Starting Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu After 40: Why I Wish I Had Started Earlier

If you're over 40 and thinking about starting Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, I'm going to tell you something I wish somebody had told me earlier:

Just start.

You're probably going to feel old.

You're probably going to feel out of shape.

You're going to get exhausted faster than you think you should.

Some 22-year-old who weighs half as much as you may tie you into a knot.

You're going to discover muscles you didn't know existed.

And there will almost certainly be a morning when you wake up, try to get out of bed, and wonder what the hell you were thinking.

Do it anyway.

My name is Jay Scott Kirk Lee. I'm in my 40s, I'm 6'6", I've spent much of my adult life building businesses and raising kids, and I'm certainly not the stereotypical person you imagine when you picture somebody starting Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

But BJJ has become an important part of my life.

I eventually earned my purple belt, but the belt isn't really the story.

The story is everything that happens while you're trying to earn it.

Walking Through the Door Is the Hardest Part

Starting something new at 20 isn't the same as starting something new after 40.

By the time you reach your 40s, you've probably become competent at something. Maybe you're running a company. Maybe you've built a career. Maybe you've raised children. People come to you for answers.

You've spent decades developing an identity.

Then you walk into a Jiu-Jitsu academy, put on a white belt, and suddenly you don't know anything.

That's uncomfortable.

And I think that's one of the reasons it's so valuable.

On the mats, nobody cares about your job title. Nobody cares how many employees you have. Nobody cares what car you drove to the gym. Nobody cares about your bank account.

The mats have a brutally efficient way of removing all of that.

You either know how to solve the problem in front of you or you don't. And when you don't? You tap. Then you start again.

Being Big Doesn't Solve Everything

At 6'6", I'm a very big guy. Naturally, size and strength matter in combat sports. Anyone pretending otherwise is being ridiculous.

If two people have identical skill, the bigger and stronger person has an advantage.

But Jiu-Jitsu taught me very quickly that size isn't the same thing as skill.

There is something particularly educational about having a much smaller person control you because they understand leverage, timing, balance, positioning, and technique better than you do.

You can try to muscle your way out. Sometimes it works. Until it doesn't.

Eventually you realize that constantly relying on strength is like trying to solve every business problem by throwing more money at it. It might get you through certain situations, but it doesn't necessarily make you better.

Technique gives you options. Knowledge gives you options. Experience gives you options.

And that's when BJJ becomes fascinating. It stops feeling like wrestling around with another human being and starts feeling like physical chess.

Jiu-Jitsu Is Chess With Consequences

I've always loved chess. That's probably part of the reason Jiu-Jitsu appealed to me.

There are patterns. There are traps. There are reactions. You're trying to think ahead.

If I do this, he does that. If he does that, I move here. If I move here, he has three likely responses.

Eventually, you're not just thinking about the position you're currently in. You're thinking several positions ahead.

Except unlike chess, somebody is actively trying to choke you. That adds a little urgency to the decision-making process.

And the more I trained, the more I began seeing similarities between Jiu-Jitsu, business, parenting, and life.

You can't control everything your opponent does. You can only control your response. Sometimes attacking harder isn't the answer. Sometimes you need patience. Sometimes you need to recognize that you're in a terrible position and stop making it worse. Sometimes the best decision is to defend, survive, improve your position, and wait.

And sometimes your ego tells you not to tap when the intelligent decision is obviously to tap. Life works remarkably similarly.

The Ego Problem

One of the biggest benefits of starting BJJ after 40 is that it forces you to confront your ego.

You will lose. A lot. You might get submitted by somebody younger than you. Smaller than you. Weaker than you. Someone who looks like they couldn't possibly be a threat to you. Then suddenly they're on your back and you're wondering how everything went so wrong.

Tap. Reset. Go again.

There's something healthy about that. As we become successful in other areas of our lives, it's easy to unconsciously construct environments where we're rarely complete beginners anymore. Jiu-Jitsu destroys that comfort. The mat doesn't care about the story you tell yourself about yourself. That's one of the things I love most about it.

Training After 40 Is Different

Here's the part where I'm not going to give you some motivational bullshit.

Your body at 40-plus isn't your body at 20. Recovery matters. Mobility matters. Sleep matters. Nutrition matters. Choosing your training partners matters. Knowing when to push and when to back off matters.

I've had injuries. I've had days when something hurts and I've had to change how I train. I've learned that longevity matters more than winning Tuesday afternoon's roll.

At 22, you might be able to train like an idiot and wake up the next morning ready to do it again. At 40-plus, your body sends invoices. Eventually they're due.

I want to practice Jiu-Jitsu for years, not prove something during one round. That means I have had to learn something that's difficult for competitive people: Not every roll needs to be a war.

