Defy Your Destiny

In July 2017 I checked my luggage in at Heathrow airport to take an Etihad Airways flight from the UK to Abu Dhabi. This was the first phase of a two-part journey back to Australia to complete the Krav Maga Global, Australia & New Zealand General Instructors Course (or KMG ANZ GIC 2017 for short).

Over the preceding week I had had many thoughts about my future and the very real possibility that I would fail the GIC. 

The course comes in three parts in most countries, two in some. KMG ANZ do it in two. Part 1 had been in the Gold Coast of Australia and was 12 days of learning under the tuition of Expert level 4 examiner Rune Lind**. The course, while enlightening, educational and mainly fun had also been bone jarringly exhausting and physically painful. 7 to 8 hours per day of training isn’t that hard to handle if you are even reasonably fit. But with the necessity to teach, make notes and stay mentally aware, it was VERY draining.

I thoroughly enjoyed it but on the last day, when Rune took us to one side individually to give us our personal feedback he said to me “If you carry on as you are, you won’t pass part 2. But do it anyway, because then 1 is locked down and you can retest 2 later on if you need to”.

I have covered the anxiety issues, and how it felt to fail, in my blogs Schroedinger’s Pussy and After A While… but recently I realised just why I really did it.

Just why I went back at all.

When part 1 was getting closer I was exercising as much as I could. I was backpacking in New Zealand at the time and, in order to get my mind on the right wavelength, I booked the return flight back from the UK to Oz for part 2 months before it was due to happen. Retrospectively this wasn’t necessary as you can do part 2 in any country where they are happy to accept you on the course, if you’ve completed part 1. However at the time I wanted to convince myself that I could see this through.

A tourist visa to Australia (or at least, the one I had) is valid for 9 months per year from the date of first entry. However, you must leave every 3 months in order to keep the visa active. So I had no choice but to quit Oz after part 1 had finished and I intended to spend it with my dad in Greece. 

When it came time to pack up my groin guard and fly to Melbourne for part 2, I had figured out how to “not go” and also get the money back. A lost passport would have been covered by my Platinum insurance and the non-refundable return flight as well. I decided only when I handed my luggage over at check-in desk to actually go back.

After another, more arduous, 12 days of training I failed the GIC as I had known I probably would.

Now…

All my life I have dreamed of being brave, being a warrior and defeating monsters. My earliest dreams, at the age of about 5, involved me as Lance cowboy, a hero of playschool*** who other kids held in awe and was loved by all. However, growing up my reality was very different. I had no ability to fight and while I wasn’t a coward (I’d stand still and take a beating to prove I wasn’t scared) I gave up trying to make a difference to my own limitations by about the age of 14. 

If something came unexpectedly, then I’d deal with it as best I could, but I would avoid situations that could cause me pain, loss, humiliation or other draining emotions, and keep my life on an even keel.

When I was 19 two bouncers in a pub I worked in, held me down and forcibly cut my hair. I did nothing and tried to laugh it off.

When I got a job after leaving uni, I quit due to bullying from my supervisor after making zero effort to fight back against her behaviour. 

My next job was populated by a bunch of wankers who were banal and bullying in equal measure. Again I did nothing.

A job I got in 2002 where my boss refused to pay me properly on my final day, I put up no resistance.

When I fell in love in 2004 and couldn’t deal with my emotions I ran away and hid for over 8 years, telling myself outrageous stories about how the woman must have felt about me.

When, in 2010, and a police officer, my sergeant bullied me gleefully until I resigned, I put up only token resistance and only made peace with the situation after publishing a book about it all.

Any key event in my life I wouldn’t see it through. I would stop and say that I’d stood my ground long enough and now it was time to move on.

And then GIC came. 

I had been training in Australia and New Zealand at a few clubs when I asked Adam White, the head of KMG ANZ if he’d let me take the course. I made it clear I couldn’t promise regular training but that I would still give it my all. Problem is, techniques need to be absorbed into muscle memory and by not training in clubs more than once every month or so, there was no way I was ready and deep down I knew that.

To fly back to Melbourne from London was going to take me about 30 hours. It was winter in Australia in July so I would not only be tired, I would be cold and uncomfortable too. The training would start early and end late. I would have homework to do. I would be facing a range of negative emotions and would hopefully be able to get over what I found out later is called The GIC Hump. This would be hard. It would be one of the hardest things I had ever done and to top it all off, I had little chance of success. I simply wasn’t ready. 

