Class tonight was just drills. No new techniques---Check that. We did the obligatory single-leg drills with Jeremy looking over our shoulders to make sure that we were doing it correctly and fine-tuning our angles and alignment and defenses. After that, we did drills, drills, and more drills. He had each pair of us work on the threads that we will need to know for our next promotion. Works for me, as Friday is only a few days away. [Andy, sorry you missed this one.] Beard John and I worked three drills over and over, switching from one to the other only on command. I was already familiar with the three we worked, so I was happy for the mandated time to fine tune them.
After class, we did three two-minute rounds of live rolling with a new partner each time. I started with Beard John--he defended my omoplata and I ended up tapping him with a bow and arrow (those seem to be my two go-tos at the moment), and after the restart, we stalled out without any serious action before the bell. My next opponent was Jeremy, the purple belt national wrestling champion. He tapped me thrice, but I felt better in the rolls with him tonight than I have in rolls with him before. It isn't like I felt like I was winning or had a positional advantage or anything even close to that. No. That would be silly at this point. Rather, I felt comfortable trying for things, attempting to set up a platform/triangle position, looking for the ankle pick (which, on a wrestler of that caliber, is probably not the best idea), grabbing the elbow and throwing my legs up. I was more aggressive against Jeremy than I have been yet, and that felt---well, it felt good. My third was with Gigantor Zach, and I tapped him thrice (wonderful thing, symmetry). One armlock, one rear-naked, and one platform armbar. I felt good against him as well, but I did keep starting with the same set-up, so I need to diversify my attack, especially against the guys I see every class.
Came home to my wife having semi-cleaned our apartment (which is like it's brand new, as neither of us is picky about the lived-in appearance of our domain) and sitting at the table with a lamp propped over her notebook and typing. That means that she's writing. That means that I'm happy. She should do things like this more often.
I have no rolls scheduled tomorrow, because tomorrow night I have a BBQ that is a temporary sending-off party for my friend and former roommate. He's off to Boston because the love of his life enrolled in a graduate program at a ridiculously well-credentialed school, and now that he has finally convinced her that she's loved him this whole time he's not about to let her out of his sight. That, and Boston has one of the gnarliest ultimate frisbee teams in the world, so he'll be right at home. What that means for tomorrow is that we shall share fine ales and laughs, pretend that distance doesn't exist, and enjoy burning things on the grill. I'll be back on the mats on Thursday, drilling my ass off for Friday's stress and following my drills with bar trivia, as is the norm.
Truly, that might be one of the things that my wife and I have most in common: a love of bar trivia and laughing. She hosts it, so I have to attend, otherwise she considers it shirking my marital duties. She doesn't understand the jiu jitsu. But the beer afterwards? It's common sense.
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