It's been two years to the day since I started at Ronin Athletics. With time off due to injuries, surgeries, vacations, tattoos and whatever else along the way, I've been training about 19-20 months now, but I officially started at my gym on October 4th, 2011 and it's been a great second home ever since. When I stepped onto the mats that Tuesday night, I sure as hell never imagined it would become such a big part of my life, or that I'd still be there two years later.

When I first started training, I did almost entirely nogi grappling. Minimal kickboxing, no fancy outfits...I only picked up a cheap blue Fuji and began to grudgingly do one of the gi classes after a few months of being hassled into it. At the time, I vehemently insisted that gi "just wasn't my thing" and was therefore totally unconcerned with the whole concept of ranks and belts. HAH! The innocence of newbies. I don't know exactly when things changed, but somewhere along the way I became all about the gi (yes, Liz was super smug about it) and kicked up my efforts to really focus on the details, improve my technique and actively work towards my blue belt.

In a ramble inspired by Shark Girl's hilarious entry from a while back, as well as a ridiculous number of childish blog posts and forum threads either about how girls shouldn't grapple because it's "not natural" or about how it makes some guys so very uncomfortable to roll with females (ZOMG cooties!! Girl parts!! Wherever shall I put my hands??), I'd like to take a moment to address the matter of having two X chromosomes in a "guy's sport." I actually wrote most of this about 4 months after I started training and never published it, but with the influx of new female athletes at Ronin lately, I figure the subject has become quite relevant.

No, I've never been super feminine in the traditional sense...I'm definitely a tomboy. I like my sweatpants, t-shirts and beat-up sneakers. I loathe makeup and dresses and diamond earrings. I also refuse to tolerate brainless chicks who act totally incompetent, relying on men for everything like helpless ditzes who can't lift their own Prada bags. That said, I do absolutely love fluffy animals, bright colors and big strong boyfriends. I'm willing to jump guys twice my size if they're bothering a friend and can handle getting my ass kicked as a result, but I can also be fun and silly and totally adorable (really, I know it's hard to believe). So where does that leave me when it comes to something like grappling?

Well...I turned 29 earlier this week and have officially been training MMA for almost a year and a half. I think it's a good sign that I still love it (and my gym and teammates) as much as ever. And although in many ways it feels like business as usual, it's strange to realize how much has changed.

For example, I am no longer "the newbie." It's hard to accept, because there are so many people with so much more experience, yet it turns out there are in fact others who have far less experience than I do, and it's my turn to help them and to put up with all of the newbie mistakes that I used to make. It's also my responsibility to recognize the mistakes that I'm making now and to actively strive to improve myself in those areas, because the whole "I just started, so I have no idea what I'm doing" excuse just doesn't fly anymore.

I know I've dropped off the map for a while when it comes to maintaining my blog, but in my defense I'm at the gym 4-5 times a week and it's hard to find time to come home and then write about it. I didn't mean to disappear either but finding a happy balance has never been my forte.

Luckily for all of you, I have new things to write about. For example, I am now a 4-stripe white belt and have long since been converted to primarily training with the gi (remember how I once insisted that I'd never EVER be into gi, because nogi was "the shit?"...yeah, I'm over that phase; give me a gi). I will write more about all that soon but in the meantime, I wanted to address an irritating article that I read by a black belt instructor in faraway Idaho.

The article, which has received major backlash due to its blatant sexism, is titled "Can Women Really Handle Brazilian Jiu Jitsu?" and one of the saddest things about it is that its author doesn't even seem to realize how chauvinistic he actually is. I love my gym and the people I train with so much, and am so comfortable there, that I constantly forget there are gyms run by people who just don't "get it" when it comes to women grappling...or doing any contact sport for that matter.

There seem to be tons of debates about coed grappling, so I thought I'd add my two cents.

For the guys... (based on issues discussed on the interwebs)

1) Don't assume that because I'm a girl, I'm taking BJJ for self defense. I'm not. Like many guys, I'm doing it because it's good exercise and it's fun rolling around like tiger cubs on crack.

2) If I'm training with a guy my size, he should be training exactly the same as he would with any guy his own height, weight and experience level. If I'm working with a much bigger or more experienced guy (which is usually the case), he should roll the same as he would with any guy my size and level (ie. don't just spazz and squash but do work your technique). If something hurts, I'll tap, end of story.