On day 12, the last day, I gave it as much as I could. I had passed both the theory and teaching exams on days 10 and 11 and while I knew I was bollocksing up the techniques that part 2 examiner Franklyn Hartkamp was asking us to demonstrate I still lived in the moment. After 5+ hours we all got our results and Franklyn made it clear that while I had got good passes on the first two exams he wanted me to wait a year before retesting, my techniques had been that lacking in polish. He also expressed surprise when I said I would be flying back to Europe in 2 days, asking “But you’re coming back?” and then saying that he’d never had this situation before, where someone had been in a country ONLY to take the exam and was leaving straight after.

Through all that pain, and eventual disappointment, I had spent a lot of money, time, sweat and pain on something that I now needed to do all over again if I still coveted the Instructors’ T-shirt.

But then….

I had come back. I’d sen this to the end. I’d not made a false insurance claim and told myself that I could do part 2 “another time”. I’d travelled a ridiculous amount of miles and gone through a world of pain. And that was the achievement. For possibly the first time in my adult life I had, with my eyes wide open, decided to not turn the ship around, tuck tail and run, or do a U-ey. I’d faced my fears of both failure and pain and both participated in and completed something that, even three years previously, I NEVER thought I would be able to do. I had fought with guys both better and worse than me, and had my 42 year phobia of fighting finally cured during the sparring on day 11 of GIC part 1.

I resigned my jobs, I didn’t protest when two thugs cut my hair for a laugh, I hadn’t been able to tell the woman I loved how I felt about her, but now, knowing that I was 80% likely to fail I had still gone back and done this. 

This was the achievement, not the G1 patch or the Instructors’ certificate and T-shirt. To know that I could trek across the world to pursue a dream. Something I’d always wanted, and not back down when the odds were against me. I’d faced my demons and I’d had a good time. A video of me fighting during the grading shows me getting my arse handed to me by a much bigger, better and stronger opponent (who at one point, kicks me in the HEAD from a standing position). The same video also shows that while I’m out of my league, I’m also not backing down. He was the personification of the GIC. I knew I couldn’t beat him, but I tried anyway and stood my ground.

This experience gave me back a lot of the self esteem I lost growing up. In 2010 I had a tattoo done on my left arm that said “Defy Your Destiny” and for once I tried to. 

I now know that even if I never retake the GIC I have the power to try whatever I want.

** Now Expert 5.

*** Kindergarten to Yanks.

Beside The Mountain

For the last few days I’ve been proofreading a manuscript given to me by a friend of a friend. She’s just written her first book and after reading the first draft, I gave a few recommendations and then offered to check it all. This is, after all, one of my skill sets.

Now. Proofreading is dull and laborious and requires an extremely high level of accuracy. The main reason it’s dull (and also the reason that the author should not EVER proof read their own stuff) is that you can’t “enjoy” what you’re looking at. You are there, like an Olympic judge, to check for flaws and errors. You are not there to get stuck in to the prose.

Case in point would be my first fantasy novel, The Catastrophe of the Emerald Queen. This was a labour of love that took about a year to write, edit and get published. I didn’t see a whole shit load of mistakes that were in it because I was emotionally attached to the text. The adventures of Mordalayn, bodyguard to the child queen of Alegria as he fought the wicked King James of Anghofio. Even typing that now I can feel a little tingle. Worst mistake in the first edition was “and the shoulders shouted out for their king”, which the spell checker didn’t flag up and I was oblivious to as I was too into the excitement of the Anghofian King’s Daggers taking on Mordalayn on the steps of the Emerald palace.

The book I was proofreading was about spirituality and enjoying life. One line that the author wrote that stuck with me is that it is about the journey and not about the arrival or conclusion. We all die one day, so enjoy what you have and embrace each new day.

The book also talks about seeing and interpreting signs in life and acting upon them. Also, that we are where we are supposed to be at any given time and things come to us as they are meant to, in a time/ space sequence.

Like me, the author had read You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay and has adopted a lot of that wonderful lady’s philosophies.

Something that became clear as I looked through the book (yes, I know I wasn’t meant to be “reading” it but it kind of seeped in) was that by letting go of a lot of horrible shit, life can become a lot more “flowy” and much less of a struggle.

Recently I came back from Australia. I’d just completed but failed a course to be a Krav Maga instructor. The whole thing was, at the end of the day, an attempt for me to prove to myself that I could go for something that was extremely difficult and happening WAY beyond my comfort zone. I came out of it exhausted, disappointed and sore (with hip and back issues that still haven’t realigned). However I also felt elated and proud. I knew I might fail but I chose not to be Schroedinger’s Pussy any more and for that I feel good.

But….

There were many other ways I could have done this course.

Part one was 12 days in the Australian Gold Coast in April 2017. I applied for it while travelling out in Australasia and had a whale of a time. Determined to get my mind on the wavelength of “I will pass” I booked a return flight from London to Melbourne to take part 2 in July. I had to leave Oz during the gap because my visa is good for 9 months of the year but only in 3 month spurts.

