A Piece Of My Heart
Being a competitive athlete is an incredibly selfish thing to do.
I have been thinking about this a lot during the daily hour-long drives to and from jiu jitsu class that have consumed so much time on my current trip to the United States. Because it feels very selfish to tell close friends and family members, who I rarely get to see because I live on the other side of the Atlantic, that I don’t have time to see them — when I can find three hours a day to practice jiu jitsu.
And that is just my skills training. I am also making time for mobility, strength, and cardio training.
It’s like having a “little more than a half-time” job.
And of course, there is my actual job. Like many people, I can’t just take a month off work. I run an online business helping Jews lose weight, get strong, and regain their flexibility.
So I also have to make time for messages, exercise programming, Zoom calls, etc.
If I weren’t in training camp, I could be more reasonable with my exercise, which would make it easier to balance work and social time.
When my coaching clients are traveling, I usually recommend they scale back their fitness and enjoy their trip. Having the energy and strength to enjoy real-life experiences is a benefit of fitness, and trips are the perfect opportunity to engage with many elements of life you love and enjoy.
Cutting back on your training while traveling doesn’t make a difference over the long term for most goals, as long as you are consistent at home.
I usually follow this advice myself and take it easy on exercise while I am traveling.
But I’m six weeks out from my first international competition, representing Israel, at the SJJIF World Jiu-Jitsu Championships in Japan. I can’t cut back on my training; I need to increase it. I can’t do home bodyweight workouts or even go to the closest gym; I need a competitive environment with real athletes to sharpen my skills.
Training to win a world championship requires a different level of investment. It is so much more than blood, sweat, and tears. It’s also the time and the money. Blowing off friends and family for long, lonely car drives to play games with other athletes. Registration fees, transportation, and lodging.
I can only imagine what plane flights from Israel to Japan and back around Rosh Hashana will cost. And I haven’t even begun to think about lodging. I’ve been planning this trip to the US, and because life has taken the opportunity to dogpile me, we also happen to be moving from our apartment into a house.
I’ve paid my registration fees and see my name on the website, but the only other thing I have figured out is that I will probably end up covering all the expenses personally. This isn’t the Olympics, the NFL or the NBA; there are no sponsors, and even if I win, there is no cash prize.
Everything I put into this journey will simply evaporate, and I will be left with nothing except memories, pictures, videos, and בע״ה a small piece of metal colored gold.
And for some strange reason, acting in this selfish, illogical way stirs people’s souls. The excitement that flashes into people’s eyes when I tell them what I’m doing still shocks me. The pride and joy pouring out of people’s hearts when they hear me say, “I’m training for world championships,” is such a beautiful gift to bring into the world.
Pride and joy are something Israel and the Jewish people desperately need, because we are not whole. A piece of our heart was torn out, and it remains missing. We cannot forget the missing worlds who are still part of the beating heart of the Jewish people.
Which is why I want to use this journey to bring awareness to the plight of my wife’s third cousin, Tamir Nimrodi, who was taken captive by Hamas terrorists on October 7, 2023.
Every day you are in my prayers.
This one’s for you, my brother.
