Your game, as an object
Five years on the mat, on one card.
JiuJiu reads the moves you have collected and the levels you have confirmed, and renders you. A rating, six numbers, and the belt you actually hold. It is the one thing in the app built to leave the app.
The catalogue
A catalogue you fill, not a journal you write.
You are not staring at a blank page waiting for you to type into it. The whole vocabulary of the sport is already there, locked, and every plate you turn on is a fact about you rather than a note you wrote.
185 / 408 · a purple belt, five and a half years in. Thin on takedowns and turtle, heavy in closed guard — which is a true thing about somebody, and it fell out of the log rather than being claimed.
The plate
A card that visibly turns on.
Level 0 draws no belt at all. Not a grey belt, nothing. A locked plate is the paper itself inside a hairline; a collected one is a leaf mounted on it, stamped with the date you learned the move and banded with that technique's own rank.
That absence is the largest single step in the scale, and it is the whole reason a locked catalogue is worth shipping. The green dot means mat time has made a technique eligible. It does not promote it. You do.
Plate 075 · Armbar from Guard
Every move you know has a rank.
Not you. The move. Each of the 408 techniques carries its own belt and climbs white to black on the mat time you put behind it. Scroll and watch one do it.
Level I
You saw it
One logged session turns the plate on and stamps the date you learned it. The card is a leaf on the paper now, and it never goes back to being an empty slot.
eligible after1logged sessionLevel II
You learned it
Eight nights with the move in them. It is not yours yet, but you can be handed it in class and know where your hands go.
eligible after8logged sessionsLevel III
You used it
Twenty-four sessions. The first rung that means something in a live round rather than in a drill, which is why the curve steepens here.
eligible after24logged sessionsLevel IV
You taught it
Sixty. You can put a white belt through it and answer the question they ask halfway, which is a different thing from being able to hit it.
eligible after60logged sessionsLevel V
You mastered it
One hundred and fifty logged sessions, which is roughly three thousand physical repetitions. The curve is exponential because mastery is. Most of your catalogue will never get here, and that is the point.
eligible after150logged sessionsAnd the rule under all of it
The app never promotes it. You do.
Mat time only makes a technique eligible. A green dot appears and a tap confirms it. Nothing levels behind your back, because reps are not the same thing as proficiency and only you were in the room.
Plate 067 · Scissor Sweep
Every plate keeps its own record.
First learned, times logged, last drilled, and the note you left yourself. The ladder beside it is the same I to V the card climbs, and the green rung is the app saying this one is ready when you are.
- First learned
- Times logged
- Last drilled


Your career
Tracked by you, not guessed at.
Record a promotion and it joins a rail whose gaps are drawn to scale, so the three years you spent at blue look like three years. Above the rank you hold, the rail runs on in dashes. A solid line ending in a node has a destination; dashes ending in nothing say how long you have been here and nothing whatever about when the next belt comes.
- Drawn to scale
- Newest first
- Dashes, not a target


Where you stand
The screen it opens on.
Your next session beside your last one, the shape of your game as a radar, and a year of training days underneath as a density grid. None of it was typed in. All of it fell out of the log.


Fifteen seconds
The keyboard never opens.
The sheet opens already dated and marked gi and advanced. Tap the moves you drilled from the chips it knows you have been working on, then save. Nothing is required, not even a technique. The night you rolled and could not name a thing is still a night on the mat.
- Opens on today
- Chips, not typing
- Nothing required


The record
Every night you ever trained.
Each one keeps what was in it: the techniques, the minutes, the rounds, how hard it was. The tab counts them and the chips filter by gi or by class type. A night is still a night years later.
- Techniques
- Minutes
- Rounds
- Intensity


Four refusals
The best things about it are the things it won’t do.
Refusal 01
It will not promote you.
Logged mat time makes a technique eligible. A dot appears; a tap confirms it. The app offers and it never fires on its own, because a rep count is not proficiency and only you were in the room.
User-confirmed
Never automatic
One stored field
Refusal 02
It will not guess your next belt.
Belt is recorded, never predicted. No countdown, no percentage toward black, no estimate of when your coach will call your name. The app knows exactly what you told it and declines to extrapolate.
Recorded
Not predicted
No countdown
Refusal 03
It will not send your log to us.
No account. No feed. No leaderboard. No analytics, no ad network, no server of ours anywhere. iCloud sync is the one route off the phone, it is off until you turn it on, and it mirrors into your own private database under your Apple Account — which we cannot read.
No account
No server of ours
Export any time
Refusal 04
It will not lose your session.
Every change is written to an append-only journal on disk and flushed before it is committed. Kill the app mid-entry and the next launch replays it back. The whole value of this thing is that it is years long.
Journalled
Flushed first
Replayed on launch
JiuJiu is on the App Store.
Version 1.1.0, for iPhone. All 408 techniques are in it, locked until you log them. If a technique name is wrong or a move is missing, that is still the email I most want.