Extreme Knife Defences Seminar

My review of Krav Maga Midlands' seminar with Marcin Reszka on 13th February.

The Investment

In late 2001 I snapped the anterior crusciate ligament in my left knee. I was sparring with a kickboxing instructor named Bertram who was basically kicking my ass. When I tried a roundhouse kick,  I kept my entire left foot on the floor instead of balancing on the ball of it, and the strain snapped the ACL. There was a "crunch" noise and I signalled to Bertram to stop beating me, then hobbled off the mat in order to soothe my sore appendage.

Next day the knee was horrendously tender and swollen to the size of a small grapefruit. I didn't know what was wrong and simply waited for the swelling to go down and then strapped the leg up and carried on. Months later I was told that I had almost certainly snapped the ACL and while I didn't think much of it, as the knee was 'manageable' and the pain almost non-existent, I found out in 2004 that this was a much bigger deal than I'd imagined.

I applied for the City of London police Special Constabulary (volunteer cops) and was rejected on medical grounds due to declaring the knee injury. The force medical officer was polite and to the point, and said that if I'd waited to apply in 2005 it wouldn't matter as new laws were coming in that would make it wrong for them to reject me on these grounds. However...now the old rules applied and she reluctantly had to say no to my application. I asked if I could be allowed an appeal, if I could get the knee repaired. She said yes.

So I went back to the doctor and began the long process of consultation, MRI scan and visits to a specialist. After several months I was booked in for an operation and spent the night in a hospital bed, in preparation for my early morning op, kept awake by two old men squabbling in the adjacent beds. Morning came and the anaesthetist arrived to prep me for my time under the scalpel. Then he told me to put on a backless gown and wait. An hour or so later the consultant surgeon arrived (a man I had only glimpsed from afar up to this point and had always been seen by his underlings). He breezily asked me to swing my legs up on the bed. I'd had the foresight to keep my undies on, despite being told not to, which was a good job as he was with two junior, female doctors. To make matters worse, one was very pretty. He then proceeded to twist and manipulate my lower leg, regularly asking "Does this hurt?" When he realised it didn't he then said "Leg's healthy. You don't need the operation. You can go home."

Overjoyed, I sped home and sent the forms off to the COLP medical officer who then accepted me as healthy, I got interviewed, accepted and joined in October 2004

However....

It turned out that far from what I naively believed had been a case of 'self healing', the leg muscles around my knees had simply grown bigger due to the amount of cycling I was regularly doing in London. The ACL was still broken but, like having a strong set of core muscles in your belly, all that exercise meant that the knees were now having the majority of the strain on the surviving ligament, dealt with by the increase in muscle.

Years later and the knee still twinged. Like tectonic plates grinding into each other, the knee cap would rub into other bits and acidic, sharp pain would shoot up my leg. I was rejected by both the Territorial Army and the RAF Reservists on my paper applications, without even being seen, solely due to the ACL damage. Both said "Get it repaired, then reapply after 18 months."

In Krav training I would have to wear not one but two knee supports on that leg and also take a shit load of painkillers after gradings, due to the soreness and swelling after 4 hours of beasting, with at least 30 minutes of full on sparring to top it all off. I couldn't sit on my heels when I knelt down. I was advised in the strongest possible terms by a knee specialist that I NOT go jogging. The impact would cause inflammation to the knee and put me back. Cycling was fine but running, which I love, was out.

This year I decided what I really want to do is be fully fit again. I want to run, jump and twist without fear of having to open the Ibuprofen. I want to grade in Krav Maga without fearing that someone will boot me in the kneecap and send me howling to the floor. I want above all to be a Fast Defence instructor with Wayne Hubball in 2016.

I went for another MRI scan on my knee a few months ago after referral from my local doctor. I then got to Warwick Hospital to see a consultant. They put me on a waiting list and last week told me that my operation to repair the ACL will happen on the 25th of August 2015. Convalescence time is 6 months, meaning no Krav for that entire time.

This dictates that I will miss both chances to retest my P5 exam in October and December. I will miss shit loads of training and also the seminars run nationally and by my own club Krav MagaMidlands. Guys who are currently P3 will be probably taking their P5 the same time as me. Guys who are currently P4 could well be taking G1.

But....the light at the end of the tunnel is that I will come back fitter, healthier and with more endurance. Things I cannot do now without pain and physical instability will be much easier to perform. I will be able to fight without the paranoia of wondering if my knee will get hurt during the kicks and punches, takedowns and ground work.

It's an investment and one I wish I'd taken a long time ago

Short term gain gives short term pleasure. One thing Krav Maga has taught me is that sometimes you need to be patient and put your ego and desires to one side in order to be all you can be.

