This morning's class focused on knee on belly. Then at night, Christy focused on some mount escape/mount retention stuff ... to my pleasant surprise, I was able to bust out of Leila's mount a few times. Not sure if that's because she was giving me only 50% resistance but probably so. Nonetheless I took it and ran with it. Should have quit right there, though. Instead, for the next positional sparring drill (back mount) I picked Ian.
Ian is a doughty blue belt I have nicknamed "The Terminator." In social settings, he's funny, animated, full of personality. On the mats, at least with me, he's straightfaced, serious, and unemotional. I took his back 3 times; 3 times he shucked me off like I was lint and either got mount or at least escaped to a scramble. He took my back 3 times; 3 times he choked me with alacrity. Back and forth, without a word on his part. I wanted to ask his advice, but sensed my silence was more appreciated, so I just tried to pay attention to what he was doing and mimic it. Epic fail, but at least I tried. When we finished, my jaw was sore from biting my lapel (at least he only Fredson choked me once!) and I was so frustrated that I landed a satisfying kick on one of the heavy bags when I got off the mat. Wasn't personal-- Ian was doing his job. I just wasn't getting it. Christy commiserated and offered a few words, but it's just one of the many things on my list that needs work.
At least Vidush, another bluebelt, was sympathetic. Apparently we are both stymied by Ian. I wish someday someone would speak of me in such reverent terms for something other than my baking.