Influenced by influencers?

Finding Your Zen in a Sea of BJJ Influencers

Ever notice how your social media feeds are suddenly flooded with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu influencers doing impossible-looking moves? One minute you're innocently scrolling through cat videos, and the next you're watching someone in a rashguard contort themselves like a human pretzel. That's not coincidence—that's the algorithm doing what it does best: trapping you in its web.

Let's be honest. We've all fallen down the social media rabbit hole. You pick up your phone for a "quick check" and suddenly it's two hours later and you're watching your fifth consecutive video on "How to Perfect the Berimbolo." Your spouse is giving you that look again. You know the one.

These BJJ influencers are building their brands, gunning for fame and sponsorships. They want you to buy their instructionals, attend their seminars, and purchase whatever brand of açaí bowl they're promoting this week. And hey, no judgment—we all need to make a living.

But at 58, my knees make more noise than my blender when I stand up. My recovery time isn't measured in hours anymore—it's in days. And let's face it, nobody's tuning in to watch middle-aged folks like us grunt our way through a technical roll. The spotlight belongs to those young phenoms with endless cardio and joints that don't sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies.

Here's what I've discovered, though: rolling is my meditation. When I'm on the mats, suddenly the mortgage payment, that deadline at work, and whether I remembered to take the chicken out to thaw—it all disappears. There's only this moment, this opponent, this puzzle to solve. It's mindfulness disguised as attempted strangulation (consensual, of course).

While your colleagues are paying good money for mindfulness apps, you're achieving the same mental clarity by trying not to get your arm hyperextended. Now that's efficiency and it's a lot of fun.

I've started unfollowing social media accounts that don't align with my goals or that make me feel inadequate about my journey. Those highlight reels of 22-year-olds winning their third world championship? Not helpful when my victory for the day was making it to class without forgetting my rashguard.

Most of us don't have the luxury of training twice daily with world champions in state-of-the-art facilities. We're squeezing in classes between work meetings and family obligations. We're more concerned with paying for our kid's braces than booking flights to the next IBJJF tournament in Tokyo.

For me, BJJ is about becoming better—not just on the mats, but in life. It's about patience, resilience, and knowing when to tap (literally and figuratively). It's not about Instagram followers or how many sponsors I can accumulate.

So if you're considering stepping onto the mats for the first time at 40-something, know that there's a place for you here. A place where your value isn't measured by medals or followers, but by the quality of your presence and the sincerity of your effort.

And sometimes, the best thing you can do is put down your phone, close the YouTube tutorials, and just show up to class. Your body might hate you tomorrow, but your mind will thank you.

See you on the mats. I'll be the one with the ice pack and the big smile.