Kid Kida- KMG Global Article

This is an article** I wrote for KMG Global HQ as a guest blogger. It went online last week. Click the photo for the article.

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** Article was written last June. Kimberley Warwick is now a G1 instructor with Krav Maga Midlands (UK) and teaching Women Only classes. Info via this link.

Being HARD

At the schools I attended as a child there was a sliding scale of being "hard".

That tiresome machismo that boys adopt after a certain age, became apparent to me when I was about 9. At my first Primary school there was no real posing or acting like a caricature of your favourite superhero. You simply did your thing and had your friends and just got on with it. We had our "top dogs" but they held that position through popularity amongst their peers. There was no need to pretend, as our playtimes were full of "pretend" anyway. Grease, Saturday Night Fever and the irritating TV show Happy Days were stupendously popular when I was a kid. One lunchtime the two most popular boys in my form, Ryan Perry and Jason Fitzmaurice (we didn't hang out with girls unless forced to...girls were smelly and stupid and into sissy things like skipping) got the rest of us together and gave themselves and us nicknames before we "got on our scrambling motorbikes". Jason was the name giver and pointed to himself and went "Fonze" then to Ryan and went "Grease". These were the top names you could possibly have in an era of Richie Cunningham and Greased Lightning*** (which made us giggle as it had the words "shit" and "tit" in it...and was played on the radio a lot). Ryan acknowledged the given name with a smile and a nod, and Jason then named the rest of us.

I got to be "Spud".

Seriously, Spud?!!

We then pretended to be holding handlebars and ran up and down the playground making motorbike noises. This incident was notable for two reasons. One, it was the  only time I ever remember seeing all the boys in my class play a game together without teachers organising it. Two, I left as I thought it was boring and a few minutes later tried to come back but was told I couldn't. The club was closed to Spud now he'd resigned.

When I got to what was then called class M1 (fuck knows what it is now. That stood for Middle 1, so I was 8 going on 9) I noticed that the 11 year olds were acting different to how we'd acted for so long. Now we were in the M section of school we got to use a different playground. One for older kids who got to wear their own clothes instead of uniform (if they wanted to, although the Headmistress was against it). A certain cockiness, surliness and adoption of superfluous gestures was adopted by them. Something that I picked up on very quickly was that the older kids didn't smile a lot. They were, it transpired, trying to look cool or "hard".

A catch phrase of the time was to say "Who let you out?" if someone did something stupid or you just wanted to curtail an argument by putting them down. I once said this to a kid in my class who was friends with a surly, older boy who snapped back "I did, because he didn't belong in there."

Again, my over analytical brain was thinking that the original line about being "let out" was only an insult and not meant to be taken literally. That follow up didn't make sense.

Basically, being older meant you had to be, or at least pretend to be "hard."

At Secondary school the regime was entrenched. Boys had to either be able to fight or put on a persona of "hardness" in order to avoid getting picked on or bullied. If you came across as "hard" then you could call everyone's bluff until one of the genuinely hard kids offered you out.

So...ingrained in me and a lot of little boys as they grew up was that you had to be hard or, failing that, pretend your arse off in order to look like it.

Boys don't cry (a friend of my father once said how great it was when I pointed out that I hadn't cried in over a year), boys don't show too much emotion, boys can fight, boys like football, etc, etc.

Boys had to put on a facade of utter hardness and invulnerability to emotions that only puffs, fairies and girls revelled in.

Realising this wasn't in itself a revelation. What is eye opening however is just how much I carried this attitude with me into my adult life

The swagger when I walk. The poker face when I enter a crowded pub. The cold face when I'm stuck in traffic (countered by the "rage face" when I feel like having a go).

Despite my fondness of animals and children that I don't attempt to hide I, like many men, believe I have to look "hard" even now. Old habits die hard, especially when they are so ingrained in us that we don't even know we're doing them. All that swagger and false bravado was nothing more than an attempt to put on a face that I fundamentally thought I had to.

In Krav Maga I've been told that the best way to defuse aggression is to avoid it. So, if you can walk away from a fight, then do it. If you are in a road rage incident then drive away or just don't lose your cool in the first place. About 6 months ago a rude Scottish guy chased me up the street in his 4x4 because I'd stuck my finger up at him in traffic. I looked in the rearview mirror to find him gesturing furiously for me to pull over and get out. So I did.

Not to be "hard" but because I was genuinely pissed off and angry. This burst his bubble and he simply sat in his car moaning about my lack of road etiquette but making no attempt to get out and confront me...like he'd been telling me he wanted to do.

