Pans Prep Progress: Happier Ever After Is No Guarantee

“What if I lose in the first round?”

“Well, then you lose in the first round.”

I have been spending a lot of time at jiu jitsu lately, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a lot tired and a little beat up too. I’ve been training for Pans and while I do enjoy the progress that I’ve made so far, in the last three weeks when things are supposed to be ramping up, all I feel at times is a deep seated exhaustion, mixed with a flickering flame of motivation to keep going.

Most of all, I don’t feel ready. I have accepted that I won’t ever feel 100% ready. Even though training has been going well, in all of the past trials that I’ve had, I could reasonably believe that I was prepared because I had taken enough practice exams and tests. Even for the bar exam, I felt reasonably ready, even though it was going to be a difficult exam for the general population to pass.

I have done some things right. I have been watching my diet and my weight carefully. I try to do situationals, and when I don’t feel like going competition speed, I use that time to review my techniques by drilling with other people and sharing with them what I know. I have been lifting and doing cardio. By all measures, I know that I am more ready than if I haven’t been doing any of these things, but deep down, I wonder if I’m ready enough.

The worst part about preparing for competition, for me, is the anticipation. I don’t think I’ve had a good track record of setting adequate expectations of how a competition experience will go. I say experience because the whole process — on and off the mats — is not a guaranteed predictor of success. And because there are no guarantees, my mind inevitably drifts to the thousand and one scenarios where things go horribly wrong for me. That my opponent might be thinking the same thing, or not thinking the same thing, doesn’t bring me solace any way.

Somehow in my mind, the current narrative is that if I do well at this competition, it will prove to me somehow that my jiu jitsu is good enough. And if I do badly, then well… I guess it’s the status quo. I understand abstractly that looking to external sources for validation hardly ever helps with internal confidence. Practicing that mindset though, is harder than the actual training itself.

What terrifies me is that I don’t know how I will feel on competition day. What terrifies me the most is that I don’t know how I will feel, ever, in the future. The uncertainty is not absolute — likely one good day will lead to other good ones — yet since my grandfather’s passing, I’ve been acutely aware of how events can quickly come down and shatter your whole worldview.

The last time I competed in Philly, I had 6 or 7 matches, and I ended up losing every single time except for one. My grandfather had just passed away that week, and I wasn’t really my normal self. I had debated not to compete, but after reading stories of athletes that played through adversity, I decided that I wouldn’t know unless I tried. While I had an incredibly emotional experience, my Philly trip brought to the forefront the importance of mental state and how it affects every aspect of your performance, from reaction time to movement to concentration.

What terrifies me is that I will find out that I’m still the same person with the same demons that plagued me over two years ago when I competed at Pans. A video from a successful competitor said that you should look at your film objectively, and to try to take the emotion out of it, but I still can’t shake the image of myself being stuck in my opponent’s closed guard, not just physically, but mentally as well. What I’m most terrified of is giving up, not only on the match, but on myself.

I don’t think everyone needs to compete to face their demons. But man, does it work with me. That cliche saying is true — I am really my worst enemy. Every time I compete, I learn more about myself than I do about the competition. Some people study their opponents, but I study myself.

The secrets that I have could make a thousand empires fall.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it
I had hoped you'd see my face
And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

- Someone Like You, Adele -