Embracing the Mat: My Jiu Jitsu Competitive Journey at 47

Age is but a number; a cliché often heard but not often truly comprehended. At 47, after a year and a half of training, I found myself competing in jiu jitsu. The journey wasn't solitary – by my side was my tenacious 13-year-old daughter, equally immersed in the sport, striving to outdo her own benchmarks.

One might wonder, why step onto the mat with competitors half your age? The answer wasn’t about accolades, but a life lesson: lead by example. I wasn’t training for a medal. I was training for life. For resilience. For the experience. And in that training, I found life’s lessons intricately woven between each grappling session.

The art of jiu jitsu isn't just about learning offense. It's learning how to protect oneself against an unfriendly opponent trying to submit you, and boy, was my initiation intense. The adrenaline of my first tournament overwhelmed me, turning a calculated match into a pure test of strength. I lost, injuring my arm in the process. Yet, the mats beckoned me back, teaching me how to interpret an opponent's moves and intentions.

My journey on the mat became synonymous with learning calmness. The importance of not panicking, of reacting thoughtfully rather than impulsively. This was, and still is, a work in progress.

Throughout the year, I found myself competing seven times. There were victories, losses, and lessons in each. One profound realization was that initiating contact, making the first move, gives you an advantage. Dictating the match meant my opponents were always responding to my strategies.

However, training taught me a deeper lesson. Every session was not about overpowering, but learning. Every roll was an opportunity to learn new positions, escapes, and grow. My ego was checked countless times, submitted repeatedly. But every tap was a lesson in humility and persistence.

Age, fatigue, weight – they became adversaries too. They taunted my spirit, reminding me of every disadvantage. Yet, every time I was submitted, I remembered why I was doing this. It was about surpassing my own limitations, about realizing that with humility and persistence, we can make improvements over time.

Every tournament was a chapter. The ups and downs, fighting against competitors younger, stronger, and heavier, often made me the underdog. But there was pride in knowing that not many in their late forties dared to compete in the light-featherweight category. That pride multiplied when I developed a game plan tailored to my strengths.

The climax? Two tournaments in a week. My honed game plan led me to my first gold medal in the initial tournament. But the real test was at the largest jiu jitsu tournament in the world, the IBJJF Jiu Jitsu Con in Las Vegas. For the first time, I was competing against peers in both age and weight. The result? A hard-fought win in the first match, and a close loss in the second. Yet, standing on the podium twice in a week, gold and silver medals shining around my neck, was surreal.

This journey, filled with sweat, taps, and resilience, showed me that progress is a series of small, persistent steps, not a giant leap. At my age, it’s clear that success, whether on the mat or in life, is a blend of patience, persistence, and humility.

Staying composed under pressure, evaluating options, and making informed decisions are lessons that jiu jitsu has ingrained in me – lessons that hold value beyond the mat.

As I reflect, my journey isn't about reaching a destination. It's about embracing every experience, every fall, and every victory. It's about growing in gratitude, humility, and skill. It's about understanding that the journey is perpetual and every moment on the mat is an opportunity to learn and grow.

In jiu jitsu, just like in life, the journey is always more rewarding than the destination. My journey continues, and I'm excited for every twist and turn it has in store for me.