Pre-Trip

     Ok, so, if you have come to this blog site, then there is a good chance that you know me.  And, that I am leaving January 4th to go and train under Stephane Traineau in France for two months. (If not, then; hello, my name is Matt Scheib) And if you are a judo player with any interest in Olympic or World Championship level judo, then you have heard of Stephane Traineau. If you are just begining your judo career or don't play judo and haven't heard of him, then take a moment to check out his Wikipedia page and some clips on YouTube.

     The first question that I am generally asked when people find out that I am going to France is, "Are you going to try and make the Olympic Team?" And, well, quite frankly-- I'm not that caliber of player. Not naturally, anyway. I am not a gifted athlete. And no amount of training could ever make me a Jimmy Pedro, or Nicolas Gill. So, the question still remains: "Why am I going to France?" Just to learn how to teach and coach? Well, that's part of it, too. But, I'm not ready to hang up my competitive aspirations just yet. (And yes, I realize that I have not yet fully divulged exactly what those aspirations are...)

     I'm twenty eight years old (well past what most consider to be prime Olympic material: eight-teen to twenty six) and my knees don't much care for running, anymore. This is despite the fact that my entire non-physical being has always craved and needed the psyche-centering nourishment provided by miles and miles of Georgia trails. I am an ex-smoker (this lapse in judgement occurred after my running career ended in high school and before I began to take judo seriously again). I all but quit judo for the better part of half a decade after receiving my shodan (first degree black belt) when I was nineteen. So, basically, once college rolled around I traded a very well-balanced regiment of running and playing judo, for a very different sort of regiment. One that, unfortunately or otherwise (it's hard to have many regrets while knowing that every decision, good or ill has brought me to this point in my life) I was just as dedicated in maintaining.

     So, what happened? Why the sea change, yet again? One day I had a pal and co-worker ask me to help him with with some throwing techniques. He had entered a grappling tournament and got tossed firmly on his back by a judo player. It had been so long since I had put on a gi. And I was in no way to teach anyone. But, always wanting to help a buddy if I can, I decided to knock the dust off of my father's aged copy of Kodokan Judo and get back to the basics. In short: I fell in love with the sport like I never had before. Soon after, I decided to begin competing again. My father and coach, Dennis Scheib, said."OK, you want to compete again? Time to train. Let's see how you do through this workout..." upon finishing the workout, I quickly scurried around the corner of the dojo and heaved my guts up from the depths of my toes-- I promptly quit smoking. And like so many others before and after me; I was saved by judo, and in more ways than I currently care to discuss.  I was baptized by sweat, blood, jammed digits and swollen ears. Granted, it is a different sort of baptism than most care to endure, but generally the only kind that will do for those of us who are creatures of the sport.

    I lost my first match back on the mat. Which only furthered my resolve to train harder. Which I did. I then went through cycles of winning and loosing. Then, I began to compete in the US Nationals (winning my first match by foot sweep), and my first international tournament. And I spent some ten days training with the US national team in Boston, Mass. It did not take long to realize that if I wanted to improve significantly, then I would have to expand my exposure to players not only outside of my dojo and state, but outside of the country. In other words, I would have to travel to get my butt kicked. So, if you were one of the people who asked me, "So, are you excited about your trip?" and you thought my response somber-- this is why.

     If you want to really improve in judo, you have to find a dojo filled with players much better than you are. And if you are American, that generally means travel outside the US. So, immediately, you are a foreigner: an outsider. Regardless of how welcoming the dojo may be initially, and there's a good chance that they may not be if it is a dojo that trains competitors, their attitude will simply not be,"Oh, so you want to improve your judo? That's wonderful! Well, here's what you need to do..." No, sir. It's more like,"Oh, you want to improve your judo? That's great, because we could really use some fresh imported meat to pound the ever-loving crap out of. Please, get in line."

     So, yes; I am truly grateful for this amazing opportunity: the judo gods have surely smiled upon me. But, there is some trepidation on my part. Can I manage to keep those smiles from turning into laughter? We shall soon see.