So, One Jiu-Jitsu is slowly becoming my third home in Brighton, but not without a few awkward, hilarious moments along the way. Let’s just say I didn’t exactly kick off my training there in the most badass way possible

Picture this: I rock up to my first session, all pumped and ready to roll, just taken my BCAA, cup of coffee and I’m just ready—thinking I’m about to get some serious fight training in. I’m imagining myself choking someone out (in a totally legal, jiu-jitsu-approved way, of course). But then… I walk in, and guess what? It’s not a jiu-jitsu class. Nope. It’s a first aid class. I spent the first hour learning how to save lives rather than defend mine. Turns out, before I could learn how to break someone’s arm, I needed to know how to strap it up first. Priorities, right?
Nah jokes, I turn up on the wrong day lol. Got it completely wrong.
Nothing like rolling in thinking you’re gonna be the next UFC star, and instead, you’re learning how to do chest compressions
But when I finally showed up on the right day, it was game on. And let me tell you, the staff, Absolute legends. The kind of people who could armbar you into next week but also crack a joke while they’re doing it. There’s this real sense of camaraderie there, like, yeah, we’re all trying to perfect the art of choking each other out, but we’re also just a bunch of misfits trying to stay in shape and not die in the process haha. It’s the only place where you can jokingly say, “I hope you don’t break my arm” and someone replies, “Only if you tap too late, mate.” Gotta love that friendly violence
And it’s not just about the fight techniques, it’s about surviving together. One minute you’re sparring, the next you’re laughing at the fact that your legs feel like jelly, and you’re probably going to walk like an 80-year-old for the next few days. But that’s the beauty of it. You suffer together, you laugh together, and if you’re like me, you show up on the wrong day and learn how to resuscitate your mates
Honestly, One Jiu-Jitsu is more than just a gym—it’s a family. A weird, sweaty family that could choke you unconscious (I guess like Christmas in some families) but still, a family. If you’re in Brighton and fancy learning to fight and patch up your mates, this is the place to be. Just, uh, double-check the schedule before you rock up, or you might end up doing CPR on a dummy instead of sparring