Last night I drove down to Augusta for Winter Wars 2005, a kickboxing and MMA (mixed martial arts) event held at one of the gyms on Fort Gordon. They had about a dozen kickboxing matches and five MMA matches. I went largely to support my gym; three of the MMA matches had fighters from my school.

I train once a week at the Hardcore Gym in Athens, Georgia. I’m studying Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and mixed martial arts, which I then share with the guys in the martial arts club on campus. The gym is run by two brothers, Adam and Rory Singer, whom I knew back when I was getting my Masters at the University of Georgia. Back then, they were just students, but shortly after I left, they were contracted to teach hand-to-hand combat to the Airborne Rangers. Then they started competing seriously, and Rory even competed in Pride, a very famous (televised) MMA event held in Japan. Once I moved back into the area, I had to hook up with them again.

I got to Fort Gordon, and went looking for my fellow gym members. Forrest Griffin saw me and came up and tapped me on the shoulder. Forrest teaches the BJJ class I take. He’s also a contestant on “The Ultimate Fighter,” a martial-arts reality TV show on Spike TV. So I train with him, then watch him on TV Monday nights. That’s really cool. (They finished filming last fall, but all the contestants are bound by nondisclosure agreements, so he’s mum on who won.)

Anyway, Forrest and Rory were in the back, preparing their fighters for the matches. (They were the fighters’ cornermen by the ring.) I took a seat high up on the bleachers to watch the action.

I was completely surprised by the atmosphere. It was very family-oriented. The first three fights in the ring were of little kickboxers – about eight years old! (Their padded gloves were larger than their heads.) The referee was very careful with them. Throughout the evening, there were lots of little kids around, running to their parents, running away to the fight teams (who’d play with them, pick them up, and generally show them a lot of attention), and instead of having “ring girls” (attractive, scantily clad women who hold up the “Round 2” cards in between rounds), they had the kids do it – six- and eight-year-olds who’d come to watch their daddies fight.

And their daddies did fight. There were several kickboxing matches between men that had gray hair, and looked obviously 40ish. They did a good job at matching up the men, not only within their weight class, but also by age. All but a couple of the bouts were amateur, though – this wasn’t like a major boxing event at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas.

Of the three matches, my gym won two. The first match started off well, with our guy shooting in for a single-leg takedown, but after taking his opponent down, he wasn’t able to do anything further, and after a minute or so, the ref stood them back up. The second time, his opponent hit him with a barrage of punches to the head as he shot in, and he was knocked out. (In mixed martial arts, they only use four- or six-ounce gloves, instead of the 16-ounce gloves used in boxing, and they don’t use headgear.)

The second match went really well. Our guy dominated his opponent during the first round, and finished him off in the second round with a triangle choke.

The third match started poorly. Our guy got taken down, his opponent took the mount, and barraged his face with punches until the end of the round. Fortunately, he was able to roll with the blows and cover with his arms, and he was in full possession of his faculties when the round ended. The second round, his opponent shot in to take him down. Our guy sunk in a guillotine choke and drew him into the guard as he was taken down. Seconds later, the other guy tapped.

All in all, an exciting night. Good job, guys!

I fought a student of mine last night.

Several students and I are forming a martial arts club here on campus. On Wednesday afternoons, we meet in the lobby of the guys’ dorm and practice submission grappling. Submission grappling is pretty much just like high-school wrestling, except instead of going to a pin, you go to a submission. The person has to “tap out” (tap three times, on the ground or on his opponent) to signal that he gives up. This is the equivalent of crying “uncle,” except that since chokes are allowed, we can’t rely on anyone being able to speak.

I’d just finished doing a few rounds with a beginner when he showed up and wanted to go. He hadn’t been training with us, but he’d had a year of judo and a semester of high school wrestling. He was about my size, maybe ten pounds heavier.

We started off on our knees (space constraints). I began feeling him out, pulling on his arms, looking for an opening. He was very aggressive, driving into me and pushing me back. I rolled backwards onto my back and drew him into my guard, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. For the next several minutes we held that position, as he tried over and again to submit me. He tried to apply an Americana armlock, but he wasn’t able to get the right position since he was in my guard, and I was able to defend. He stood up and put all his weight onto my head with his own head as he tried to move my arms into position. He put his forearm on my throat and put all his weight on it, but I tucked my chin to my chest and defended.

I know several submissions from this position, but most of them depend on the opponent sitting back and trying to get out from between my legs, which he never tried. He kept his weight on my upper chest and head. Being that close, I could closely monitor his breathing – I was taking one breath for every two or three he took, so I guessed I was wearing him down.

And then, I saw the opportunity.

He had excellent balance and stability, but – whether from tiredness or something else – he eventually allowed himself to wobble a bit. When he did, I arched my back and threw my hips to one side. In slow-motion, I could see him flail a bit, then come crashing down to that side. I continued the roll, ending up sitting on his torso with my legs on either side. Immediately, I scooted up onto his upper chest, pushing his arms out of the way so I could get my knees up into his armpits. He bucked his hips up, trying to dislodge me, but by then, I wasn’t over his hips; besides, my balance was too good.