He felt he had to look "hard"...along with millions of other guys.

The breakthrough in self perception has basically made me see that I don't have to hide my emotions or try and be tougher than I really am.

If you're a man, just think of the times when you've cried and felt ashamed for doing it. The only acceptable occasions for a blub are a close relative's funeral; at your children's birth or when watching footage of old men attending Armistice day on television. Society sets rules on just how much emotion we can feel as men, and tells us we have to fake as much as we're lacking.

To pretend is relatively easy. To be yourself is what's truly "hard".

On the Bench

After dislocating my left little finger by trying to stop a stomp kick with my hand I paid a visit to the fracture clinic..who signed me off for 3 weeks from active duties at work. This means I'm inside and not outdoors and am limited as to how much I can physically do. Awesome.

The yin to the yang is that I also can't train at Krav either.

Deciding to put a positive spin on this, I went along to the session last Tuesday, solely to watch the Sparring class.

I'd had suspicions that my sparring was lacking so thought half an hour sat watching, free from stress, fatigue or a boot in my groin would help me see just what I need to watch out for and improve upon.

As the main class filed out to go home, the four guys who'd elected to stay for Sparring got kitted up in the bomb disposal vests and got going.

I was partnered with a big Polish guy the night I busted my finger (he didn't dislocate it, that was in the "3 Vs 1" melee at the end) and he was all over me, even knocking me down on the floor a couple of times. This time I watched him fight and he's a good fighter. He waits for you to come to him, which I picked up on last week, however what I hadn't spotted is that if you get too close he takes a couple of hits by protecting his face with his hands...and then follows up with a vicious hook to the side of your head.

As the group changed partners I watched the styles they fought in and a few things became apparent that I hadn't spotted before. First of all, those that landed punches usually didn't telegraph their moves, something I do. Also, those that didn't get repeatedly walloped in the head had their hands up and their chins down, something I fail to do regularly.

I had originally thought that the list of "wounds" picked up on the P4 grading last March sounded badass (lost contact lens, lost gum shield, chipped tooth) but now I realise it's because my guard was down and I wasn't striking properly. My kicking is weak, mainly due to lack of flexibility (Devil's Claw tablets from Holland & Barret and a few "Yoga for Dummies" YouTube videos are helping that) but also stamina and cardio training issues.

For one night it was beneficial to just sit and see how other people fight, without the emotions and adrenalin (not to mention sweat) that come with being part of a class but not being able to see what's going on except for the guy facing you.

The Eternal Practitioner

Throughout life there are different sets of responsibilities that slot into place as we walk through the process known as "growing up."

At about 5 you have to go to school, which is a huge change from hanging out with mummy or daddy and learning the rules of how to "play" (i.e. the advent of having to share your toys and say 'please' and 'thank you'). You may later on have a younger brother or sister to look after. You will be tasked to "set an example" to the younger kids at school. You have to tidy your room. Etc.

As you move up in years you may have a part time job (in my day the ignominious delights of a paper round) and become a Prefect at school (assuming that they still guilt older kids into being unpaid supervisors for younger ones).

Your responsibilities mount up as you move ever onwards in years.

In adulthood most people find a niche that fits the life of an adult. They form relationships, make lasting friendships and get a job that pays enough to set up a mortgage. They marry, have children and then settle into the life of a fully fledged "grown up". Even later in life they pass their knowledge and wisdom (or lack of) on to the next generation of grand children.

Life can basically be split into 3 levels. Practitioner, Graduate and Expert.

At Practitioner level we are learning. While some things are easy to pick up; such as walking, talking and riding a bike. Others aren't quite so simple such as maths, science or how to tie your shoelaces quickly. However we eventually learn and move on.

Graduate skills are based more on using the Practitioner stuff as a grounding. From basic science we move into the worlds of physics and chemistry and biology. The ability to speak is used to leapfrog into the skill of being able to express yourself through writing or learn a second language. Skills in social interaction will lead to finding a sexual partner and maybe having children. Being aware of danger will be used to become daily awareness of personal space, traffic and hazards. The lists go on.

By the time we reach the Expert levels of life, we are grounded in a full knowledge of Practitioner and Graduate skill sets. The earlier levels rarely need to be refreshed (although they do need to be, now and then) and we can pass on our judgments and experience to those who came into the world later on.

I am approaching a P5 grading, probably in December at the P camp that Krav Maga Global are holding.

There is a part of me that wants to rest on my laurels once this is achieved and not go any further. After all, that lovely patch with its 5 bars would look much more eye catching than a G patch with only one bar...wouldn't it?

