In the eighteen years my husband has been a police officer, we have spent a small fortune on his career…the most common culprits are uniforms, equipment, and training. In January 2019, he enrolled in a course provided by Sheepdog Response (founded by Tim Kennedy), through which he had previously taken a similar training and loved it. This time the course was Sheepdog Level I, tailored specifically for law enforcement officers. In a nutshell, this company teaches military, law enforcement, and civilians to respond to threats of violence to preserve human life. (But there is so much more to it – if you are even remotely interested in self-defense or weapons, I encourage you to check them out at www.sheepdogresponse.com.)
My husband asked me if I wanted to take the Women’s Only Level I course, which was being held that same week and we would make a mini vacation out of it…side note, the trainings were being held in Las Vegas. Seeing a chance to become less like my bookworm self and more like the Black Widow, I agreed. While we were at it, I might as well join him in the “Carbine” course. Of course, my women’s class was scheduled for the beginning of the week and his LEO course was in the middle.
Nik and I arrived in Las Vegas and checked into our hotel on Sunday night. Within minutes, we found out that my husband was severely allergic to something in the air, as well as all the cigarette smoke in the hotel. Luckily, one of the very, very few hotels that were non-smoking had a vacancy and we were able to settle in for a good night’s sleep before training commenced the following morning.
Day 1: I drove by my lonesome in the (not-quite-wee hours of the) morning (but it was still dark-ish) and was one of the first to arrive at the designated dojo. I had left a bit early so I wouldn’t be late even if I got lost (a girl’s gotta plan for these things). I walked into the dojo feeling excited and yet completely out of my element. Once everyone had arrived, Tim and his instructors introduced themselves and conducted some general housekeeping. They assured us that they were here to help us, teach us how to keep ourselves safe, and wanted us to feel comfortable. Truly, they could not have been nicer.
The first half of my day was spent learning warm up exercises (such as pummeling and over-unders) and other very basic Jiu Jitsu moves and practicing them in pairs, continuously changing partners. Picture a mat-covered dojo filled with thirty women between the ages of 20 and 60, all at different levels of fitness, grappling and rolling around on the ground barefoot in various combinations of sweats, spandex, tank tops, and T-shirts. There were a few casual athletes, a police officer, moms, and even some grandmothers. Most women chose to forego any type of makeup and it was messy hair day all around.
One thing about groundwork (literally, grappling on the ground) is that you are using muscles in every part of your body, especially your core. The downside of which is, for those of us who have weaker cores (perhaps, for example, due to childbirth and a failure to “bounce back” – such as yours truly), you constantly feel like you have to pee, especially if you are working certain muscles harder than you are used to working them…which I definitely was. I was therefore making regular trips to the bathroom to make doubly sure my bladder was completely empty since, despite my attempts to curb my thirst, I was still chugging water because it was quite a workout. With thirty women and only two bathroom stalls, yes, we did take turn invading the men’s room…my apologies to all of the men who suffered for it that week and my most sincere thanks to you and your chivalry.
On top of my fear of involuntarily de-hydrating in the middle of a grappling session, my brain was busy trying to remember whatever technique we had just learned (and all the ones we learned before that), as well as the level of force I had to use with my next opponent, which changed every couple of minutes. Ten percent of power is different from a twenty-year-old athlete who runs marathons than for a grandmother with a shoulder injury. It’s even more different from an experienced veteran who, not only has been in probably thousands of real fights, but also has a hundred pounds of muscle on me. How did I notice this? We got to take turns rotating in with Tim and his co-trainers, which was beyond awesome, because they were all subject-matter experts. However, it also really threw me for a loop because being in such close proximity to someone with such a vastly different body type than what we had been practicing on made my mind go blank. Most of the women were hesitant to invade your personal space and, even when they weren’t, their physical presence wasn’t that imposing. The same cannot be said for all of the instructors, who each had a commanding presence and were, by far, in much better shape than ninety-nine percent of anyone I’ve run into at the gym. I therefore struggled to remember the basic steps to not feel like a complete idiot because I truly did want to learn everything they had to offer me during my brief stint under their instruction (pun not intended). One of my favorite take-aways from the course was learning how to do a “technical stand-up” …seriously, google it. It works your whole body and has a very practical application.
By noon, we were all sweaty and famished. The considerate instructor that he is, Tim told us to be sure to consume “at least 2,000 calories” for lunch. Well, if the instructor said so, who was I to argue? My small group went to Chipotle, where I got a carnita quesadilla with guacamole…and some more caffeine-loaded Diet Coke.
The afternoon was dedicated to firearms training, which gave us a reprieve from the gym in exchange for an outdoor gun range. Keep in mind, this was in Las Vegas in January and it was not sunny… we even got rained on a bit. Every participant had been required to bring her own gun, so most of us were already familiar with our weapons. After the introductory safety briefing and reminders not to shoot ourselves, each other, or the instructors, the rangemaster began our tutelage of some basic drills and essentially making sure that if we ever had to use a gun, we could at least shoot in the vicinity of our targets without any collateral damage. One of the most distracting aspects was that my hands were very cold…yes, I could have worn gloves, but I find it difficult to shoot in them.
We were encouraged to hydrate for the afternoon session as well. This remained a catch-22 because, although I wasn’t exerting my core muscles as much as I had in the morning, I still had to trek down to one of the two lovely port-a-potties each time I needed to relieve myself and I didn’t want to miss any part of the training…plus I was afraid that my gun, magazines, or both might fall into the Bog of Eternal Stench each time I pulled my pants on or off. Thus, I was paranoid-ingly (no, it’s not a word, but I’m using it anyway because I think it should be) careful to keep my equipment away from the commode. Luckily, there was ample toilet paper and hand sanitizer.
But we weren’t finished yet. Once we left the range, class continued at the local Wal-Mart to work on our observational skills. By this time, it was dark. Half of the group stayed in the parking lot to scrutinize not just the people we saw, but all the vehicles as well. We were challenged to articulate everything we observed about each. For example, were we looking at an old pickup truck with a “God Bless America” bumper sticker and a veteran license plate? Or a beat-up minivan with fast food containers strewn all over the floor and a “Who Rescued Who” sticker with the picture of a chihuahua on the trunk? We did not see any spotless BMWs that had been recently detailed…after all, we were at Wal-Mart in Las Vegas. Where would you most likely find a weapon? What looked out of place? Why?
Then it was my group’s turn to go inside Wal-Mart to people-watch and observe a lot of the same things that we did outside. What looked out of place? Did anyone say hello to you? Can you find someone shoplifting? Who is watching who and why? Look how many people are oblivious. I happened to be somewhat familiar with this exercise as my husband never shuts off the part of his brain that constantly scans for threats…although admittedly I am much less observant than he is.
That evening when I got back to our hotel room, my husband greeted me at the door to see me sporting blue lips and half drenched with rain. He pushed me straight into a hot shower and, after stopping for a deliciously hefty calorie refill and a few more gallons of water, we promptly went to a sporting goods store to buy me some thermal long johns and nifty hand warmers. We then went to bed as early as possible so I could get up and do what I suspected would be a lot more of even harder work outside my comfort zone the following day.
To be continued…
Original Post 11/2020
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