Stands and says ever so sincerely; My name is Jay Gaulard and I’ve been training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu since March of 2008. That’s the admission and if you’re anything like me, you need help. What Kind of help? Well, we’ll hopefully discover that in the following post.
I don’t like using the word “possess” to often. It’s so cliché. It’s like, “What would ever possess you to do something like that?” I’ve heard it too much, but really, I have to ask the question – What would ever possess anyone to play the game of Jiu-Jitsu? If meeting someone for the first time one minute and rolling around on the ground in a sweaty mess the next appeals to you, then by all means go for it. But for the average folk, I say stay away. There are chances of injury, rashes, skin infections, and all around mental anguish. There’s a lot of risk out there. Who’s the guy you’re about to battle? Is he crazy? Who’s stream of sweat is puddling on your face? Is he clean? Who’s got you in this very odd position? Where am I anyway?
Back in the beginning, I remember sitting at my computer looking up local Karate schools. I had no idea what was what. Taekwondo, Aikido, Judo – they were all the same. All I knew was that if I found something I liked and joined up, I was likely to have to bow to my Sensei (think Napoleon Dynamite). It wasn’t the most appealing scenario, but I had wanted to get into martial arts for a while. At 35 years old, I thought I should probably swallow my pride and make the leap.
As I found and browsed through local school websites, I became more and more energized, yet slightly discouraged. I supposed the energy was born from the fact that yes, there were, in fact, schools available locally. The issue was, while they all seemed to suffice, they didn’t quite mesh with who I was. FYI – I’m a free spirit, a fun loving kind of guy who doesn’t necessarily like following dogma. The whole bowing to the Sensei thing was starting to freak me out.
After a few days, I eventually worked up enough courage to visit a Taekwondo academy in my town. It was one of the more popular establishments because – well, it was the only one. After calling and speaking to the owner, I was invited to sit in the waiting room and watch a class.
During that visit, I made two observations; 1. During warm up exercises, the instructor made the students bark out the numbers one through ten in Korean. 2. There were 40 year olds and 10 year olds in the same class. Not to mention, what they were doing confirmed the idea that this type of thing didn’t fit my character. I left that night with one idea cemented into my psyche – don’t do Taekwondo.
My second go round with checking into what I thought was interesting came via a Karate school in Glastonbury, Connecticut (I lived in Connecticut at the time). I’m not sure of the name, but I do remember walking in, not finding anyone, and leaving. I found myself driving back to my house, more determined than ever to see if there was something out there for me. By this point, I had become “vested” in the endeavor.
When I made it back to my computer, I looked on Youtube for the school I had just visited. I discovered that while they did teach Karate, their primary focus was on those gymnastic type tournaments. You know the type; guys and gals flipping around on mats only to finish their routine with a kick to an easily broken board. Ugg, this was what the world had to offer me?
So I kept on looking. I would say a week had passed when I probably mistakenly threw the wrong keyword into Google and watched it spit out something called Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Jiu-Jitsu? “What’s that?” I asked.
I poked around for a bit and found two websites for Jiu-Jitsu schools in Glastonbury, CT. They were fairly close to one another and both seemed probably (and I say probably because I was fairly beaten down by this point) decent. Since I had developed a track record of picking the wrong thing, I didn’t have hopes that were all too high. But nonetheless, I called the phone number that was listed on one of the pages. An answering service took my information and promised a call back.
Then, I sat and thought. Right in the middle of my thinking, my phone rang. It was Jeff Giroux – the owner of Giroux Bros Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (now closed) – the place I just called not more than a moment before. Jeff sounded nice enough and invited me to do the same thing the guy from the Taekwondo place did – come in to sit and watch. What the heck. I did it once so I’d do it again. Jiu-Jitsu seemed more interesting, so I didn’t have much to lose.
I’ll give you a quick run down of what happened that night. You need to remember, it’s been many years since this all occurred, so things are getting fuzzy. Plus, I’m getting older, which doesn’t help.
I arrived at Jeff’s place and was greeted warmly. Especially warmly by a guy we’ve since nicknamed, “Mersh.” The word Mersh is short for his full last name, which I’d better keep private. Mersh was also big poppa at Jeff’s place. When I first began, he was 60 years old and was an inspiration to us all. He was in, and is still in, impeccable shape and showed many of us that in just a few short years, we’d be hoping to train at his level. Mersh was a good guy.
I was also greeted warmly by Jeff himself and another good friend named Pete. Pete eventually became scarce because he decided to grow a family. If you’ve grown your own family, you’ll certainly agree that it can have a damping effect on training. We hoped Pete would return to the mats someday because he was an extremely talented player as well as teacher.
Now, about Jeff – when I first met him that night, he was wrapping a blue belt around his waist. He told me he had been training for about four years. Four years? At that moment in my life, four years seemed like an eternity for this type of thing. Pete had been training for eleven months and I thought he was a wizard. In my opinion, four years brought someone to the level of grand master. Jeff was at that level and during the hour I watched the class go by, I learned that what they were practicing looked strikingly similar to what I had been doing in all my years growing up – wrestling in my front yard. Ground stuff. Not learning how to kick wood, not learning how to put routines together. What they were doing looked like what happens when the rubber hits the road. It was the meat of fighting and self defense – it was on the ground and I liked it.
After the class was over, Jeff approached me to ask if I wanted to stop by to watch again. I practically tossed my money at him and asked where to sign. I loved what I had seen and I wanted to get in on it as fast as I could. The weeks I had wasted looking for something like Jiu-Jitsu had come to a head and I was ready to rumble. Needless to say, before the week was through, I was wearing some creepy pair of sweat pants, was on the mats, and was practicing my first martial art ever.