Not really...but it's tempting to remain the highest grade of Practitioner than become the lowest level of Graduate. The reasons are a mixture of fear, foreboding but mainly the knowledge that I'll have to actually start taking some responsibility in my life as I move from the P levels to levels where I will not only be eligible to take an instructor's course (regrading pending of course) but attend G camp. The primary worry is that by stepping into big boys' pants I will be obliged to actually act like a Graduate, rather than remain an eternal Practitioner.

Sometimes growing up can be scary.

Bring it on.

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New Book Out...The Sunder of the Octagon

My 7th book (8th f you count the Spanish translation of The Cockroach Effect) is out next week.

THE SUNDER OF THE OCTAGON: Tales of Alegria Book II is the sequel to THE CATASTROPHE OF THE EMERALD QUEEN and is available in Kindle and paperback versions. Aimed at children aged 10+ it can also be enjoyed by older readers**

The continuing story of the magical world of Alegria.

Book has fight sequences inspired by Krav Maga. It also has a character named Alaskadie who is based upon Expert level 3 KMG instructor Jacek Walczak.

Also has big anti-bullying themes and I have been visiting High schools in the county to publicise the book and talk to the kids about my experiences at school in the 1980s and how they inspired me to write these books.

Signed copies will be available from me on September 14th at Demoncon 8 in Maidstone, Kent, UK. The cover artist Anneka Reay and the illustrator Paul Rose will also be there to sign copies and offer sketches and prints.

Also at Leamington Comic Con on Saturday October 18th.

Spread the word....

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** (like a certain other series of books involving a small boy with glasses and a magic wand, or the one about that pansy of a vampire who goes to High school, wears sensible jumpers and drives a Golf...I mean THAT'S not a vampire. Ever seen "Let The Right One In"...now THAT'S a vampire! Mess with a vampire's loved one and they rip your head off and drop it in a swimming pool. They don't get out of their Golf in their sensible V-neck jumper and "glare" at the 6 guys about to rape their girlfriend. Hunger Games is good though. Katniss Everdeen is a badass. Think I'm ranting now. Need to stop.)

Shakesperian Nights

Krav Maga Midlands

Night Parks Scenarios

Seminar No. 4

My review of our seminar on July 18th in the RSC park in Stratford-upon-Avon.

Written for my club Krav Maga Midlands.

What fun we had!!!

(click photo)

Photos from Eyal Yanilov World Tour

KMG 40th Anniversary Tour

June 1st 2014

 Hengrove Leisure Centre, Bristol UK

(click photo for link)

The Bonus Material

Like a decent Blu-Ray, Krav Maga has a lot of supplemental material thrown in. Not only do I now feel more confident physically but I've recently realised just how much “good” stuff I get thrown in for free.

For example...

1. Feeling useful

I like to feel useful. I like to feel I've helped someone. I also like to reassure those who look like they need it. At inductions this is entirely possible due to the newbies that turn up. You know the scene. Non club t-shirt, no groin guard and so queasy they look like they are about to audition for X Factor. A simple introduction and handshake seems to be appreciated and I try to partner newbies during the initial part of the lesson (at inductions with KMM we focus on the basic strikes for a while). I also attempt to be reassuring. Something I used to do and I see other people do if they're new, is to apologise whenever they hit their partner or successfully put them on the floor.

E.g. During “try and touch your partner's chest while they try and prevent it” you can hear a lot of embarrassed “Sorrys” and “You OK?” when someone gets through the other's guard. Also during headlock releases you can see the looks of unease on inductionees as bodies thud to the floor after having their faces grabbed. Again, being reassuring to those who aren't used to this can work wonders and put them at ease.

Best way to some this up would be “Feel free to kick my groin, it's protected. If you aim for my leg to try and be nice then that's gonna hurt!”

2. Self confidence

This gets a boost due to the longevity of me doing Krav for 3 years. If you spar with someone you know is better than you, and even ONCE manage to land a hard roundhouse or right hook...then you feel great. I've never been a fighter and being able to face guys much better than me and, win or lose, walk away after touching gloves with your opponent it makes you feel much taller. Feeling that the techniques are coming together into a coherent pattern that you have incorporated into your muscle memory is cause for jubilation.

This ripples out to other areas of my life so I am less agitated in social or even work situations as I feel I can try more things and give them a good go.

