When Your Submissions Don't Hit: A Purple Belt’s Diary on Tournament Heartbreak and Technical Fixes

"You don't lose, you learn." Said every coach to make you feel less bad about losing.

Getting your purple belt is often described as the "baby black belt." It's the rank where you start transitioning from the shallow end to the "big kid" deep end.

For me, Kirsten, owner and practitioner here at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance, receiving that purple belt felt like the start of a mission. I wanted to represent 10th Planet Headquarters and prove myself as a purple. I always felt I was slow learner and it took me a long time that in order for me to get good at something, I had to really put in the work.

I felt sharp, my transitions were fluid, and my submissions felt potent. I felt "strong" against all my teammates men and women.

This was July 2020. I got my quick highlight submission and was promoted to purple belt.

At that time, I was training twice a day, six days a week. Those WERE THE DAYS.

Those COVID days were my highlight. I can’t say that for all my teammates, but that was my peak training era. My cortisol levels were so low from all the training. Looking back on it, my body was in peak shape, my cardio was 100% plus some.

This was the day before the competition. My teammate was doing strength and conditioning to help me prepare, and I truly felt ready for this tournament.

But then came the tournament.

In the world of No-Gi Jiu Jitsu, a tournament is the ultimate "truth-teller." It exposes the gaps between what you know and what you can actually execute under fatigue, pressure, and high-stakes moments.

This tournament was submission only with EBI (Eddie Bravo Invitational) rules. To be honest, I felt the most confident going to overtime. The last three weeks of my camp, we were live situational sparring EBI rules like no other.

For this advanced tournament, purples were included with the brown and black belts. Which is scary for a fresh purple belt competing.

Was I scared? In a way, yeah. I didn't want to lose. Getting hurt was another concern, but losing was something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

It's not like I'm a sore loser or anything. It's more that when you're competing, it feels bigger than just you. It's your coach, teammates, physical therapists, and family back home. Luckily, I did not lose money or brand deal etc coming into it. It was more that you have this one opportunity to show everyone what you can be, and then you feel like you let you down.

For this particular tournament, I got to the finals.

What got me there was playing off my back and EBI overtime. Was it exciting to watch?

Meh.

It took me two months to review the footage. And I was mad at myself that I did not try harder to avoid having a boring game.

Match One: The Gear Disaster

I got through the first match with EBI OT and was able to get the armbar.

What I learned from that match up: I f*cking hate short sleeve rashguards and I should have packed better leggings.

We were given these rashguards as competitors, but I kept dropping back for leg lock bites and NONE OF THEM WERE LANDING.

It was so frustrating because it would slip literally every single time. Then my leggings decided to drop, and my worst fear was my fishtail showing. The thought of all the viewers getting that view was a concern that weighed too heavy, and it kinda threw me off.

What to do next time?

✅ Wear a body suit with a long sleeve rashguard.

Match Two: Teammate Rounds Are Tough

Changed my outfit immediately. The gear you wear can make you feel more confident.

I really don’t like going against teammates.

Sorry, I should rephrase: at that time, I did not like competing against teammates.

In this sport where emotions run high, it's hard to stay objective when one of your favorite teammates is going for the SAME THING.

Even though we have competed multiple times against each other, it does not get easier. I give her props, and she's an amazing grappler, but that match? Not this time. I wanted this.

This round, I got the win with EBI overtime. She knew my game, so she shut down all my entries during regulation. It was not until overtime where I got this:

Onto Finals

This match was one of my toughest to date.

My competitor, Jordan Patrick, was known as the brown belt that subbed that huge bodybuilder online. It was circulating around at the time. She was already a seasoned black belt by then, and looking up to her at weigh-ins was a WEE BIT TERRIFYING.

One of my biggest insecurities for a long time was my height. I'm 5'2 walking at 165. I'm like a pocket Pitbull compared to these Cane Corsos. As a white belt, that size advantage ALWAYS bothered me.

Eventually, I got better at handling size differences by training with guys 3x my size. But the nerves get louder when you walk out, slap hands, and there are cameras facing you.

The Final Match

AGAIN, I WAS PLAYING OFF MY BACK.

YES, IT'S ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M STILL SALTY ABOUT IT YEARS LATER. I'M NOT YELLING AT YOU, I'M YELLING AT THE SITUATION.

All my leg entries were telegraphed before I could EVEN GET A GRIP. So it was me shelling up and being defensive turtle until OT.

Was I proud?

MEH.

But I had to change it. I had to try in overtime.

This is the biggest lesson I learned, and it is forever EMBEDDED in my brain:

NEVER LET GO OF THE THUMB and GO FOR CHOI BAR, GODDAMNIT.

I was relying too much on one arm controlling hers, and I wanted to use my other arm to hold her leg. But damn, her legs were so strong. I still remember it to this day.

I loosened up the control of her arm while trying to control the leg, and she was out.

UGH.

...

Looking back at this five years later, hindsight is 20/20. But do not let your mistakes stop you. You will always make mistakes. We are human. It's bound to happen no matter how hard you try to avoid it.

