You can read part 1 of the white belt survival guide here.
There are two types of people at their first Brazilian Jiujitsu class.
The first is the overly prepared guy. Maybe you already have some experience under your belt. Your older brother trained MMA, and you were his training dummy. You already bought a cheap gi on Amazon and are ready to dominate the kids’ class like Anakin executing Order 66 on younglings.
The second is the “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” guy. You showed up, eyes wide, noticing all the hungry glances from the people warming up like you’re in a shark tank.
From experience, the first guy is annoying; the second guy is teachable, as long as you’re willing to learn.
Your experience will vary, but here is what you can generally expect at your first class.
You’ll be welcomed
At good gyms, you’ll have even the most introverted fools come up and introduce themselves. They’ll ask your name, and may covertly try to determine your experience level. Note: It’s important not to lie. They’ll find out eventually anyway. If you have wrestling experience or did Combatives in the military, you can watch the hopes and dreams in their eyes die a painful death when you tell them.
Upper belts will especially welcome you to the fold. At my gym, it is a key value for everyone to take care of those with less experience, and that includes white belts with a month’s more experience than the trial-class guy.
If you were lucky enough to be invited by a friend, they should take the lead and introduce you, get you acquainted with the facilities, point out the instructor, etc. If you don’t know anyone there, someone will take your trembling hand and make you a man show you around.
Mat etiquette
This topic will get its own article. But for now, know these core commandments of gym law:
- You don’t walk on the mats with your shoes on, or walk off the mats barefoot.
- You say hi to the black belt(s) first. They call them professors (I don’t know why).
- Listen and do what the others are doing.
- Try.
What should you bring to your first BJJ class?
When you call ahead and schedule your class, ask about gi requirements. You might think of them as a karate outfit, and I double dog dare you to say that when you get to class. They are a training pant and jacket that many people wear in various martial arts.
Some gyms have loaner gis. Some gyms make you buy their branded gis if you join (personally, I think that’s the makings of a cult in an already cultish culture). However, not all gyms and classes train in the gi. I rolled at one gym that did gi in the winter and no-gi in the summer, so make sure to ask ahead of time.
Don’t worry about pads, headgear, or athletic cups. You won’t need that.
You should bring water, athletic clothing you are comfortable moving in, and slip-on shoes like slides or flip-flops.
Most importantly, bring that good ol’ “can do” attitude. Have a willingness to be embarrassed at how pathetically out of shape you are. Which is important so that you …
Don’t expect too much from yourself
You’re going to suck at this for a while. Everyone does. This will probably be harder than anything else you’ve ever done if you are inexperienced at suffering. I know fit bodybuilders who threw up at their first class.
But the reality of BJJ is that:
The cardio is different.
The muscles used are different.
It’ll be, and feel, awkward.
You won’t know how to move.
That’s fine; don’t sweat it. Just try.
Be prepared to roll
At some gyms, you’ll roll or spar on your first day. Other gyms may only teach you techniques for a few months until they are confident you won’t hurt either yourself or Ms. Janice, the mother of four who is just there trying to lose a few pounds. Then the training wheels come off.
At my gym we have about 10 mins of warm-up, 10 mins of learning (or failing at) a technique, and then about 40 minutes of rolling.
Each gym will be different. Be prepared either way.
You’ll be told a lot of stuff you won’t remember.
In both cases, class will be like drinking from a fire hose. The technique of the day the coach or professor taught, what your training partner tells you before, during, and after you tap, what your name is. You won’t remember it all, because you’re a baby learning how to walk or talk.
I heard it described on some episode of the Jocko podcast that learning BJJ is like learning a language. You start by learning the alphabet. Eventually you can say one- and two-word sentences. Then you make more complex sentences. Then paragraphs, then pages, chapters, and so forth. Then you get your black belt, and you realize you’ve read just one book and there are more books out there, and in other languages.
This is a sport/hobby/discipline you’ll always learn from. So don’t worry about learning it all on the first day.
You’ll have a supportive community.
I still remember how I felt after the first day, week, and month of BJJ. I was blown away by how supportive the community was. Everyone wants you to succeed. They want you to have what they have: the joy and freedom you receive from doing hard things over and over again.
I never served in the military. I never had the trauma-bonding that my friends who did serve had with their tight-knit units and their foxhole brotherhoods. This is the closest thing I’ve had to that. No one is shooting at me at my gym, but we are all suffering together, submitting our weak wills and weaker desires to a greater desire to be better than we were when we got there that morning.
The guys at my gym were the first to hear that my wife and I were pregnant, and among the first to hear that we miscarried. They were the first to hear my bio dad died, and the first to give me a hug afterward. They’re also the first to make fun of me and the first to congratulate me.
For many of us, it’s our therapy. It’s an hour where we get to ignore everything off the mats and just focus on surviving.
It’s a beautiful thing.
And if the BJJ bug doesn’t bite you and you don’t come back, there’s always jazzercise.
