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BJJ Competition Nerves: Lessons from a Blue Belt in Rio de Janeiro

Jiu-jitsu medalists on podium; three women in white and blue gis smiling, one man in black tank top and blue pants. "Desafio Verão" sign behind.

Honestly, I don’t recall the exact organization behind the Verão Open, but at the time, it felt important. Navigating the experience with a language barrier made it even more intense.​

When I asked one of the gym’s Black Belts, whom they affectionately called Gato Mestre or Mestre gato ( I can’t remember now), to sign me up for the tournament, he agreed to come along and coach me. Our coaches were tied up with other duties, and this was a small, local event. Having him there made a huge difference. He picked me up early in the morning, fresh off a long night of some version of Uber work they had back then. Exhausted, he told me to drive because he was too worn out. The plan was to head to the venue, which was on the far side of town, past Copacabana.

The drive was about an hour with light traffic. His car was a stick shift, and I’d driven manual before, but I quickly learned that gear placement in South American cars could be different from what I was used to. First gear and reverse weren’t in the same spots, and I spent the ride praying not just that I’d get us there safely, but that I would not break the car and arrive in one piece. I kept muttering to myself, “I don’t care how the tournament goes, just please let us live.” First day driving in Rio de Janeiro.  Imagine LA, with construction and more chaos.

The Emotional Toll of the Day​


By the time we arrived, I was a mess, emotionally exhausted from navigating some of the craziest traffic I’d ever seen in a car I’d never driven before. To boot, Gato Mestre had dozed off in the front seat the whole way, leaving me to wrestle with the nerves and the decision of whether I was prepared for this comp.

Sign-In Confusion and a Weight Class Mix-Up

We headed to sign in, and I didn’t see my name on the board with the other girls. We approached the organizer to find out that Gato Mestre signed me up for the middleweight division in the men’s category. At that time, I was actually a featherweight and clearly female. The organizer explained that no weight changes were allowed on the day, but he offered to put me in the female middleweight category.

There was a substantial weight difference, roughly 30 pounds, between the other competitors and me in that bracket. I wasn’t at my strongest; I’d been training in Jiu-Jitsu primarily, and at this point, I had probably lifted 10 times since I started Jiu-Jitsu. This was one of the reasons I started my online coaching program. Things like strength and conditioning + nutrition are invaluable for Jiu-Jitsu. I had no idea, and by blue belt, all the Brazilian girls competing had a diet locked in and hit the gym at least twice a week. It felt like a mismatch on paper, but I decided to embrace the challenge anyway.

The Day Itself

The Verão Open turned out to be a defining memory for me as a blue belt. It wasn’t just about winning or losing; it was about showing up, dealing with a language barrier, managing fatigue, and facing competitors who were in a weight class that didn’t quite align with my own. Gato Mestre’s presence, both his guidance and his fatigue, made the day feel like a team effort, even though I was the one in the ring. I ended up winning 2 matches, both by arm bar, and losing to the champ for 3rd place.

If you’re reading this and thinking back to your own first big tournament, you probably remember a moment when everything felt overwhelming, yet you still found a way to keep going. For me, that moment came in the form of a long drive, a stick shift that didn’t cooperate at times, and the quiet confidence that my coach believed I could handle it.

Aftermath and Reflection

Looking back, the Verão Open remains one of my favorite competitions, not because of podium finishes or accolades, but because of what I learned about resilience, adaptability, and trust in your team. It reminded me that progress in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu isn’t just about technique, it’s about showing up, even when the path is imperfect and the day feels chaotic.

If you’ve ever had a tournament day that started with a rough drive and a mix-up at sign-in, you’re not alone. Share your own memories in the comments. I’d love to hear how you turned a challenging day into a meaningful milestone.

If you’re ready to develop a body and mindset for competition, schedule your free consult by filling out this interest form for my coaching program. I’ll review your information and reach out to discuss your goals and next steps here

 
 
 

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