Two-Time Olympic Gold Medalist Kayla Harrison Didn’t Win a Tournament During Her First Two Years in Judo

The path to Olympic glory rarely begins with triumph. For Kayla Harrison, the two-time Olympic judo champion and current UFC champion, her journey started with repeated defeat—a humbling beginning that mirrors the struggles of other combat sports legends.

Harrison’s introduction to judo came at age six through an unlikely chain of events. After watching a karate commercial on TV and attempting to emulate what she saw around the house, her mother—who had taken judo as a self-defense course—enrolled her at a local dojo.

While Harrison fell in love with the discipline immediately, competitive success didn’t follow. Her first tournament appearance lasted just 15 seconds before she found herself flat on her back. What followed was two years of consistent losses with not a single tournament victory to show for her efforts.

From that first day, Harrison was hooked. “From the very beginning I was just obsessed like I loved… bowing learning how to fall like learning how to throw the boys like choking. I just thought it was so cool and I was like I stopped playing other sports immediately.”

Her early competitive career was far from smooth. “I went to my first competition and like 15 seconds in I was flat on my back,” she admitted. “I didn’t win a tournament for the first two years of doing judo.” When asked what kept her going, Harrison’s answer was simple: “I’m stubborn.”

Everything shifted when Harrison was eight years old. She won her first tournament and stood atop the podium with a trophy nearly as tall as she was. That moment crystallized her future. In a podcast she clarified:

“I was like, ‘Some people want to be doctors, some people want to be lawyers. Like I want to [throw] people on their head and I want to be the best in the world at it,'”

Harrison recalled.

The commitment that followed was extraordinary. Her family relocated to be closer to a more competitive club, requiring a 45-minute drive each way. By age 12, she was training twice daily—waking before dawn to run or lift weights before middle school, then training again after classes ended.

Harrison’s story of early competitive failures isn’t unique among combat sports elites. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu legend Marcus “Buchecha” Almeida—who would go on to become a 13-time world champion—faced an even more daunting start to his competitive career.

Buchecha lost his first 10 tournaments, all in the first round. His debut match at age 16 came against Roberto Satoshi, the reigning juvenile world champion. After exhausting himself within minutes, Buchecha was methodically defeated.

The pattern continued through nine more competitions. The most crushing setback came when Buchecha built a commanding 6-0 lead, secured his opponent’s back, yet still lost after a failed submission attempt and subsequent reversal. He left the mat in tears, telling his coach he was done with competition.

His coach’s response was simple:

“You can be weak and quit or you can go back to the gym on Monday. It’s on you.”

Like Harrison, Buchecha chose persistence.

For Harrison, the years of dedication paid off in ways that transcended her early struggles. Under the guidance of her childhood hero Jimmy Pedro—who became her coach—Harrison developed into an elite judoka. She won gold at the 2012 London Olympics despite entering as the eighth seed then successfully defended her title at the 2016 Rio Olympics.

Her path wasn’t without obstacles. A severe knee injury that went misdiagnosed for a year required complete reconstruction in 2013. She returned to competition just nine months post-surgery, a testament to her resilience.

Both Harrison’s and Buchecha’s stories dismantle the myth of prodigies who dominate from their first competition. Their early losses weren’t signs of inadequate talent but rather necessary chapters in building the mental fortitude required for sustained excellence.

For young BJJ and judo competitors facing early defeats, these stories offer crucial perspective: the greatest champions often begin not with natural dominance but with the stubborn refusal to quit.