance. Sounds like a wasted year right? Negative. 2011 was a significant year in my life. Not because of a substantial economic “uprising” called Occupy Wall Street. Not because one of the greatest innovators of this generation Steve Jobs passed away. But 2011 was the year I was introduced to one of the most underappreciated arts in the world. Lying in bed and bored ******** with assignments due the following day, I decided to procrastinate on procrastinating by searching the most popular podcasts on iTunes. After skipping all the academic ones, I landed on “The Joe Rogan Experience”, hosted by surface meathead and self-proclaimed psychedelic adventurer Joe Rogan. I didn’t know much about Rogan at that point, only that he hosted some game show called “Fear Factor”. However, the very first JRE made a lasting impression on me. It was episode 93 featuring Rogan’s best friend and 10[sup]th[/sup]planet Jiu-Jitsu founder, Eddie Bravo.
As I soaked in the crude jokes, conspiracy talk, Rogan and Bravo’s rant of the benefits of marijuana, I became hooked to one particular subject. Jiu-jitsu was almost as foreign to me as quantum mechanics. I knew of its existence, but I had no clue what it entailed and the almost perfect blend of art and science behind it. As the JRE became my new addiction, the topic of Jiu-Jitsu became my drug of choice. I was fascinated by the fact that somebody my size could incorporate leverage, technique and specific angles to manhandle another human being double in mass, while not leaving a single scratch or bruise but taking away all of their masculinity.
For over a year, I never missed an episode of the JRE and I became a follower of MMA. The raw intensity, emotion and humans’ suppressed animalistic instincts unleashed inside the Octagon. As my curiosity sky-rocketed, I decided it was time to venture into the world of martial arts. As someone who relies on his analytical abilities to make a living, and who’s aware of the potential brain damage in striking, Jiu-Jitsu was a perfect and logical starting point.
As I picked up my near non-existent courage and testicles, I decided it was time for my first Jiu-jitsu lesson. I’ve played competitive basketball since I was 13 and have been in relatively good shape since then. However, the introduction to Jiu-Jitsu was something I never expected. The anticipation was akin to losing my virginity, and the fatigue I finished class with was comparable to a 1 hour non-stop missionary sex marathon. Mat burns, sore knees, bruised joints, spinning headache, everything I wanted to avoid I received. Interestingly though, the enjoyment was also comparable to sex. Despite the agony, it may have been one of the most enjoyable activities my boring sorry excuse of a life has been exposed to. Merely learning the basic guard position felt like I gained a wealth of knowledge, more than I ever learned at school or at work, and I left the lesson feeling like a better man (not like that’s saying much).