Learning to Walk Again With Martial Arts

"Why is BJJ easier than my stand-up fighting art?" This was a question proposed when we were taking submissions for a podcast. Truth be told, this question out of all, made me uncomfortable. I assumed it would be misconstrued by the internet tigers, and they would all pounce. “What do you mean BJJ is easy!?!?!” This question, out of all of them though, really stood out to me.

It made me think about something I hadn't previously considered. Something that was clearly on the mind of more than one of my students who train multiple fighting modalities. At first, I opted not to address this question, even though I left it on the list. I needed more time to think about it. To ponder the implications. It wasn't until a few months later that I had formulated a decent answer and can now commit to writing it out. The question:

“Why is it so difficult to get the stand-up game compared to BJJ?” Let's break it down by each element and hopefully make some sense of it. BJJ is not easy, and I know that was never the intent of the questioner, but it is certainly easier than learning stand-up fighting.

Crawl. Walk. Run.

When fighters get frustrated with footwork, I ask them - "Did you walk out of the womb?" A rhetorical question, to set up the greater lesson - First we laid on our back kicking our legs. Then we laid on our belly for a while doing push-ups. Next we started to crawl. Then we started to use our arms to climb, and stand. Once our legs gained strength, we began to take our first steps.

After falling quite a few times, we got the walking thing down. Later we started to run. Fast forward to here and now. We are learning to walk all over again, in a way that makes us effective boxers. But rather than laying there kicking our legs for a while, we are insisting we should be able to run right away. Therein lies the problem.

You Monkey!

At our roots we are primates. Our instinctive method of striking is large, powerful swings that maximize our anatomical structure. This creates power, but leaves little in the way of protection.

In martial arts (boxing, kickboxing, karate, etc.), we learn a new way of striking. Ways completely counter to our instincts, and some that will build off of them. These new methods we learn can provide power while simultaneously offering a guard for helping to protect our own head in a fight.

Striking seems simple from the outside. I believe that is why I see so many people baffled by the amount of time it takes to get good at it.

I read a blog post from Dan Djurdjevic yesterday speaking about 'what it means to be a beginner' (see his post here). In his article he brought up boxing, and the amount of time before a boxing coach thinks you are moderately skilled at striking. This was new to me as I am not in the western boxing circuit that focuses solely on striking (no kicks, takedowns, elbows, or knees like mantis boxing). Dan claimed, 4 years for proficiency. That coaches do not consider you close to stepping into a ring with a pro-fighter until much later. This is a martial art modality built around 'STRIKING AND FOOTWORK ONLY'. Yet four years of training before an amateur level is achieved by the average person.

It is healthy to have realistic expectations. A heavy bag routine a few days/week can help increase our striking game and cut down on the mistakes we make. Remember, it's about building motor function. The more we punch, the easier it becomes to tweak and fix.

Building Blocks

We may have come with a natural affinity for striking, even if a coach tells us it is the wrong way to fight. But when it comes to blocking, we will definitely have more limitations to proficiency. Our natural instincts tell us to shield up, turn into a ball, or flail wildly.

When we enter martial arts, these motions are new, and we have to refine and work on them. Which includes technical elements, structure, timing, position. The training time for this can be fairly quick with proper partner training, but is not enough by itself. Unfortunately we can't stand there and block all day long. Eventually they will find a hole in our defense.

Your 'Other' Left Foot

‘Soooooo…we thought we knew how to walk...?’ Since we spend a large part of our life moving around on our feet, you'd think footwork would be a given. Nope. On the contrary, building a proper stance and then learning how to move in that stance, takes a lot of repetition for it to become second nature. Until we achieve said proficiency, we will have holes in our game that are easy to capitalize on for a moderately skilled opponent.

Shuffling, stepping, circling, angling, cross circle steps, spin outs, change steps, are a lot of meat on the table. In order to polish these, we'll need to spend time working it out. The nice thing is, we don't NEED a partner to practice footwork. Just a small open space.

Just for Kicks

As if all the aforementioned challenges were not enough, now we're thinking we should be able to throw kicks with ease. To go from a bi-ped day in and day out, to now standing on one leg while breathing, relaxing, and kicking someone hard enough to make them think twice about attacking us again. This one is definitely outside the normal realm of human motion and fighting instincts.

Kicking is going to be a skill that takes on a focus on it's own. There are entire martial arts built around this one modality (see tae kwon do). As with striking, if we have a bag we can beat on, it will do leaps and bounds to help us get our kicking to a decent skill level. Once we have the repetition, and we aren't falling on our ass every time we lift one leg off the ground, then we can grab a partner and focus on targeting, plus timing.

Kicks expend more energy, and create bigger liabilities (depending on the type of kick). Wasting them on targets that are not open can bleed out our endurance, and leave us sucking wind. Knowing when and where to throw the kick is the key to the leg game.

