My take on love, loss, and what I wore. Inspired by a letter to a friend about the loss of a parent.

On this day, two years ago, I signed my offer with my current employer, a shoe company, and began planning my exit from my previous employer. With my new manager at the shoe company imminently going on maternity leave, I didn’t have terribly much time in between bidding adieu to my old gig and starting the new one, but I knew those few days in between the jobs demanded a visit home to my family.

It had been…

Finals. Just over a minute on the clock. The score is 0–0. The triangle choke I almost finished in the first minute gives me a 1–0 advantage that would call the match in my favor were the time to run out with the score as is. But this is not the way I want this match to end, with my opponent being able to say, “Oh, I lost, but only on an advantage.”

Advantages are tie-breakers that are one step above a referee’s decision in determining the result of a match. Advantage points are awarded when one grappler has made…

It’s easy to write about the wins. It’s hard to write about the losses. It almost becomes harder to write about the losses when the pain from them has dulled — any visceral, tear-jerking, fist-throwing, red-faced emotion loses its edge over the course of a day, a week, a month. The kind of fiery or tsunami-like gush of feeling that makes for good writing is something I’m afraid of when it’s at its hottest and most forceful. It easily overtakes me. I’m not sure if it’s pretty on paper — then again, I’m not sure if it has to be.

…

I’ve come back to Boston, to work — and to winter, and the delightful 2-week Mex-Tex adventure is in the rear view mirror. There’s a dog to feed, a regular training schedule to observe, and my work station is no longer a clean, compact hotel desk but a cluttered artist’s corner of tchotchkes and pens and notebooks.

When most of the coworkers and training partners who knew about the trip ask me, “How was Mexico?” and “How was the competition?” I keep it short since I figure most are being polite and making small talk. I don’t assume that people…

Here’s a glimpse into the morning of my latest competition.

The burly Brazilians gather in the lobby, talking in hushed bellows in a huddle, eating just enough breakfast to make weight in the hours to come. They look at me in passing, likely not thinking that I, too, am fueling up for a long day of fights ahead.

I don’t look the part yet anyway. I’m still in the dress I’ve worn as a nightgown the entire trip and have yet to don my “armor” for the day: a quality Hyperfly or Lululemon sports bra, a tight-fitting tanktop and spandex…

Stakeholders change their minds on what they want. A big project requirement is missing in the final deliverable. A vendor misunderstands the specs and builds something different from what was briefed. Something gets lost in translation with a team member overseas. The site goes down on the biggest sale date of the year.

After five years of working full-time in retail technology and being at the mercy of larger corporate dynamics as well as smaller team dynamics, you’d think I’d be more unfazed by sudden changes and comfortable with ambiguity. I’m not.

To use a less business-example: my whole Tex-Mex…

Often the thing we want to do the least is the thing we should be doing the most. For many people I know, it’s exercising more, eating better, drinking less caffeine or alcohol, and sleeping more. In my non-jiu-jitsu life, that list is pretty much the aforementioned one (with the form of exercise being rehab/mobility work/yoga, in particular). When it comes to jiu-jitsu, the list of things looks like this: core work, grip strength training, and, last but not least, watching my own tape.

One of the most important things that has entered my jiu-jitsu learning experience over the last…

Let me give you an idea of my usual routine and training schedule, which has led to me coming home consistently frustrated, often angry, and sometimes in tears over the thing that is supposed to be my “hobby” that is pursued with the intensity of a part-time job:

Monday through Friday, I train between one and two hours of jiu-jitsu in the evening. Wednesday, add in one hour for judo. Friday, I sneak in a jiu-jitsu class at noon for another hour. Saturday, I essentially camp out at the gym from 9AM-1:45PM for the women’s jiu-jitsu class, a 90-minute break…