He started trying to roll over, trying to get to his hands and knees. This is a mistake that wrestlers always make; it’s what they’re trained to do. But wrestlers don’t have to worry about the Rear Naked Choke. I lifted my weight off his chest a little, happy to oblige him if he wanted to roll to his hands and knees. When he did, I tucked my feet under him and hooked the inside of his thighs with my heels (“getting my hooks in”). My right arm slithered around his neck and grabbed my left forearm, which was pushing on the back of his head. He realized what was happening, and grabbed my arm with his hands and pulled down to relieve the pressure. Now he didn’t have anything to support his upper body, so his face was in the carpet. He tried kick his legs out and dislodge my hooks, so I wound my legs deeper and further around his, much like a grapevine climbing a post. I pulled back with my arms and stretched him out with my legs, so he was flat against the ground. I was planning on how I was going to get those arms off of my choking arm, when I felt it: three weak taps.

“Tap,” I said, and climbed off.

A student lent me a few DVDs recently.

Waking Life: A heavily philosophical film exploring the nature of dreams and reality through a series of loosely connected vignettes, all done in experimental animation techniques. You'll either love it or hate it. I thought it was well done, but I kept wanting the speakers to slow down and define their terms. Some of the philosophy was thought provoking, while other parts seemed like transparently self-contradictory mumbo-jumbo.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: Very, very good. A couple gets sick of each other and decides to split up and erase their memories of each other from their minds. (This would place it in the sci-fi section of the video store.) Shortly thereafter, they meet again . . . and fall in love. It says a lot about the value even of negative experiences. Also, the character Clementine has almost the exact same personality as Sunny. (Hi, Sunny!)

Touching the Void: A documentary with reenactments. Fifteen years ago, two mountain climbers were up a South American peak that had never been climbed before. One of them broke his leg. His partner tries lowering him down the mountainside with a rope, but winds up accidentally lowering him over the edge of a bluff. He isn't strong enough to pull him back up, and as the hours go by, he is slowly pulled to the edge himself. He cuts the rope. His partner, after falling nearly a hundred feet and being left for dead with a broken leg, crawls out of the crevasse and across several miles of glacier and rocks with no food or water for days to escape. Very tense; very good. I didn't think I'd like the "reenactment" bits, but the story was told by voiceover of the two men involved, and it worked.

My refrigerator has become a veritable garden. Yesterday I looked inside and realized I had apples, oranges, grapes, strawberries, tomatoes, olives, chipotle peppers, and onions. Last week I also had blueberries, apricots, and lettuce. I have no processed meats and the only drink is orange juice.

I think I've discovered why I'm losing weight. I had miscalculated how many carbs I was getting at supper. It turns out I had misremembered the carbs for certain fruits and vegetables. Apparently, I was getting more carbs from my tablespoonful of salad dressing than from my entire spinach-and-tomato salad. And I wasn't getting nearly enough carbs from my one cup of strawberries. It turns out, I had to have two cups of strawberries and a cup of grapes to get the carbs I needed (to go with my lemon pepper fish). I felt really full when I finished eating last night! And I must say, I never would have eaten that much "sweet" food if it hadn't been on my diet!

I was asked to be the sponsor for the Freshman Class by the Freshman Class Council of Student Government. About 75% of the council are my students this semester, or were last semester. I accepted. I don't really have to do anything but hang out at their meetings sometimes and advise them. Yay me!

A couple of days ago, I went shopping for a new Bible cover. (I spilled chicken grease on my old Bible cover. Don't ask.) I discovered that nobody who buys Bible covers has a sense of style. I mean, they all had umpteen pockets, big pewter zippers (of either a cross or a fish -- how original!) and eye-agonizing designs on them. Some had slogans like "Y2K Survival Kit" screenprinted on them (these were in the bargin bin). One had -- I am not making this up -- a plastic ruler as a bookmark with a big gold tassel hanging down. It was marked in both inches and centimeters. Several had fold-away purse handles on them. (Look! It's a Bible! Now it's a purse!) One imagines the confusion in the checkout line when a hurried housewife discovers she has grabbed the wrong purse on the way to the store. Or the even greater confusion of the purse-snatcher that hits her on the way out of the store.

I finally settled on a solid black cover with one zippered pocket. (No pewter.) After I got it out to the car, I used my Gerber E-Z Out to perform emergency surgery and remove the eyesore of a "personal ID tag" affixed to the front. It left a series of holes where the stitching was, but it was a considerable improvement.

Superbowl Sunday is over. I spent it in Atlanta with my best friend Dann. We ate pizza and made jokes while we ignored the game. That's what it's all about, isn't it? We also watched Napoleon Dynamite, a very funny movie I had missed when it came through the theatres last year about this time.

I was in Atlanta for a missions conference my church down there was putting on. My old college mentor, Allen Hood, was speaking. He's a great preacher; I never get tired of hearing him speak.

I drove down Saturday morning in time for the first session at 9 am. (Yes, I had to get up at 5:15 a.m.! AAAARGH!) I liked it so much I got the CD. There were other sessions that day, by other speakers, who were also good (but not as good as Allen). I got to eat lunch with Allen and spend some time talking with him, which was really good. Now that Allen is the Executive Director (i.e., second in commmand) of the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, everybody wants to talk to him and tell him things. But Allen wanted to spend time with me! I was very happy.

I spent the night at Dann's, and he and I went to my church to hear Allen speak again at the morning service. Dann had never heard Allen speak before, nor had he ever visited my church, so it was really cool being able to share it with him.

I also got to see all of my old friends from that church and say hello. It was a great weekend.