3) I do not care if you grab or push on the boobs (ie. harness grip) or other "questionable" areas. Don't be afraid to get in there and use your weight. This is BJJ, shit happens and is often necessary to finish a move. I'm not going to be all oh fuck u perv! any more than you would flip out on another guy for using the same techniques. I couldn't care less where your hands go while rolling or drilling. It's a close contact sport. If I was uncomfortable with having big sweaty guys all over me, I'd be doing tennis or something, and so would you. It's only awkward if you make it.

After much consideration, I've decided that I'm most definitely not a fan of "King of the Hill," which we often close out the Wednesday night class with. Why? Well, because I seem to be the only white belt in that class right now, which means that I last about 5-10 seconds before some blue, purple or brown belt flips me onto my head and boots me to the back of the line. Again and again.

Aside from the normally pitiful finish to the night, Wednesdays are still among my favorites. Last week, I ended up doing a warmup roll with Spike which, considering he's the biggest guy at the gym, was not so much a "warmup" as a OMG, can't breathe, so tired...wait, we still have a whole class left?! kind of roll. Afterwards, Carlo brought everyone together to demonstrate the first technique, which involved this complicated flipping and rolling of your partner straight over your face. When we broke to practice the move, Spike came over all motivated and enthusiastic, saying "Okay, let's do it!" I gave him the look - you know, the bitch, u out ur damn mind?! look - and paired up with Liz instead. Spike looked all let down that his warmup buddy had abandoned him, but considering I had enough trouble pulling off the move on Liz, it was indisputably the best decision for us both.

Oh lawdy, I've been reborn! After nearly a month of spiraling into sin, I've had almost a month of good, hard training to balance it out and am once more feeling great and on the road to healthy lifestyle salvation.

I've also been doing a lot more conditioning work lately since, as much as I love grappling and as much as it makes me sweat, the standup stuff kicks your ass into shape like nothing else. Saturday morning kickboxing has become a routine for me now. It's a smaller, more informal class than the weekday sessions but just as intense. Once, when Dom was teaching, I partnered up with a tall, lanky youngster that I've decided to call Kicker. The reason for this is that he decided - I'm still not clear on why - that he did not care to wear shin pads like everyone else, and spent the whole class kicking the same spot on my thigh with his bony shins...quite hard. I didn't want to be one of those whiny partners that bitches and moans about being too rough, but after a while it really started to hurt and I started to get irritated. So I began kicking him extra hard in return. He's a nice kid and we get along just fine, but I have some anger management issues and very low patience levels so I'm guessing we both went home with giant black and blue patches covering our legs that day. In retrospect, I probably could've handled it better, but what's the point of doing MMA if you can't get a little violent sometimes?

Last Monday, class was running into open mat as usual. Christian had me jump in to drill escapes from mount with The Kid and even though I only caught the last 10 minutes, I was able to work up a sweat. When class ended, Brickling came over and seemed oddly determined to roll with me. I'm not sure why...maybe because I finally gave him a nickname here. At any rate, roll we did, for a damn long time. I'm not sure how much he gets out of it though, since he's insanely strong for such a short guy and has a wrestling background. He just kept tapping me out while I swore incessantly, but we had a good time.

I turned 28 at the beginning of this month and for the first time in years, I'm down to 137 lbs and fitting into clothes that I'd given up all hope on long ago. It's an amazing feeling and I'm more inspired now than ever to keep at it.

A few weeks ago, I went to Rocky's weekend conditioning class, which I normally avoid because it makes me want to throw up (a few people actually have in the past...seriously, into the trash can near the door...one of them twice in an hour). Personally, I haven't built up the proper endurance to survive it yet and it nearly killed me. I was also thoroughly shamed at one point when we lined up for a drill that the other women (there are two ladies who come in just for the conditioning class once a week) made look so easy, and one of these chicks is a total stick. I was watching them do it and thinking to myself pfft...I'll make them look silly. But when my turn came, I couldn't do it. AT ALL. Everyone was extremely encouraging though, and I eventually made it through the class with a lot of bitching, moaning and a sacrilegious amount of swearing.

Well...not really, but at least I'm moving in the right direction. In the grand scheme of things, I still know nothing. I'm a total newb. And I still spend half the time feeling like WTF am I doing? But the other half of the time, I'm slowly learning in a way that's becoming more noticeable to me on an individual level. I think I'm more aware of my own improvements now instead of only recognizing the flaws (and believe me, those are endless). People are also challenging me more now and adjusting their game, which I'm assuming is a good sign. At one point, I rolled with Isley after class and tapped him out in about 30 seconds by way of RNC. He got up, looked around, said "Jesus, I hope no one saw that" and then went extra hard on me afterwards. I was pretty thrilled.