What Three Years on the BJJ Mat Have Taught Me

Sometimes the skill that helps you survive one stage of life is the very skill you have to move beyond to reach the next.

I joined Meraki Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu on October 2, 2023.

By the time you’re reading this, I’ve been training there fairly consistently for just over three years.

And I’ve learned something about myself I wasn’t expecting.

I’ve gotten pretty good at surviving.

Not winning. Not dominating. Not submitting everybody who gets in my way.

Surviving.

And until recently, I thought that was a pretty significant accomplishment.

I still do.

But I’m beginning to understand something else.

Survival is an accomplishment. It just isn’t necessarily the destination.

Sometimes the skills that carry you through a hard season are the ones you have to move beyond if you want to keep growing.

I found that out on the mat. But the older I get, the more I think it applies to just about everything else we do.

Our work. Our finances. Our relationships. Our health. And especially the way we lead ourselves through life.

Three Years of Getting My Ass Kicked

I’ve studied martial arts for most of my adult life.

I earned my second-degree black belt in Hapkido, studied other martial arts, and spent decades learning about movement, timing, distance, leverage, and personal development.

So when I walked into Meraki, I wasn’t new to martial arts.

Brazilian jiu-jitsu was a different animal anyway.

There’s something wonderfully humbling about having another human being on top of you, applying pressure, controlling your movement, and systematically removing your options.

Especially when they’re younger, bigger, stronger, or more experienced.

Sometimes all four.

You can understand leverage intellectually. You can know the theory of positioning. You can have decades of martial arts behind you. None of that guarantees you can escape mount when somebody who knows what they’re doing is determined to keep you there.

You discover the difference between knowing something and being able to do it.

And for much of my time at Meraki, my goal during a five-minute round was simple.

Don’t get submitted.

If I survived the round without tapping, that felt like a win.

At the beginning, sometimes it was.

Stage One: Learning to Survive

Bad positions used to be extremely uncomfortable.

Getting mounted. Being pinned under side control. Having somebody flatten me out, isolate my arms, and put their weight across my chest.

There was physical pressure. There was also psychological pressure.

The feeling of being trapped. The frustration of not knowing what to do. The fear of making it worse.

I’d tense muscles that didn’t need tensing. I’d hold my breath or breathe too shallowly. I’d burn energy struggling in directions that were never going to work.

Then I’d make the mistake my training partner was waiting for.

Tap. Start again.

Over time, something changed.

I learned to frame. To protect my neck and arms. To keep my structure. To breathe under pressure. To recognize an immediate threat without treating every uncomfortable moment as an emergency.

I got more patient. More aware. Less frantic.

Being in a bad position doesn’t mean you have to panic.

Sometimes the first victory is staying calm enough to see what’s actually happening.

That lesson travels well beyond the mat.

Think about the first time you faced a serious challenge at work. Or a financial stretch. Or a family situation that felt like it was swallowing you whole. When everything is overwhelming, your first objective might simply be getting through the day without making things worse.

You learn to manage your emotions. Protect what matters. Conserve energy. Tell the difference between what you control and what you don’t.

Those are real skills, and I don’t want to minimize them. Never underestimate what it takes to survive a hard season.

But eventually, if circumstances allow, another question shows up.

Am I still surviving because I need to, or because I’ve gotten comfortable doing nothing else?

Five Minutes Without Tapping

A few weeks ago, I had a round that showed me where I actually am.

I was rolling with somebody with considerably more experience than me. In the past, this partner had submitted me three, four, sometimes five times in a five-minute round.

That’s a lot of tapping.

This time, something different happened.

Five minutes went by. No submissions.

Before you picture a dramatic comeback, let me be clear about what didn’t happen.

I didn’t dominate. I didn’t turn into a submission machine. I didn’t sweep this person, take their back, and rain down beautiful attacks.

They were still working their game.

I was still trying to survive.

But my frames were better. My grips were better. My defense was smarter. I wasn’t handing over easy submissions.

I even tried attacking once or twice. Neither attempt amounted to much.

But they were attempts.

And I recognized something.

I hadn’t learned how to beat this person. I’d learned how to become harder to beat.

That’s real progress. It doesn’t make a highlight reel, but to somebody who knows where he started, it means something.

Here’s the catch.

Becoming harder to beat doesn’t mean you’ve learned how to win.

When Survival Gets Too Comfortable

Recently, I talked with two purple belts and a black belt about my rolling.