Throwdown!

Next on our list is another completely foreign skill that we did not come pre-packaged with. Beyond the basic charge and tackle, throwing another human being is an art form. Also, as we saw with kicking, evidenced by the fact that there are entire martial arts styles built around this pillar as well. Styles such as Shuai Jiao, and Judo. Both comprised of techniques not inherent to human instinct.

Learning the technique is one thing; building the timing for the perfect execution is a highly advanced skill that requires years of practice and sparring.

Locked Up

Joint locks (Chin Na) are another highly technical aspect of martial arts. They require a certain finesse to be effective and become proficient in. There are tons of limb locks out there, but knowing how, when, and on who we can use them is sometimes confusing, and almost mythical. Combine this with timing these off a punch, or grab, and the difficulty increases exponentially.

"Repetition is the mother of all skill." This is the truth with joint locks especially. The more we train them, the better we will get, and the more sensitivity we will have to make adjustments when things change on the fly. Check out Size Matters for more on the intricacies of joint locks and why they usually do not work.

Hooked Up

Once the range changes, we now have to deal with the clinch and getting tied up with hooks. Learning to escape and dominate the clinch, as well as throwing elbow strikes, and knee strikes, is yet another skill we throw in the mix. Like kicking and punching before, practicing these on a heavy bag, or throwing dummy can help knock off some of the repetition and get our skills kick started, but we'll definitely need to apply it with a partner to get the full benefit.

So, "Why is BJJ easy?"

Part of my discomfort with this question was, as I said in the beginning, that I knew it would be misconstrued. I understood what the individual really meant to say, but I was afraid others might take it as "BJJ is EASY!?!?! Say, What?!?!?" That was not the implication in the question.

BJJ is not easy, and the person asking the question struggled plenty with that training as well. The elements of the question have merit though. Why does it seem easier to become skilled in BJJ than with stand-up arts?

Brazilian jiu-jitsu, at least most sport BJJ, is heavily focused on the ground game. That means we are working on a single plane. Our body weight is fully supported across a wider surface than two feet can come close to attaining. This allows for ease of movement with our arms and legs available to focus on attack, and defense, rather than balance, mobility, striking, kicking, defense, and grappling all at once.

Additionally, unlike all the items we listed in stand-up that have nothing to do with our instincts - jiu-jitsu is much akin to our natural instinctive body movements, and innate self-defense skills. Like tiger cubs that practice sparring before leaving the safety of their mother, so to do we practice fighting when we are young, pliable, and less likely to hurt one another, and ourselves. We can see this when we watch untrained siblings go at one another in the living room of our home. They have a natural inclination towards wrestling, grappling and that style of movement. If they had fur and tails we’d think they were monkeys.

We Don't Need Another Hero

We all have hero's we see in films, or in the ring/cage. We see people we admire for their skills. But that's it, we see the results. The results of their effort. What we do not see, is the countless hours of training they had to go through to get there. The blood, sweat, tears; the pain, the setbacks, the injuries.

Many people find Bruce Lee to be an inspiration. There exists a seemingly invisible effort behind his movements, joined by every other icon we may have - Mike Tyson, Muhammad Ali, Rhonda Rousey, Holly Holm, etc. When we see them, we see them in their prime, or entering their prime. We see them after years/decades of training, practicing, sweating, sacrificing. 

There is no 'short cut' to gaining "mad skillz". We have to do the work. In order to do the work, we have to enjoy the art, the people we train with, and stay focused on our goals. If we do not enjoy the process, then we need to vacate the space and find another sport we enjoy.

The Sum of All Parts

So in summary, if we look at the base elements I listed above, we can quickly see how things can seem overwhelming and hard to accomplish. It's normal. Any skill we wish to achieve in life, takes time to master.

On top of each individual component of stand-up fighting being an art in and of itself, trying to tie all the pieces together while our brain is in the early stages of learning, is thrilling, and yet seemingly insurmountable at times. Push through this and we will be rewarded.

When we walk into a stand-up martial art like mantis boxing, at it's essence - we are being told that we do not know how to walk, talk (lingo/jargon), punch, kick, grapple, or throw. We are starting fresh. This is a great time, and wonderful feeling that we’ll one day miss when we are more experience. After a few months, when the newness wears off, we start to feel the deck is stacked against us. Things we took for granted in everyday life, are now being retrained, and in the interim, someone else is taking advantage of our newly realized deficiencies. This can be overwhelming, humbling, and at times seem unattainable. It isn’t.

Take a deep breath, relax, and focus on enjoying the process, the people we train with, and have fun with learning. If we think in terms of belts/time, or years to mastery, we will forget why we started doing this in the first place. We’ll talk ourselves out of the arts altogether. Live in the moment. Enjoy the journey.

Thank you Max Kotchouro for some of the photos and video.