You just need to cry in a corner for like five minutes, review the footage, get back on the mats, and TRY AGAIN.

I feel like you lose more when you do not try.

You cannot lose if you do not quit.

I made it to the finals, but I walked away with a very clear realization:

My submissions just weren't hitting.

Why Do We Fail When the Stakes Are Highest?

The frustration of getting to the finish line and not securing the tap is a universal experience for grapplers.

In the first round, I found myself in the trenches. I spent a big part of the match on my back, dealing with high-level pressure, and I still managed to secure the win through EBI overtime using the spiderweb and back control systems we drill at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance.

Round two was a test of cardio, grit, and staying mentally in it. I won again in overtime, but the red flags were waving. I was relying on the "safety net" of overtime instead of finishing the fight in regulation.

Then came the finals against Jordan Patrick, an established black belt. I had the opportunity. I had the armbar. But in the heat of the moment, I made a fundamental technical error that cost me the gold.

Instead of controlling the thumb and keeping the right angle, I focused too much on keeping her arm tucked in my elbow pit.

Jordan, being the high-level athlete she is, recognized the lack of control, hit the hitchhiker escape, and I was left staring at the ceiling.

How Do You Fix a Submission Game That Isn't Hitting?

If your entries are there but your finishes keep slipping away, you have to look at three things: recovery, strategy, and system.

1. The Trap of Overtraining

Why is more training sometimes worse for your technique?

Leading up to this tournament, I was training 5 to 6 days a week, often twice a day. That builds mental toughness, but it can also cook your nervous system.

When you're exhausted, the first things to go are the little details: the thumb grip, the angle, the bite, the timing. The stuff that actually finishes submissions.

• Respect the rest: At 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance, we intentionally schedule rest days on Fridays and Sundays. Those days matter. Recovery is where your body repairs and your brain actually absorbs what you trained.

• Quality over quantity: If you're rolling at 50% of your technical capacity because you're 100% exhausted, you're not building your best game. You're practicing survival habits.

• Listen to the signs: Chronic soreness, heavy legs, and feeling like every round is uphill are signs you probably need recovery, not another death round.

• Doing the basics: Getting your sleep, eating whole foods (not the supermarket) and taking the time to rest for your body to recover. Those basics will go a long way if done properly.
  

2. Developing a Confident Game Plan

Is relying on EBI overtime a real strategy?

EBI overtime is a great system, but it should be Plan B, not your whole personality.

If you go into a match thinking, "I'll just win in OT," it can make your regulation game passive. You wait. You defend. You accept bad positions. Then suddenly the match is over and you're mad at yourself for not opening up sooner.

To become a better competitor, you have to be offensive from the first whistle.

1. Assertive entries: Focus on high-percentage standing techniques so you can dictate the pace. We emphasize standing work at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance because it forces your opponent to react to you.

2. Submission chains: Do not hunt for one finish. Attack in sequences: triangle to armbar to omoplata, leg entry to saddle to back take, whatever fits your game. Make them defend more than one thing.

3. Confidence in the finish: Be honest with yourself. If you're "holding" a position instead of advancing the submission, you're stalling your own progress.
   
   

3. Staying Consistent to the 10th Planet System

Why is a systemized program better than random rolling?

The reason we follow a specific curriculum at our school, like Closed Guard and Rubber Guard on Tuesdays and Leg Locks on Thursdays, is because it builds a connected game.

Random rolling can be fun, but if everything is random, your game becomes a pile of moves instead of a system.

• The power of detail: My loss in the finals wasn't because I didnt know the armbar. It was because I didnt respect the detail that finishes the armbar.

• Technical honesty: Use your training sessions at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance to be critical of your finishes. Ask Coach K or Sensei Marvin, "Why did they escape?"

• Daily discipline: Consistency beats intensity. Showing up to the regular class schedule and drilling the basics will always do more for you than a two-week panic blitz before a tournament.

Summary Checklist for the Stuck Grappler

If your submissions are hitting a wall, run through this checklist:

• Are you resting? Did you take at least two full days off this week?

• Is your grip technical or emotional? Are you controlling the levers, or are you squeezing for dear life?

• Are you following the 10th Planet curriculum? Tuesdays and Thursdays are non-negotiable.

• Did you have a Plan A? Or did you just wait for a mistake?

FAQs on BJJ Tournament Performance

How often should I train for a tournament?

"More is better" is a common myth. For most people, 3-4 high-quality sessions per week with focused drilling will do more than 10 sessions of junk volume that leads to injury. Being consistent 2-3 times per week for three months before competition is crucial.

Why does 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance focus so much on No-Gi?

No-Gi removes the "friction" of the gi, which means you need more technical precision, better timing, and sharper movement. It's also directly aligned with major professional platforms like ADCC and FloGrappling.

Final Thoughts

Tournament heartbreak is a heavy price to pay, but it's also one of the most efficient ways to learn.

Whether you're a white belt trying to survive your first session or a blue belt coming from a gi background looking to upgrade your leg-lock game, remember this:

The system works if you work the system.

Stop overtraining. Build a plan. Trust the details.

See you on the mats at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu: Torrance.