So I had the opportunity to attend a seminar today put on by Rhalan Gracie.  If you didn’t know, he’s the son of Relson Gracie, which makes him heir to the throne of Gracie awesomeness.  During the course of the seminar, I learned that being fat makes it harder for people to do practically anything against you.  “Yeah, go ahead.  Wrap your arms around me.  Ha ha ha ha.”  That was me.

I also had the opportunity to choke a few people, which is relatively rare for a white belt, even if they did have to let me because it was a seminar.  I still felt powerful in a “Fist of Goodness” sort of way:

Believe it or not, my neck is actually too fat for people to apply a proper rear naked choke to me.  I don’t know whether to be relieved or shamed.  I do know that I am no longer the newest white belt in the building.  There was a new guy tonight.  I actually got to give some advice.  I was all like:

“Dang, homie.  Don’t let him do you like that.”

“That thing you just did, don’t do that.”

“Just tap.  It’s already over.”

“It’s hard out here for a shrimp.”

“Naw, you supposed to AVOID the armbar.”

You know, really good, actionable advice from the vast archive of Jiu Jitsu wisdom that I have acquired in my five lessons.  Also, in other news, Mr. Smiley managed to find a Gi that fits me.  I’m pretty sure he stole several kids gis and stitched them together, owing from the fact that I have a spare arm hole in the center of my back, but I digress.  At least I don’t look like I stole my kid brothers gi anymore.  It’s a karate gi, but that doesn’t seem to stop people from using the lapels to choke me.

And then, after two hours of great exercise, a sensible lunch, and careful attention to my calorie count, I stopped at Checkers on the way home.  I didn’t plan it.  It just happened.  It’s like I was sucked into a swirling vortex of hunger and just appeared at the speaker box with the big, bright, delicious-looking signage of large burgers.  I swear, my car auto-piloted itself right to the window.  It was like little burger gremlins were working the pedals and the steering wheel.  They were all like “Oh no!  He lost a pound!  We need a burger, stat!”

Advertisements