Renowned competitor and coach Lachlan Giles presents a compelling case against the necessity of strength and conditioning for competitive success in BJJ. His perspective cuts through the elaborate fitness protocols that have become synonymous with elite BJJ preparation, offering a refreshingly pragmatic approach that prioritizes technical mastery over physical optimization.
Giles draws upon perhaps the most powerful example in the sport’s history to support his position.
“We’ve had people like the greatest of all time, Marcelo Garcia, has basically didn’t do strength and conditioning. So I think that’s proof that you don’t have to do it,”
he explains. This reference to Garcia, widely considered one of the most technically proficient grapplers ever to compete, serves as compelling evidence that physical preparation, while potentially beneficial, isn’t the determining factor in achieving greatness.
The Australian black belt’s philosophy stems from his own competitive experience and a deep understanding of what truly determines match outcomes.
“I very rarely did it or when I was a bit younger I did a bit more but I sort of stopped doing it partly because I don’t enjoy it,”
Giles admits with characteristic honesty. However, his reasoning extends beyond personal preference to a more fundamental question about resource allocation and training priorities.
Central to Giles’ argument is the concept of opportunity cost in training preparation.
“The more you do of that the more it takes away from your jiu-jitsu training,”
he observes, highlighting the finite nature of an athlete’s time and energy. This perspective suggests that hours spent in the weight room could potentially yield greater returns when invested in technical drilling, sparring, and tactical development.
Giles’ approach is grounded in analytical thinking about competitive setbacks and their underlying causes.
“My philosophy is always, you know, I never lost a match that didn’t have a technical answer,”
he states, demonstrating a mindset that seeks solutions through skill refinement rather than physical enhancement. This philosophy was reinforced during his experience at the prestigious ADCC championship, where he faced defeat against elite competition.
Reflecting on his loss at the event, Giles provides specific insight into his analytical approach:
“I don’t know if being stronger was the answer. It was just keeping my elbow a bit closer to my knee or making sure it didn’t separate from my knee. I wouldn’t have got armbar.”
The perspective gains additional credibility when considering the broader landscape of preparation. Similar to how Olympic judoka Travis Stevens challenged conventional wisdom about nutrition’s role in competitive success, Giles questions whether the elaborate strength and conditioning systems that characterize modern BJJ culture translate to meaningful competitive advantages.
However, Giles maintains a balanced view that acknowledges the potential benefits of physical preparation.
“I would say the majority of high-level athletes do so it’s probably a good idea,”
he concedes, recognizing that his approach may not be universal. He further admits that strength can provide tactical advantages:
“Being stronger means you can make a move work when it shouldn’t even. So that obviously has advantages in your implementation in competition.”
This nuanced position distinguishes between necessity and advantage, suggesting that while strength and conditioning might enhance performance it shouldn’t be considered essential for competitive success.
