Why do you train?
It’s a simple question, but depending on where you are in your journey, the answer changes. In the beginning, people rarely walk into a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu academy talking about becoming world champions, competitors, or even black belts. After years of running a gym and coaching students from every walk of life, I can say confidently: that’s not the norm.
Most people simply walk through the door looking for something. Sometimes they don’t even know what it is. Maybe they’re tired of the traditional gym routine. Maybe lifting weights stopped giving them any sense of fulfillment. Maybe they saw celebrities or public figures training and became curious. Whatever starts the spark, it usually isn’t trophies or medals.
Over the years I’ve had to learn how to coach to the masses and appreciate that reality instead of resisting it.
The Hook Isn’t Glory — It’s Healing
The popularity of jiu-jitsu has exploded. Actors, musicians, CEOs, and regular folks are discovering it, and I think sometimes practitioners forget that’s a good thing. They are bringing attention and legitimacy to our art. Most of them will never compete. Many won’t ever talk about tournaments or points or podiums. Instead, they talk about how training gives them an outlet — mentally and physically. How it helps with anxiety and stress. How it keeps them sane. How it makes them feel alive again.
That’s the hook for 95% of people.
We live in a world that is loud and overwhelming. Schedules packed. Expectations stacked. Families, careers, health, finances, personal demons. Modern life has become a fast-moving pressure cooker. Jiu-jitsu gives people space to breathe. It pulls them out of the rat race and forces them to reconnect with their bodies, their minds, and other human beings in a real way.
When someone is trying to pass your guard, you’re not thinking about your emails.
Most Students Aren’t Chasing Medals — They’re Chasing Belonging
The truth is, the majority of the people on your mats are not there to become champions. They’re there for the camaraderie. The tribe. The challenge. The laughs. The small victories that only they will ever really appreciate. They want to be missed when they’re not on the mat.
As a gym owner and head instructor, that changes how you think about the room. You have to build an environment people actually want to return to — not soft, but not toxic. Not exclusive, but not without standards. Somewhere in the middle is a culture that produces both tough people and good people.
When I was younger, I wanted nothing but savages in my gym. I chased that. And don’t get me wrong — I loved that season. It forged me and it forged a lot of my early students. But somewhere along the way things shifted. The more I invested in culture, the more I made the environment welcoming and inclusive while still holding a standard, the more “savages” I actually ended up with.
Today, we have more competitors than ever, and more tough rounds than ever, but our culture has never been healthier. Competitors and hobbyists train side by side. They push each other. They respect each other. And here’s the funny part: there are savages on both ends of that spectrum. Not everyone who competes is a savage, and not every savage competes.
Everyone Has a Journey — And All of Them Matter
As a coach, my goal is simple: I want people to enjoy their personal journey. I want them to feel valued and needed in the room. I want them to experience growth. Because when you strip everything else away — the medals, the promotions, the rankings — jiu-jitsu is about improvement. Becoming more capable. More humble. More resilient. More connected.
So Why Do You Train?
Maybe at the beginning the reasons don’t matter much. People show up with stress, with baggage, with curiosity, with ego, with fear, with boredom. But somewhere along the way the art starts changing them — quietly, slowly, consistently.
They get humbled, then encouraged.
They get challenged, then supported.
They get broken down, then rebuilt.
And one day they look around and realize they are part of something that isn’t really about techniques at all — it’s about becoming the kind of person who keeps showing up, even on the days they don’t want to.
That’s the real black belt.
That’s the real win.
And that’s why we train.
This Post Has 0 Comments