3. Paranoia Killer

I've always been a bit paranoid. Currently take Propranalol (try saying that drunk) in mild dosages to combat anxiety. It works wonders but a mixture of the beta blocker and Krav have made me realise that the world isn't out to try and hurt or upset me and, as Imi Lichtenfeld once said, “so that one may walk in peace.” Being able to walk down the main street without feeling anxious, nervous or (at night when the drunks are out like something from The Walking Dead) scared...is a great feeling.

4. Ego Compacter

Another thing I've always had is a big ego. Not simply for self promotion but the desire that if something happened that was unjust or unfair then I HAD to do something. I joined the police in 2004 because I wanted to be a hero (and resigned in 2008 after finding out that they wanted anything BUT heroes in the force). I would see injustice and wade in. Like Liam Neeson tracking his kidnapped daughter in the movie Taken, I didn't have a “next step”. I'd simply wade in, with almost no fighting ability, an average size body and an ego that wanted to crush all bullies and perpetrators of injustice.

After doing Krav for over 36 months I can now weigh up a situation and walk away or try and defuse it verbally...without feeling like a pansy. I recently had an argument with a friend of mine who had drunk 6 bottles of Greek raki and was telling the girl I was dating that she “deserved better than Lance.”

Attempts to tell him to back off were met with the response “you want to get into it with me? Coz it won't last long!” and due to my obvious anger, my date got upset. I stayed calm and vowed to speak to my mate when he was sober. Next day he had no memory of the incident and was embarrassed and apologetic. Had my older self been there, there would have been at the very least some pushing and shoving, followed by the two hulking sons of the Greek owner of the pool bar we were drinking in, breaking it up and asking one or both of us to leave.

Krav is about avoiding the confrontation unless necessary. Best comparison was an incident 10 years ago in Moldova when a local guy insulted the woman I was with, Helen, and called her a whore for drinking with foreigners. I was very drunk and followed him into a room (where about 4 of his mates were waiting for him) and demanded he say sorry to Helen. Next thing the barman took my gently by the arm and pulled me away. I felt that honour was satisfied but Helen said to me the next day “I wasn't bothered by him. He was just some stupid guy. Moldavian men sometimes carry knives or even guns. You could have got yourself killed and for what? To prove you are better than him?”

Avoid the fight, don't let your ego put you in the morgue.

5. Fitness

Only after a month in Crete do I realise just how easy it is to get unfit VERY quickly. First two days of my 4 week holiday I was drinking and smoking and not gettng hangovers. Within a week I was sleeping all day and swearing at daylight ("God's Flashlight" as I call post drinking summer sun beams). Getting back into Krav afterwards was hard but now I am back on course and can remember that wonderful feeling of feeling fit. My day job means I do a LOT of walking but cardio fitness is another bag entirely. Being fit enough to survive a P4 grading (see here for that story) is a great feeling and when my body feels strong, I feel I can achieve almost anything. 

For Granted

Something that I've always known, but kind of forgot, was that fitness is something you constantly have to sustain. Unless you're 18 years old you can't retain a six pack stomach and big pecs unless you strive for them.

Recently I spent a month in Crete. I drank heavily, partied regularly and ate lots of saturated fat, red meat and generally unhealthy but delicious stuff. I also drank at least 5 pints of lager a day (and usually more) and did a ridiculous amount of shots.

I'm not boasting about any of this but getting back into Krav Maga has been tortuous to say the very least. I deliberately left it for nearly a week before I went back and felt like shit all through my first session.

The following night I went to a seminar my club was holding and felt a bit better, although my concentration was wavering. Last night I went again and while I managed to get stuck in, my breathing felt like acid coming up through my oesophagus and when I tried an abdominal exercise I found my core stability had been shot to shit by the lack of exercise in the previous weeks.

Someone told me that if you are at a reasonable or high level of fitness it will take ONE MONTH of training to regain every WEEK that you didn't train.

Before I went away there were several lovely moments of Kravdom that made me feel like a warrior king.

For example...

At the Solihull class the instructor Al, got us to do a cardio based warm up exercise where one bit was inclined push ups. I did more and finished faster than ANYONE else on my group of 5, even though every other lad in the team was at least 20 years younger than me.

Another time a young bloke turned up for an induction and had to leave to throw up halfway through due to being unfit. I asked him his age and smiled to myself when he said he was 25, eighteen years my junior.

So...all that wonderful fitness and cardio based badassery has now gone for a holiday of its own. While I can still fight I tire much quicker, sweat much more profusely and my chest burns with a Sahara like intensity once heavy moving and striking gets going.

Something I took for granted (without even meaning to) was my fitness and now I'm paying for it big time.

Knowing you are strong and fit is a wonderful feeling. Wanting to power vomit due to running for 5 minutes is totally shit.

