
I know some guys who, until about 6 months ago, lived in a laundromat so that they could train Jiu-Jitsu as much as possible.
There’s even a documentary about them. You can watch it here.
While I don’t think I could ever do what my friends down at Pedigo Submission Fighting (PSF) have done, I find them incredibly inspiring. It’s crazy for me to compete against guys with this level of dedication to their Jiu-Jitsu.
But there’s a cost to everything.
Many of them are dirt poor. They can barely afford to pay for competitions, much less doctor’s appointments if they get injured, antibiotics if they get staph infections, or other basic necessities that you and I believe are essential for “a good life”.
But to them, this sacrifice is necessary for reaching their dreams of being champions in Jiu-Jitsu.
Whether you want to sleep on a mat in a laundromat or sleep on a fluffy bed in a warm apartment (like I do), there’s a lesson to be learned from these dedicated athletes. There’s a habit that separates them from the rest.
That habit is sacrifice, and learning to do it is the most important part of trying to be successful in anything.
You can have anything, but not everything.
The fact that I write and do Jiu-Jitsu professionally is a little bit different.
I compete against my friends from PSF (and I have wins over some of them), I travel the world teaching and training and doing seminars, and I also write my content on Medium and Substack and for my ghostwriting clients.
I do a lot of stuff, but in both of the things, I do, there are people who do much more. There are athletes who train harder than me because they don’t write. There are writers who write more than me because they’re not in the gym several times a day.
For me, all the work I put in on my goals puts a lot of strain on my personal life, my finances, and my relationships, but this isn’t unique. Many high-level athletes and performers experience this.
Sure, balance is important if you’re trying to be happy and content, but in the pursuit of success in a competitive world it’s important to know that you’re competing against people who don’t care much about balance. You’re competing against people who are willing to do whatever it takes to be the best.
There are levels to sacrifice.
For me, it’s anxiety-inducing that Jiu-Jitsu makes my personal life suffer and puts financial strain on me.
I honestly do surprisingly well, but I certainly could make more money faster if I wasn’t so insistent on grappling and writing professionally.
But some people are willing to go even further than that. Some people are willing to die to reach their goals. Some people are willing to sacrifice years of their life to be world champions this year.
Jiu-Jitsu, for example, has a steroid problem. There’s no drug testing, steroid use is quite common, and at the highest levels, you pretty much have to choose to juice yourself or resort to fighting with a physical disadvantage that can only really be made up with technique. In the Jiu-Jitsu community, if you’re not willing to take steroids, it’s not really seen as “honorable” — you can be peer pressured into it by friends and teammates.
The whole “honor and respect” thing in martial arts isn’t as true as you think it is. When you start competing for money, people start taking more and more extreme measures. They do as much as the rules say they can.
If you aren’t sacrificing, you will eventually lose to someone who is.
I don’t really think too much about the steroid thing because it would only get in my head. I try to just focus on being the best I can be.
I find that this makes the experience of being an athlete a lot better than constantly comparing myself to guys who look like superheroes year-round, have cardio for days, and never get injured.
However, this idea of sacrifice is bigger than just the Jiu-Jitsu mats. In all competitive aspects of life, sacrifice is a requirement for success.
If you want to be exceptional at one thing, you have to sacrifice the ability to do another. For example, my ankles and knees have seen a lot of wear and tear over the years of martial arts training, and as a result, things like playing basketball and soccer with my friends are completely out of the question. Sprinting leaves my ankles sore for days on end.
If I got hurt doing something that wasn’t my sport, I don’t know how I’d look at myself in the mirror.
Not a job, a calling.
I humor myself by saying that practicing/teaching grappling is “my calling”.
Whether it’s true or not is irrelevant, it’s all I do and think about these days. Apart from a few of my blog posts and my handful of ghostwriting articles every month, everything I do is Jiu-Jitsu related.
The first sport I truly threw myself into as a kid was wrestling, and I’ve done the same with Jiu-Jitsu. There have been a lot of sacrifices over the years, including my body, my money, friendships, and the ability to do other things. My lifestyle has been dramatically altered to do Jiu-Jitsu full-time.
For better and for worse, there have been plenty of things I’ve sacrificed — comfort being one of them.
“Putting lifestyle first is how you find a job — — not a calling.”―Paul Kalanithi
People romanticize the Jiu-Jitsu lifestyle on social media — they act like it’s all acai bowls, “shakas”, and shiny gold medals, but the reality is a bit less glamorous.
I think it’s more beautiful in real life, but it’s a bit more gritty, and a lot more painful. It’s harder than it looks.
So what do you really want?
If you sacrifice everything, you will lose yourself.
For some, this is a worthwhile price to pay for greatness.
A prime example of this is Socrates, who sacrificed his life for his moral principles and transformed Western thought in the process. Another example is the bodybuilders who likely died as a result of steroid use.
Was their sacrifice as noble?
Actions have consequences, and improvement requires sacrifice.
The only answer is to decide how much you are willing to give to a craft or a skill. How much success and glory do you want today, and can you accept that your actions might affect the way that you’re able to live tomorrow?
If I told you that you could be an Olympic gold medalist next year, but in the days after you got your medal, you’d lose your right hand and your girlfriend, would you still do it?
Great achievements require great sacrifices.
Up to a certain point, action today is done to build a better tomorrow. However, beyond that, extreme action today will sacrifice tomorrow.
Oh, and nothing is ever guaranteed.
So how much are you willing to give?
Closing Thoughts
To the people who are the best in the world in their particular fields, sacrifice is an obvious and essential aspect of success.
To people who know nothing of success, sacrifice is usually one of the first things that they’re missing. For me, quitting non-essential habits was the easiest way to take myself from average to one of the better athletes in my weight class in Jiu-Jitsu.
I still sacrifice things every day — relationships, sleep, time, short-term joy, and more — but these sacrifices are worth it to me for what Jiu-Jitsu (and writing) brings to my life. This isn’t me playing the victim, it’s just the reality of trying to get good at stuff.
“Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.” — Muhammad Ali
When I heard this quote, I thought Ali was talking about “suffering” through hard rounds and hard training sessions in the gym. Maybe he was, but I find in my life that there are more sacrifices than just feeling like shit and licking my chops during training sessions.
There are consequences for suffering and sacrifice.
Only you can decide if they’re worth it.
More from this week (another article coming out tomorrow morning!):
A podcast I was on last week:
Another article from this week:
Thanks for reading another issue of The Grappler’s Diary. If you enjoyed this post, share it with friends!
One of the best essays you’ve written. I definitely get it and have struggled with the dilemma of balancing my goals in BJJ with family and financial obligations. Keep up the great work.