Longing for Vegas

As a break from the usual health and fitness posts, this is the first blog post in a series documenting my inevitable demise as I chase my mid-life-crisis fuelled dream of winning the World Master IBJJF Jiu-Jitsu Championship.

Each year at the end of August in Las Vegas, masters Brazilian Jiu Jitsu athletes with sufficient funds to afford the trip there (and the IBJJF membership and competition fees), battle it out against the best in their age, weight and belt category in a quest to be the best. For those unfamiliar with BJJ, this tournament is where middle-aged warriors gather to see who can apply the most strangles or joint locks without injuring themselves or needing to visit their chiropractor immediately afterward. It’s a spectacle of technique, grit, and alarming amounts of tiger balm.

The Call of the Mats

Now, why Vegas, you ask? Why not stick to local London competitions? Why not Swindon or, dare I say, Scunthorpe? Vegas adds a certain je ne sais quoi to the experience. Nothing screams “athletic peak” quite like leaving your match to find Elvis impersonators and slot machines greeting you in the hotel lobby. Plus, let’s face it—if you’re going to get choked unconscious in front of your family, you might as well do it somewhere glamorous.

My decision to compete was solidified after a few too many post-training beers and the realisation that the clock is ticking. I’m 44. That’s not old by normal standards, but in BJJ, where knees are held together by hope and fingers look like gnarled tree roots, it’s practically ancient. So, here I am, with a body that creaks more than my garden gate, embarking on this absurd yet thrilling journey.

Current State of Play

When I started training jiu-jitsu two days before turning 40, I said to myself that I didn’t want to cruise to black belt over 15 or 20 years. I must compete at least 3 times at each belt – the outcome of those competitions is less important to me, than actually having put my training to the test outside of the gym. So, I’ve competed three times as a white belt, and three times as a blue belt but since receiving my promotion to purple belt in December 2023, I haven’t yet been in a position to compete.

For most of this year (2024) I’ve struggled to maintain the bear minimum of training jiu-jitsu three times a week due to work and family commitments. Work mostly. So if anything, my skill level has deteriorated in comparison to the exponential improvement I was making just before my promotion.

I’m currently weighing in at 88kg, so an additional consideration has to be losing about 8kg. Not actually that hard if I could get myself to jiu-jitsu three or four times a week, on top of my morning cardio and resistance training sessions. About half of that weight is due to the holiday booze and other treats, which will all be knocked on the head in January.

The Inspirational 57-Year-Old

At a recent BJJ seminar, I met someone who truly changed my perspective. Let’s call him “Dave” (not his real name, because I didn’t ask for permission, and anonymity makes this story sound cooler – I will try a wrangle an interview out of him at some point). Dave is 57 years old, a Masters 6 competitor, and, frankly, an absolute legend. He stood there, a purple belt without the usual cauliflower ear to double as a trophy, talking about how he won his division at the Worlds last year.

Dave’s story was simple yet profound. He’d started BJJ around the same time as me (the pandemic has a lot to answer for!) after having dominated the judo scene for decades and switched to ultramarathon running throughout the lockdowns. A climbing enthusiast to boot (how’s that for grip training), this guy’s whole life was geared towards – by fate or design – making him a perfect athlete for this competition.

I had so many questions for him, but the seminar had to carry on and I decided I’d bug him at some other point! Meeting Dave made me realise that age is just a number—and so is the number of ibuprofen tablets you’ll need after training.

I’ve always thought that I would like to be done with competing by age 50, and then I can focus more on coaching with no regrets. That would give me just five more years to make my Vegas dream a reality. I will try and stick to my deadline – but if I need a bit longer, and I’m in half the shape that Dave is in, so be it! Win-win!

Balancing Life, Family, and BJJ

Of course, pursuing a dream like this doesn’t come without sacrifices. My family has been mostly supportive, although my wife did raise an eyebrow when I informed her that our summer holiday plans now involve me getting strangled by strangers in a Nevada convention centre. My children think it’s cool, but they’re at an age where anything involving violence is automatically interesting.

Time management is crucial. Between work, family, and training, I’ve become a master of squeezing activities into impossibly small windows. I’ve also become quite good at ignoring the judgemental looks of non-BJJ friends when I explain that yes, I do pay money to let people twist my limbs in unnatural directions.

Overcoming the Fear of Failure

Fear is a constant companion on this journey. Fear of losing, fear of injury, fear of looking like a prat in front of an international audience. But as many coaches have reminded me, fear is part of the process. If you’re not scared, you’re probably not challenging yourself enough. Or you’ve had too much whiskey.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned so far is that progress isn’t linear. Some days, I feel invincible. Other days, I’m tapping out to a white belt who’s barely learned to tie their belt. It’s humbling and frustrating, but also weirdly exhilarating. There’s something deeply satisfying about pushing yourself to the limit, even if the limit sometimes involves lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, and questioning your life choices.

The Road to Vegas

The journey to the World Master IBJJF Jiu-Jitsu Championship is still in its early stages, but I’m already learning so much. I’ve discovered that BJJ is as much about mental resilience as it is about physical skill. It’s about showing up, even when you’d rather stay in bed. It’s about pushing through discomfort and embracing the grind.

And, perhaps most importantly, it’s about the community. BJJ is a strange and wonderful world filled with people who will choke you one minute and then offer you a beer the next. It’s a sport that brings together people of all ages, backgrounds, and skill levels. It’s chaotic, beautiful, and utterly addictive.

Wrapping It Up (Like a Kimura)

So, here I am, 44 years old, with a dream that might be a bit ridiculous but is undeniably mine. The road ahead is long, and there will be challenges—both on and off the mats. But if Dave can do it, maybe, so can I. Maybe.

If nothing else, this journey is giving me stories to tell, lessons to learn, and muscles to grow. And who knows? Come August (this year? Or next? Or the one after that?), I might just step onto those Vegas mats and surprise myself. Or, at the very least, provide some entertainment for the crowd.

Stay tuned for the next instalment, where I’ll undoubtedly get caught in a knee on belly position, and have to apologise for the consequences of all of these Brussel sprouts and beer. It’s all part of the adventure.