Takedown Hell

The last couple weeks in the evening class, we have been doing takedowns and wrestling. 

I.  Hate.  It. 

I really do.  Really and truly and honestly with every fiber of my being.  It scares me.  Terrifies me.  I actually start to get a little shaky before class because I'm so scared. 

Have I ever been hurt during a takedown?  No. 

Have I seen people get hurt?  No. 

I used to do gymnastics as a kid.  I was pretty good.  The one event I could not do was the vault.  Terrified me.  Who, in their right mind, runs straight at a large, inanimate object, at full speed?  Who does that???

I have the same feeeling with takedowns and wrestling.  Who, in their right mind, lets someone come at them and take them to the ground?!?!? It's just so unnatural!! My biggest problem is that I am utterly terrified of two things:  (1) Getting hurt and (2) hurting someone else.  Yes, I realize it is a combat sport.  Yes, I realize that for all intents and purposes you need to hurt someone **a little** in order to be successful.  But I can't get past how unnatural it seems to throw someone down on the mat and be alright with someone tossing me down onto the mat. 

That said, I have been going to class.  I have been getting out there and doing the single leg, the double leg, the arm drag, and the fireman's carry.  I've done them all in drilling, and I have attempted them all in sparring.  I have had them done on me in sparring and I have not died.  I will go back again tonight and do it all over. 

I will not quit.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Lots has been going on in my life, both in and out of the gym, that has caused me to sit back and reflect on what I really want for my life.

When I am in the gym, I am happy.  There is nothing better than sitting on the mat at the end of a class dripping in sweat.  Even if I got ground to a pulp during every roll, I still feel a sense of accomplishment.  I've been working the scissor sweep and focusing on open guard, and feel like I'm finally getting things together.  For the next few weeks we are working wrestling and stand up and I am forcing myself to have no fear and just do it.  It's terrifying, but I'm going to get it done.

When I am at home with my husband, I am happy.  It isn't the house, though it is wonderful, it is just being there with him.  He's been through everything with me and he still believes in me.  Knowing how much he loves me makes me feel happy and safe.

Happy is not a word you could use to describe me at work.  And so, after a lot of thought and tears, I'm done.  I can't live my life miserable for 12 hours a day, 6 days a week.  So, I'm spending a lot of time figuring out what I am passionate about and how to turn that into something that I would love to do every day for the rest of my life.  Wish me luck!