Bring on the rocket and baby leaf salads and my trusty bicycle.

(Under) Stand Your Ground

A few short years ago, before I was into Krav, and for sometime after. I would be stubborn if faced with confrontation. I couldn't fight. Hadn't been able to all my life...but I would stand my ground and get knocked down or worse if necessary JUST to prove that I wasn't a coward.

My attitude at the time was: “You may be able to punch me out, you may be able to beat me up but I'm gonna show you that I'm not afraid.”

In 2009 me and some friends got caught having a midnight swim in a pool bar in Crete. It was my friend Hannah's 27^th birthday and she loved the bar and spent most days there drinking and swimming and sunbathing. Turns out that Cretans loathe trespassers and so the owner climbed out of his chalet with a three-pronged harpoon and threatened me with it, puncuated with lots of swearing and grunts of “malaka!” which means “wanker” and is about the most insulting thing you can say to someone else in Greek.

I was monumentally angry at this and being drunk told him to go fuck himself. I then added “we'll leave OK but there's no need for THAT!” I beckoned the others over to get out the pool while the old man's son climbed out of HIS chalet in just his boxer shorts and stood next to his father protectively, glaring at me. As my friends gathered their stuff the old guy suddenly lost it and span around as Hannah bent over to get her purse and whacked her hard across the arse with the metal handle of the harpoon (this fucking thing was BIG. Sort of device you'd fire at a dolphin). It made an audible “crack!” and I tried to get in between them shouting “What the fuck are you doing?!!”

Next thing I know I'm on my back as the son had just punched me in the head. I leapt back up yelling “DON'T HIT THE WOMEN!” and again stood in between them. My friends bolted (including, depressingly, the only other male from the group who was the first to run for the sanctuary of the road) while I stood there, palms up facing these two until I was certain that my pals had gone.

Bottom line was. It ended badly, I got knocked down, but I had stood my ground and for that I felt proud.

Problem is....had I simply backed off when I saw the old man with the harpoon thing. Had I not lost my temper and sworn at him. Had I not shouted at him and then stood my ground then he probably wouldn't have lashed out the way he did. Cretans HATE trespassers and his overly aggressive posture and attitude were possibly just for show as I later found out that with no entrance gate, this bar gets people taking drunken swims at 3am at least once a week.

Now, with 3 years-ish of Krav Maga under my patch and the rank of P4 (stick defences resit pending) I find it much easier to suppress my ego and pride and think of a common sense option for what is happening in front of me. Recently I got threatened by some gobby shitbag in the street. Instead of getting into a slanging match and possible fisticuffs I pretended to call the police via my headphones and the lad buggered off once he thought the “filth” were on the way.

This year in Crete some guy groped me on the dance floor of a local disco bar. I twisted his hand away as I'd been taught and instead of freaking out or breaking his nose, simply shook his other hand (while still holding his finger) and told him not to do it again.

Ultimately Krav at its essence is about NOT fighting. It's about avoiding confrontation unless you have absolutely no choice. It doesn't make you a coward for not fighting. Instead it realigns your sense of what is important, necessary and appropriate in a situation.

Wading in fists flying and yelling may look impressive but is likely to get you killed.

Common Sense Before Valour

For the last 4 weeks I've been in Plakias. A wonderful holiday resort in Crete, Greece that my father retired to about 17 years ago. Officially it's a fishing village with an indigenous population of about 150. Unofficially it's a party town from May to October where people go to have a lot of F.U.N.

When I set off I had every intention of visiting a Krav Maga club in Athens on the mainland of Greece and training for one session with a club there. This was all arranged via e-mail before I set out but then life got in the way. The Greek KMG director was at the International Director's meeting in Israel for the first chunk of my vacation and after that my brother got sick so that didn't occur (but will either later on this year or next summer when I go back).

My brother is into martial arts, holding a black belt in Judo and a blue belt in Jiu Jitsu. He also boxes, so set up a makeshift punch bag outside my dad's apartment, hanging from one of the wooden beams, and we had the grand total of TWO sessions on that before the hangovers began to conquer my desire to remain Kravvy.

I'd also vowed I'd continue my regime of 70 inclined push ups every day and 100 abdominal crunches. Happened the first day only.

Reality is, that unless you are very focussed and seriously “into” getting and keeping super fit, a holiday is not the place to try and keep up a training schedule.

