I had been up since 2:30 a.m. that Saturday morning to catch the first flight to Atlanta, where I would compete in a jiu-jitsu tournament that afternoon and fly back home that night—or so I thought. My husband Matt was at home with our daughter, tackling numerous spring cleaning projects—power washing, scrubbing, painting, hedge trimming, and weeding. We were hosting our annual crawfish boil for 25 of our neighbors the following weekend, and Sunday was my day to complete the task list. Matt was also tracking the approximate time of my match so he could watch it via the tournament organization’s live YouTube stream.
As the plane landed on time in Atlanta and we taxied to the gate, I pulled up my phone and checked the live competition schedule to see if I was still on time that day. Scrolling through the Saturday competitors bracket, I didn’t see my name anywhere. Confused, I went to Sunday’s brackets, and there it was. I broke out into a stress sweat, and my stomach knotted up. My match was tomorrow afternoon (Sunday), not today (Saturday).
I only had a GORUCK ruck with my gi and BJJ stuff, some snacks, an extra pair of underwear (thank God), an extra t-shirt, deodorant, and a hairbrush.
Solid.
I immediately went into self-flagellation mode about being an idiot, my ridiculous lack of attention to detail (hello, military training), and so on. How could I have overlooked this? Was it like that the entire time, or did they change the schedule at some point in the past few weeks? It didn’t matter. Either way, I’d screwed up and left my super supportive husband at home pretty much an extra day than we both had planned. I felt awful at the looming possibility of telling him I’d be gone an extra day, and he’d have to proceed on the homefront tasks without me. There’s only so much deep work you can get done when your 5-year-old wants to ride her four-wheeler through the yard, has no issues skinny dipping in the pool by herself when our backs are turned, and inventing her own “projects” that she needs our help with.
As we parked at the gate and got off the plane, I geared up to call Matt and tell him I screwed up. “Well, honey, guess what…..” He couldn’t believe it either, but he was his usual wonderful self. I told him I needed some time to get my bearings and figure out what to do, and I’d call him back and let him know what I figured out.
I sat on the floor of the terminal with my back against the wall, and people watched as I thought about what to do. A part of me considered saying, “Screw it,” turn immediately around, and get on the first flight back home to help with our chores on Sunday as planned. If I do that, how would I explain it to my BJJ professor and training partners, who have spent untold extra hours with me the past few months during private lessons to prepare for this competition?
All was not lost. I told myself that at least I was a day early and not a day late. If it were the other way around, I wouldn’t have had a choice.
It doesn’t really matter what the screw-up is. What matters is what happens afterward and how we adapt to and figure it out.
Whether we are dealing with our personal lives or in a work environment, something will go wrong, and not according to plan. Equipment will break, shipments will not arrive on time, the projector will fail to show up on the screen for a presentation, calendar invites will be scheduled incorrectly, and flights will be missed. Much is out of our control. But even if the mistake is completely in our control and due to a boneheaded move, we need to take ownership of it and figure out a solution. It happens, and none of us are immune to it.
After spending an extra hour in the airport after landing, I walked out of there toward the BJJ tournament with a plan, feeling better and ready to roll. The tournament was just a 5-minute train ride away, and I was able to book a hotel between the two. I changed my flight to the following evening, upgrading to First Class for free (bonus). Extra healthy snacks were purchased at the airport, and the hotel provided a toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Very little is needed to make a happy life. It is all within yourself, in your way of thinking. ”
Reflecting back on that weekend, I came away with three main lessons instead of continuing to browbeat myself:
You need a team of people who are game with you - My hubby held it down at home and was probably more excited for me to make this trip to compete with my teammates than I was. When I was training at competition class on Friday evenings, he made sure dinner was ready and the cold plunge was at the appropriate torture temperature when I got home. My teammates also competing were higher belts than I am, with more years of BJJ training experience. They competed on Saturday and could have left to return home any time. Instead, they stayed with me to coach and cheer me on and to make sure I wasn’t alone, even when they had an 8-hour drive home.
You need less than you think to be just fine, to thrive even - Get over what you think you’re missing to make the situation “optimal.” Focus on what you have to make the situation successful and perform despite your perceived lack of what you don’t have. I didn’t bring my book with me on the trip, so I downloaded DuoLingo and started practicing Japanese for an upcoming adventure to Japan at the end of the summer. It was an unexpected way to keep my mind calm and the crazy nervousness at bay leading up to my matches. I was also able to find just enough at the airport and the hotel to get through the extra day.
Unexpected positives come from screw-ups - I slept for 10 hours Saturday night in a hotel bed by myself and woke up without an alarm. Any parent can tell you that’s a simple slice of heaven, especially after the 2:30 a.m. wake-up the night before. I had the opportunity to spend wonderful quality time with my teammates, getting to know them better and learning from them. A dear friend living in Atlanta carved out time in his day to watch my match, which lasted less than 5 minutes (spoiler alert - I lost and came in 2nd place). Just to get a hug and a “Go kick ass” from him meant so much. I met world champions and pioneers of BJJ, some who are Professors and coaching their people, some still competing, all of them beautifully gracious and supportive in speaking with a rookie like me.
My theme for 2024 is “Joy, not perfection.” It’s written on a sticky note in Sharpie and taped to my desk next to my laptop, so I always see it. The impromptu weekend in Atlanta was certainly both. Do your best. Adjust to your mistakes. Roll with the resources you have to get the job done. Don’t be too hard on yourself. And pack a toothbrush!
