That’s me at Brazilian jiu-jitsu. I’m the one on top.
I dove into a metaphorical shark tank and emerged relatively unscathed.
In jiu-jitsu, this is an endurance exercise. One person stands in the middle. Over the course of 5-6 minutes, each person steps in and rolls with whoever starts in the middle. At the end of each minute, a new sparring partner tags in and starts where the last person left off.
No broken bones and I held my own. I was the lowest-ranked belt in the group, so slightly intimidated. Then again, I’m never one to shy away from a challenge.
What is important is that, if not for my husband, I would’ve stayed home and stewed. My Thanksgiving was difficult, given my present frame of mind and my parents’ collective health issues. Michael, knowing I had the potential to curl onto the couch into a fetal position and weep, asked me to come to open mat. It got me out of the house and gave me an amazing workout (pushing a person twice your size off of you is awesome in itself).
While sometimes I wonder why I can’t catch a break in certain areas of my existence, the one place I am lucky is in my husband. He is my perfect partner. He loves me unconditionally and with no judgment of my past or my future goals.
(my husband is the one on the left)