I spent a month drinking heavily nearly every day; doing shots like they were going out of style; eating ice cream for pudding meal; gobbling down a full English breakfast about 4 days a week; wolfing down a pitta gyro at least once every 2 days (a kebab with chips in it); and having hangovers that made me contemplate genocide. I did virtually no exercise (couple of scuba dives, some swimming and a lot of walking) and would sleep in till about lunchtime most days

Bottom line is that I'm now officially unfit. As much as I want to go back to Krav and train with my club again, I'm also well aware that my body needs just a little TLC before I throw myself back into this. My chief instructor Bartosz is one of the best there is, and being that good he expects a commitment from his students that I'm normally happy to give. Last year though, I came back from Plakias after a month of doing whatever the hell I liked, and nearly puked during the warm up...about 5 minutes into the session.

So this year, I've got a different plan.

On the plane from Crete to London I ordered a cup of tomato soup and a pot of lentils with spicy couscous (menu option 5), even though I was salivating at the thought of a bacon and cheese hero sandwich, a cup of filter coffee and a Twix chocolate bar (menu option 2).

I landed back in England yesterday morning at 2am (Saturday 12^th July) and slept like the dead until about 11am once I got home. I had bran flakes for breakfast, and made some soup and had a fruit smoothie for lunch and dinner. That night I chilled out in front of the TV with season 2 of “Sons of Anarchy” and again slept like the recently deceased until 11am today. I went for a bike ride of 5 or so miles (about half the distance I usually go) and came back and had a cup of soup for lunch.

I know guys who hurl themselves into Krav at every given opportunity, even if hungover or ill. Problem is that that usually invokes further issues and even possibly prolonged absence from training due to making their bodies feel a hell of a lot worse. Having trained while “under the weather” I know how you must feel at least 95% fit in order to gain anything from sports, especially something as cardio-based as Krav Maga.

My body is different now to how it was a month ago. I've gained about half a stone, I have a lot less stamina and my endurance is low. Not to mention that anyone using the toilet after me currently needs to take a canary in a cage in there with them.

Either later this week or early next week, I will return to my club and get stuck in. I'm itching to go back there now, but won't. One of the things Krav has showed me is that sometimes it pays to be patient and not run but walk.

So that one may walk in peace. Not fall to pieces.

Eyal Yanilov World Tour, Bristol, June 1st 2014

My review for Krav Maga Global of the Eyal Yanilov World Tour.

Was an utterly tremendous experience.

KMG Air Safety Workshop

My review for Krav Maga Global UK of the Air Safety seminar (hijacking and disruptive passenger safety training) by Nick Maison (E3) and Jose Silva (G5) at Bournemouth airport on May 17th 2014.

Also check out this video by Nick and Jose for the event.

Pick ‘n’ Mix

My Krav club have several venues. Through trying them out I’ve now find a bespoke fitting for my own comfort zone around both training and combat.

Never much liked combat. Love the technical side of Krav but really couldn’t get into the swing of taking a swing at someone on a cold blooded basis once a week.

This is simply something I needed to deal with and I’ve tried several options. Forcing myself to go. Picking the biggest bloke present as a partner. Picking the highest qualified bloke as a partner**. Getting up and coming back when knocked down. And professional help outside of Krav.

Really didn’t change my view of it all and in fact the state of “not liking it much” simply persisted.

I love Krav Maga as it keeps me fit and the skills are unsurpassable as tools for life in a physically confrontational situation. KMM have 3 instructors spread over 6 venues, Monday to Friday. I’ve been trying out the various locations for a month or so and have finally hit upon a recipe that works for me.

My grade is P4, but to be honest my fighting ability is pretty low. I lack the skills and while I’ll stand my ground I tend very often to get a hefty boot in the groin or drop my guard long enough to get a right hook in the head. At my home club the guys who opt for combat are either long stayers or high grades (we currently have five P5s and they semi-regularly attend this class) or both. The class isn’t enjoyable for me solely because I’m not able to keep up. Some believe that if you fight much better and experienced guys then you improve. This is true, but you need to start somewhere and if, like me, you are simply uncomfortable with it then another solution must be sought.

On Monday I go to one class where there are loads of people who stay for Combat and they are in the majority relatively new. There are a mixture of abilities so I can relax a little and work on my footwork, dodging and strikes. I stayed last night and thoroughly enjoyed the class, and was partnered mainly with a guy from Leamington Spa who’d come with me and is a great fighter. Taking it as a learning curve I predict that a month of so of this group and I’ll feel confident enough to try one of the more experienced Combat classes in another KMM venue.

On Thursday I attend the Leamington Spa class with the Chief Instructor like I’ve done for over 2 years and as usual it’s a lot of fun and hard work. By tailoring the lessons around what works for me, I feel a lot less anxious about what I’m doing and believe therefore that when I gear up for my next grading in 6 months or a year, I’ll be a lot more into it than if I’d simply ploughed ahead without trying different things out.