The first three months of training went very slowly for me. They reminded me of dating my first real girlfriend, where every month, we were to celebrate something I termed, “monthiversaries.” She called them anniversaries, but there was nothing annual about them. And after a while, I wondered why I had celebrated these months at all. They eventually turned into years and seemed relatively insignificant.
Jitsu training is the same way. In the beginning, every minute counts. I wondered when my first stripe would be taped around the end of my belt and was ecstatic when it finally was. It didn’t come without its hardships though. I was stretched, bruised, twisted, and broken. I was made fun of because of the way I used to handle pressure and smothering – I would tap (surrender – give up) almost immediately. Pete enjoyed mentioning that to the newer students. “The minute my stomach would lay across Jay’s face, he’d be slapping my back for me to stop.” And then that little chuckle Pete was so famous for.
I didn’t know much, but I will tell you this – I knew more after six months and even more than that after nine. By eleven months, Jeff was telling me that my blue belt was right around the corner, so I had better brush up on my technique. He was big into white belts being able to “survive.” Jiu-Jitsu is nothing if not survival. Even at 90 years old, Helio Gracie told Saulo Ribeiro that he would not be beaten. Saulo was a world champion at the time of the conversation and wondered what Helio meant. After some training, Saulo learned that Helio was correct – Saulo had not beaten Helio due to Helio’s superior survival skills on the mat.
A story I like to tell students is about how I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a month leading to my blue belt test. Jeff had a funny way of springing these things on us, so we were never fully prepared for the night. We also used to go pretty hard during these tests. One of my primary enemies was exhaustion. If there was anything that would happen during my blue belt test, it would be that I would give up. Hence, the sandwiches. I think they gave me the comfort of knowing I had just a tad bit of stored energy somewhere. Usually, I ate nothing before class, so they helped.
The night of my test, I walked through the door to a bunch of people looking at me. Mind you, back then blue belts were a big deal. We’re getting into the era of purple, brown, and blacks now, but years ago, blue was where it was at. I walked in, people smiled and I swear they heard the gulp. I got dressed and walked out to the mat, stretched and began what I thought was the most grueling night of my life.
You can see me in the picture below. I’m the guy in the blue gi – the one with the really red face.
I can remember Pete on top of me in the mount position telling me to fight. I guess he didn’t think I was doing enough and was trying to spur me on. I replied that I actually was fighting. I was battling my own worst enemy – me being so worn out that I would actually have to tap on the night of my blue belt test. Either tap or pass out. I chose to stay relaxed as to not overheat myself and it worked. My survival technique was one of the most basic in Jiu-Jitsu and that’s to simply stay alive to fight another day.
The time it takes from blue to purple belt can seem like forever. It took me three years of wearing a blue belt to even be considered for a purple. By this time though, Jeff had made his school an affiliate under the one and only Brad Wolfson of Soulcraft BJJ in Hamden, CT. This was a smart move because Jeff was becoming more and more concerned that our promotions might be stunted because of the infrequent visits of our previous affiliation. With Brad at our side, Jeff had every confidence that any and all promotions he deemed worthy would be blessed by the area’s newest black belt (under Marcio Stambowsky, by the way – a legend in his own right). This strategy proved fruitful because it didn’t take more than a few months for me to receive an invitation to Brad’s school for a “night of rolling.” I suppose the surprise was that I would be rolling with a shiny new purple belt.
A few others had received belts that night as well. These were pretty tough guys – guys who may have previously made me doubtful of my own skill. But if the years prior to that night taught me anything, they taught me that I can take care of myself on the mat. And that’s accurate, because the night of my purple belt promotion, I must have rolled with ten different guys. Almost all of them told me that I certainly deserved what I had earned. It made me feel good.
About a month after being promoted to purple belt, I moved from Connecticut to Palm Coast, Florida. Upon arrival, I located a top-notch BJJ club to join. It was called Fighting Chance BJJ and it was located in St. Augustine. This school was affiliated under world champion Roberto Traven – and let me tell you, what an awesome school it was. For the six months I lived in Florida, I traveled to Fighting Chance three days a week and engaged in some incredible training. What a talented and tough group of people.
Six months after I arrived in Florida, I left. I moved to Maine where I began training and teaching at The Foundry in Farmington. The year was 2013 and since then, I’ve been promoted to brown and black belts. I was also graciously asked to teach classes, which I accepted with excitement and pride. Since then, I’ve been teaching once per week and have been enjoying the fact that I get to pass on my knowledge. I’ve learned a lot since I began teaching as well. That’s one of the surprise benefits. The learning really never stops in Jiu-Jitsu and the fact that The Foundry’s other instructors are high level, competitive, and very technical doesn’t hurt. I have learned so much from them.
UPDATE: In March of 2020, I was promoted to black belt and in March of 2023, I received my “professor stripes” as well as my first degree stripe. Professor stripes indicate that I’m an instructor (teaching since 2016) and the first stripe indicates that I’ve been practicing Jiu-Jitsu for three years after receiving my black belt. It’s typically tradition to receive a stripe every three years after black belt until you reach coral belt, which will take another 30 years or something like that. Here’s a photo of me and a few other black belts from Tuesday night’s class at The Foundry in Farmington, Maine.
Below, I’ll post some photos from each era of my training. I’ll begin with Giroux Bros, then move onto Fighting Chance, and finally end with The Foundry.
Training at Giroux Bros in Glastonbury, Connecticut
Training at Fighting Chance in St. Augustine, Florida
Training at The Foundry in Farmington, Maine
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