There are days to push. There are days to learn. There are days to drill. And occasionally there are days when the intelligent decision is to stay home and recover. That's not weakness. That's longevity.

Becoming a Purple Belt

Eventually, I earned my purple belt.

For somebody who doesn't practice Jiu-Jitsu, a colored belt might just look like another belt. For the person wearing it, it's different.

That belt represents hours. Hundreds and hundreds of rounds. Getting smashed. Getting submitted. Learning. Improving. Forgetting something. Learning it again. Showing up when you don't particularly feel like showing up.

That's what I'm proud of. Not the piece of fabric. The consistency behind it.

Business has taught me the same lesson repeatedly. People dramatically overestimate what they can accomplish in a week and underestimate what they can accomplish by consistently doing something for years.

Jiu-Jitsu rewards consistency. You can't bullshit your way into being good. Eventually you have to put the hours in.

Why BJJ Matters to Me as a Father

One of the biggest reasons martial arts matters to me has nothing to do with fighting. I'm a father.

I spend a tremendous amount of time thinking about what skills my children will need in the world they're growing up in. Confidence. Discipline. Resilience. Problem solving. Leadership. The ability to stay calm when something goes wrong. The ability to lose without falling apart. The ability to win without becoming arrogant.

These are difficult things to teach through lectures. Kids don't need another speech about resilience. They need opportunities to experience difficulty and discover that they can handle it. Martial arts provides that.

You lose a round? You're okay. Someone is better than you? Learn. Something is difficult? Keep working. You're uncomfortable? Stay calm and solve the problem.

Those lessons extend far beyond the mats.

And as a father, I don't want to just tell my children how they should live. I want them to see me doing difficult things too.

The Mental Escape

I run businesses. I have children. I have responsibilities. Like everyone else, there are constantly things competing for my attention. Phones. Messages. Problems. Decisions. People needing answers.

One of the things I love about Jiu-Jitsu is that when somebody is trying to choke you, you become remarkably uninterested in checking your phone. For that hour, you're there. Completely.

It's difficult to think about tomorrow's meeting while defending a rear naked choke. There's something incredibly valuable about that kind of forced presence. The rest of the world temporarily disappears.

It's you, your training partner, and the problem directly in front of you.

I think that's one of the reasons so many people become addicted to Jiu-Jitsu. It's not just exercise. It's one of the rare places in modern life where you're forced to be completely present.

"I'm Too Old to Start"

I hear versions of this all the time. "I'm 42." "I'm 47." "I'm 52." "I need to get in shape first."

No. You don't need to become good at Jiu-Jitsu before starting Jiu-Jitsu. And you don't necessarily need to get fit enough for Jiu-Jitsu before walking through the door.

Start where you are.

Obviously, if you have medical issues or significant injuries, talk to the appropriate medical professional and be intelligent about what your body can handle. But don't confuse legitimate limitations with fear of being a beginner. Those are different things.

Being bad at something isn't embarrassing. Refusing to try things because you might be bad at them is far more limiting.

What I Would Tell Someone Starting After 40

If I could sit down with another guy in his 40s who's considering BJJ, I'd tell him a few things:

Don't compare yourself to the 20-year-olds. Find a good academy. Choose your training partners intelligently. Tap early. Leave your ego outside. Don't treat every round like the finals of the World Championships. Learn technique instead of depending entirely on strength. Take recovery seriously. Be consistent. Ask questions. Accept that some days you're going to suck. And keep showing up.

Most importantly, enjoy being a beginner. Because eventually you won't be one anymore.

I Wish I Had Started Earlier

People sometimes ask me if starting Jiu-Jitsu after 40 is too late. My answer is simple. The only thing I regret is not starting earlier.

But there's no point spending too much time thinking about when you should have started. The second-best time is now.

BJJ has given me another arena where I can compete, learn, improve, struggle, laugh, get frustrated, solve problems, and occasionally get folded into shapes that a man my size probably wasn't designed to make.

It keeps me humble. It keeps me learning. It keeps me uncomfortable. And I think we need more things in our lives that do that.

At this stage of my life, I'm less interested in proving that I'm good at things I already know how to do. I'm increasingly interested in discovering what else I can learn. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu gives me that opportunity every time I walk onto the mats.

I'm still learning. I'm still getting caught. I'm still trying to improve. And hopefully I'll still be doing exactly that many years from now.

If you're over 40 and you've been standing outside a Jiu-Jitsu academy wondering whether you're too old to walk through the door, here's my advice:

Walk in. Put on the white belt. Shake somebody's hand. Get smashed. Tap. Learn something. Come back tomorrow.

You might discover, like I did, that getting comfortable with being uncomfortable is one of the best things you can do for yourself.

— Jay Scott Kirk Lee

About the author: Jay Scott Kirk Lee.