They told me something I hadn’t fully seen.

I was giving up position too easily.

I thought about it, and they were right.

I’ve become reasonably comfortable surviving in bad positions. Comfortable enough that I don’t fight hard enough to avoid getting there.

If somebody starts passing my guard, I might concede the pass and settle into defending side control. If I’m losing a position, I might drop straight into my survival habits instead of doing everything I reasonably can to keep what I already have.

Meaning I’ve gotten comfortable with the consequences of giving up ground.

Now, accepting a position is sometimes the right call. If the alternative is exposing yourself to a serious injury or a submission, giving something up can be judgment, not weakness. Defense requires decisions.

But when the concession becomes automatic instead of deliberate, you’ve found something worth looking at.

I’ve gotten comfortable being uncomfortable.

That’s usually presented as a wonderful lesson about personal growth. And it is.

Until being comfortable with difficulty becomes an excuse to stay put.

I’ve learned to survive. My next job is learning to stop settling for survival.

Stage Two: Learning to Escape

That’s where I am now.

Escaping.

Not tolerating a bad position. Not protecting myself while somebody controls me. Actually creating a way out.

And I want to be straight with you.

I’m not consistently escaping experienced training partners yet. Against peers, I’m still working on it. Against purple belts, brown belts, and black belts, it’s considerably harder.

I can recognize some of the problems. I know some of the techniques. But knowing an escape and doing it against somebody who’s resisting are two different things.

I need better timing. Better positioning. Better movement. Better recognition of the moment.

And a lot more practice.

At least I know what I’m working toward.

Now look at your own life.

Maybe you’ve gotten excellent at tolerating a job that drains you. You know how to work around the difficult supervisor. You can handle the bad days without losing your temper.

But what would escaping actually mean?

Maybe learning a new skill. Building enough savings to have options. Developing professional relationships. Having one hard conversation. Applying somewhere else. Or building something of your own.

Sometimes escaping isn’t dramatic. Sometimes it’s a series of small preparations that gradually create an opening.

Escaping starts when you stop asking only, “How do I endure this?” and start asking, “What would change it?”

Not every difficult situation can be left right away. Real obligations and constraints matter. But if there’s a path forward, surviving doesn’t have to be the permanent strategy.

Stage Three: Improving Your Position

This is where I don’t have consistent competence yet.

Improving position.

Getting out of trouble isn’t enough. If I escape mount and land under side control, I’ve changed my circumstances without improving them much.

The next goal is establishing something better. Keeping guard. Recovering guard. Passing guard. Getting to side control. Taking the back. Controlling the exchange instead of reacting to it.

I’m not doing that consistently against resisting peers or higher belts.

That’s just where I am.

But the distinction matters.

Escaping gets you out of trouble. Improving position creates opportunity.

Same principle outside the gym.

You leave the job you hate. That’s an escape. But do you have the skills, resources, and clarity to land somewhere better?

You pay off the credit card. That’s progress. But have you changed what put you in debt?

You set a boundary in a relationship. Good. Are you also building the communication skills to develop healthier relationships?

Getting away from a problem and building something better are related accomplishments. They’re not the same one.

One gives you breathing room. The other gives you a foundation.

And the stronger your position, the more choices you generally have.

Stage Four: Dominating Your Own Game

Eventually, I want to reach another level on the mat.

Not just surviving. Not just escaping. Not just improving position.

Being able to create real offensive opportunities and finish submissions against people who are resisting me.

Right now, that doesn’t happen consistently against my peers or anyone more experienced. If somebody gives me an opening, I might be able to use it.

But capitalizing on an opening somebody hands you isn’t the same as being able to create one yourself.

That’s the level I’m working toward.

And when I say dominating in life, I don’t mean controlling other people.

I mean developing enough competence, confidence, and judgment to be effective in your own circumstances. Taking responsibility. Making decisions instead of endlessly reacting. Creating opportunities instead of waiting to be given one. Leading yourself. And when it fits, helping other people become more capable too.

Take money. First you’re surviving from check to check. Then you build enough stability to get out of the constant crisis. Next you build savings, skills, or assets that improve your position. Eventually, you may have enough independence to make decisions based on your values instead of your immediate needs.

You’re not reacting to every expense anymore. You have options.

Same with a career. First you’re trying not to screw up. Then you can handle the job. Then you’re genuinely competent. Eventually, you might have enough mastery to take initiative, solve hard problems, mentor somebody, and help lead.