This reluctance and discomfort around the fighting side of Krav has bugged me for months, but now I’ve found a way to deal with it gradually and get up to speed. If shock and immersion therapy don’t work…then it’s time to look for another way of getting from A to B.

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** In one venue it's the same guy. 6 feet 11 inches tall and P5. 

Interview for KMM, 2013

My excerpt from interviews chief instructor Bartosz put together with Practitioners at Krav Maga Midlands.

I was gearing up for P3 around this time, having got through the 2nd grading.

Hopefully I pronounced Imi's name right.

Pump Room Action

Krav Maga Midlands
Pump Room Action

Night Parks Training
Tuesday 8^th April 2014

Due to a double booking at Krav Maga Midlands’ usual Tuesday training ground in Trinity school, Leamington Spa, Bartosz decided to improvise and take us all out on a little trip to get back to nature.

Royal Leamington Spa has some gorgeous parks and now Spring is finally in the air, the Pump Room gardens next to the town library were utilised for the welcome return of the Night Park Scenarios training that we last attempted in Stratford-upon-Avon in Autumn 2013.

After meeting up near the river bridge we took to the elevated walkway next to York Road at the back of the old library near Station Approach. The whole thing seemed a little surreal with me and the other practitioners warming up while people walking dogs, joggers, and cyclists all made their way past us with confused looks on their faces. Some even took a detour to avoid us.

After some ever-necessary stretching and loosening up we started on 3^rd party protection. This was what it says on the tin, where you have to protect your “mate” from a frontal attack by a roving scallywag (or in this case, another practitioner). One technique which is fundamental in this type of thing, is that you MUST remember to extricate your 3^rd Party from the situation as soon as you have neutralised or reduced the attack.

Reason?

In real life people try to get involved or are panicking or just plain pissed off to have someone try and take a swing at them. Ever tried to defend a drunken yet outspoken girlfriend on a night out? My own experiences of witnessing this are that she will at least want to “have words” with the other party. The removal technique was to spin them round, grab their right arm with your right hand and grab their neck with your left (or vice versa) then push them in the direction you want them to go until you are both clear of danger.

The next technique involved if you are holding hands and someone tries to give you trouble, as your defence technique needs to adapt accordingly. Cue much laughter as some of the butchest blokes in the club were required to walk along with fingers entwined as if they were on a moonlit stroll along Brighton beachfront.

Later we moved to choke holds and then knife defences. The latter proved tricky as we were on hard ground but it’s always satisfying to get a bigger opponent onto the floor, just by applying the correct leverage to their wrist.

A few times we had members of the public wander through the group including a father with two wide eyed toddlers, several joggers, and a woman leading a dog on a length of old rope. She looked at us in bewilderment for a few seconds and asked, “Is this a fight or are you pretending to fight?” She then added that the dog was a stray she’d found and wondered if any of us would like to take it off her.

We all politely declined.

After the main techniques had been gone through, the daylight had faded and the park lamps had sprung into life. Bartosz then said, “Number yourselves from 1.” I got in first and then the remaining numbers were argued over. Bartosz told me to wait and took the other lads to where the path runs from the bridge, around the back of where we’d been training before it rejoins the trail. After some whispering and muttered instructions he came to fetch me and said grinning, “OK Lance, just walk from one end to the other.”

Even though I’d done this before and even though these were all my club mates and EVEN THOUGH it was a training scenario…there is something very creepy about seeing about 12 guys in black clothing, loitering silently around a dark alleyway in staggered formation, grinning and clearly planning mischief.

First guy simply wanted to ask the time, a red herring I’ve seen before so I politely declined and moved on. The second tried to grab me and I managed to kick him away before I reached the joys of the middle bit where I got attacked with knives by two guys at once and then jumped by three blokes pretending to mug me. I got through relatively unscathed and was pleased before swapping places with number 2. Each guy went through and Bartosz changed the roles of each “attacker” every time so that no one could predict what they would have to face. Funniest variation was a fairly big lad who was told to grab the person as if he was a drunken mate just wanting a hug. It didn’t take long before someone’s adrenalin got the better of them and they booted the guy asking the time straight in the groin rather than seeing it as a benign request.

Finally we’d all got through and we regrouped up the top for the final “Kida” and made our way home.

I thoroughly enjoyed tonight’s training. Mainly as it worked on techniques that are incredibly useful if out with friends or on a date,  but also because moving through the Tunnel of Fun in semi darkness and taking on loads of people is just such F.U.N.