It was my first day learning any 7-guard and X-guard moves. Super cool, hopefully useful to my body type, and definitely helpful in getting out of bad spots.
Rolled with Andy, New John, and Tony in class today. Andy and I know each other far too well on the mat, so while it's useful and fun, I think we run the risk of catering our game to beat the other unless we mix up our partners. New John is still a pile of strength and held breath. He didn't allow himself to get tapped by me when starting in mount, so good on him. I don't know how much it wore his arms down, but I also should have been able to adapt and vary my attacks to get the finish. I did better against Tony than I expected to. Starting in mount, he didn't tap me. Starting mounted, he got up, but not as easily or as quickly as I thought he would. In side control, it was the same old story: I was flat on my back, but he couldn't get anything going. I kept my arms tight and monitored his hips. In my side control, I had slightly less success than I had in mount. Not a bad day of rolling, but not a great one, either.
After class, Tony complimented me and said that I'm getting better every day. I was thinking about that on the way home, and how it doesn't feel like I'm getting better every day. It feels like I'm at the same place I was three months ago, when I had just learned not to grip until my knuckles went white. It was one of those days when I didn't do anything terribly wrong--at least, no more than I usually do--but I didn't do anything that made something click in my head, I never felt like I was in control and seeing a move or two ahead (let alone three or five), I never really settled into a groove. It's nice to hear these kinds of compliments, and at Klint's academy, guys who come over from Damian's tell us white belts "man, you guys are tough white belts" often enough that it isn't an uncommon occurrence. I do, though, wish it came with some sort of tangible feeling, some sort of enhanced confidence and awareness. Instead, I'm still the same guy with a flexible right leg who, when he remembers to use technique and keep his wrist away from his ankle, occasionally garners the approbation of his peers.
Three consecutive days of training is a lot. I mean, I read that and I make fun of myself, because really it isn't. I've been eating (in the general sense) and taking in calories and sleeping and all that. But my legs feel like dead weight. And my face looks funnier than normal, what with the mat burn and nicks and scrapes from rough gis and errant elbows. If only this wasn't so much damn fun.