You don’t become a badass by intimidating people.

You become a badass by being able to handle difficult situations and having the judgment to know what to do with that ability.

That’s the leadership I care about.

From Resilience to Antifragility

This week’s book in the Leader’s Library is Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s Antifragile.

One idea I find useful is his distinction between fragile things, robust things, and things that gain from certain kinds of stress and disorder.

Fragile things break. Robust things withstand pressure. Antifragile systems can improve through appropriate challenges and uncertainty.

But we need to be careful with that idea.

Pressure doesn’t automatically make anybody stronger. Anyone who’s trained seriously knows you can get hurt if the load exceeds what your body can safely handle. And you can spend years enduring the same difficulty without getting much better at handling it.

What matters is what happens around the pressure.

Learning. Adjusting. Recovering. Trying again. Noticing what stopped working. Building something new.

The mat has taught me how to survive pressure. Next, I want to learn how to use what it’s teaching me.

Which is a worthwhile question for the rest of us too.

Are your difficulties just something you’re enduring, or are they teaching you how to build a better future?

Your Next Position Matters More Than Your Current One

After just over three years at Meraki, I don’t have a highlight reel of dominating everybody.

I’m a blue belt. I’ve gotten harder to submit. I’m more comfortable under pressure. My defensive awareness has improved. I’m working on escapes. And I have plenty of work left on improving position and creating submissions against people who can stop me.

I could focus entirely on how far I still have to go.

Or I could notice something else.

I know where I am. I know what I’ve developed. I know what isn’t working. And I know what I need to practice next.

That’s a pretty good place to be.

Progress isn’t a straight line anyway. Some days I feel like I learned something. Other days somebody reminds me how much I don’t know.

That’s the process.

And I suspect your life works about the same way.

Maybe you’re already a survivor. Maybe you’ve spent years dealing with things other people know nothing about. Maybe you’ve gotten remarkably good at enduring stress, absorbing setbacks, and holding your responsibilities together.

Give yourself credit for that. It’s not nothing.

But don’t confuse surviving with arriving.

There may be another level available to you.

And another after that.

The point isn’t to dominate everybody around you. It’s to become somebody who can increasingly direct their own life, meet hard things intelligently, and help others do the same.

Survive when you have to. Escape when you can. Improve your position whenever possible. Then build the mastery to create the results that actually matter to you.

That’s what my first three years at Meraki have taught me.

And I’m still learning it.

⚔️ Dojo Drill: What’s Your Next Position?

Pick one part of your life where you’re stuck, struggling, or just going through the motions.

Career. Finances. Relationships. Health. Personal development. Something else that matters.

Now work through four questions.

1. Survive — What have you learned to endure?

What used to overwhelm you that you can now handle? What habits, strengths, or coping skills got you this far?

Give yourself credit for them. Then ask whether you’re tolerating circumstances that could actually be improved.

2. Escape — What do you need to stop accepting?

Is there a situation you could start changing? What skill, conversation, resource, or support would create an opening?

Don’t assume it takes a dramatic move. Sometimes the first escape is just making enough room to choose differently.

3. Improve position — What would actually make your life better?

Don’t settle for getting out of trouble. What stronger position could you build? What habits, relationships, capabilities, savings, or opportunities would leave you somewhere better in six months?

What could you start on this week?

4. Dominate — What would mastery look like for you?

What would it mean to stop reacting and start creating results? Where could you take more responsibility? What capability would let you act with more confidence and independence?

And how could your progress eventually help somebody else?

You don’t have to be the best in the world. You don’t have to do all of it tomorrow. And you don’t have to be ashamed of the survival skills that got you here.

They served a purpose. Maybe they still do.

Just remember.

The skill that saved you yesterday may not be the skill that grows you tomorrow.

Figure out your next position.

Then start working toward it.

📚 From the Leader’s Library

​Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder — Nassim Nicholas Taleb​

Why?

Most people try to build a life that can withstand adversity, but Taleb challenges us to go further: build a life that actually grows stronger through challenges, uncertainty, and change.

Antifragile explores how creating options, reducing unnecessary dependencies, and learning from manageable setbacks can help us thrive rather than merely survive. It’s a powerful reminder that personal leadership isn’t about controlling everything life throws at us—it’s about becoming more capable, adaptable, and prepared for whatever comes next.