Once I got back I realised that I could have opted to take part 2 anywhere in the world (66 countries belong to Krav Maga Global, the organisation that run the General Instructors Course/ GIC) but with a non changeable/ non refundable, Doctor Dao-esque return flight booked...well, I either did the course or I stayed but lost the money for the flight.

As proud as I am of having gone back to attempt part 2, what I have recently realised is that I could have done it in London or Rome or Athens or anywhere. I booked flights to return to Melbourne way back in April because I was too focussed on what I wanted to even consider that there might be another way.

All that travel and back pain and airline food and jet lag and exhaustion and A FUCKING AUSTRALIAN WINTER!!! could all have been avoided if I’d just sat back and let life flow with me, as opposed to wading against the current up river.

Years ago in Mad magazine I saw a short, 3 or 4 panel cartoon of a guy climbing a mountain. He was tired, dirty and injured by the time he climbed over the summit with his bare hands...only to find that there was a McDonalds at the top, full of people and a road next to it, leading down, that he had failed to see.

I try to do yoga regularly but am unable (at the moment) to assume the Full Lotus position due to stiffness in my hips, partially due to sciatica and partially due to a knee operation on my left side. I found out from a yoga teacher after at least 4 years of working around the issue, that it wasn’t even necessary to perform Full Lotus and there were a multitude of other positions that would allow me not to need it.

I always had bad BAD BAADD hangovers. My record for time in bed with a right stinking one is about 36 hours. It turns out that all I needed to avoid (most) of this was lots of water before, during and after a boozing session.

I found out that when economy airlines board their flights, every bugger and their aunty stand up and just queue like lemmings. I now sit down and wait until the herd has thinned, then get up and walk at a leisurely pace to my seat.

Life can be an uphill struggle if you don’t take a breath and just go with it.

Greatly Increased Cardio

 On April 15th I finished the first half of Krav Maga Global’s General Instructors Course. 

This was 12 days of 8 hours per day of solid training. We kicked off at 8.30am every day, broke for lunch at 12.30, continued at 2pm and finished (usually) between 5 and 6.

I had been told, way before I even applied for it, that this was a Generic Instrument of Cruelty. Designed to test you to your physical limits and make certain that you not only knew the Krav Maga syllabus from P1 to P5 almost perfectly BUT that you were of a level of ability equal or greater to a G1.

I had kept fit in the weeks leading up to the GIC. Running, moderating & monitoring my diet and going on lots of lovely long walks. The Greater Intake of Carbs that I was told to be expecting once the training started, had me weaning myself off sugary treats, ice cream and fast food. I tried very hard to get into a system of living that would Give Intensive Care when it came to crunch time on April 3rd.

I had also signed up to the Krav camps in Gold Coast, that were due to run in the 3 days leading up to the GIC. This got cancelled due to Cyclone Debbie** and I then had 72 hours to kill in Broadbeach Waters, just up the road from where we would be training. I decided to Get Into Cycling, buying a 99 dollar bike from K-Mart and trying to keep everything on an even keel before we met Expert level 4, GIC instructor Rune Lind.

A friend of mine who has taken and passed the GIC said to me that “If you get up on day 3, then you know you want to continue”. While day 1 was hard, I left feeling satisfied with how the day had gone. Day 2 I was still buzzing and only slightly sore BUT true to predictions…day 3 was where the pain began.

The body needs time to recover from a serious beasting and the ONLY guy I know on the course who claimed to have relatively little problem with the regime was a bloke who had been training 3 hours a day for the 6 months prior to GIC commencing. Going Isotonic Crazy, wasn’t my way of prepping for this, however I wished that I had after a little while.

Day 4 and onwards my body and mental state fluctuated between abject pain and a determination to continue. This course is HARD.

Getting Into Character on day 5 and I was tired beyond belief. One good thing about having the bicycle was that I could cycle to and from training, loosening up my sore muscles a little bit before we got stuck in. 

Learning Krav Maga while also pausing for lectures on how to teach it, means that your mind and body are both being pushed to limits as you have to be able to sit, listen and take notes while sweaty, bruised and tired

The age range of the guys on the course ranged from an amateur boxer aged 21 to a retired soldier aged 56. Levels of ability were P1 to G3…and that was just KMG or IKMF certifications. Some people held high ranks in other disciplines and martial arts. There was only one female attendee.

In the early days we were joined by several existing, recently qualified GIC instructors who were utilising the “free top ups” factor of the course, meaning anyone who’s graduated may come back to take parts 1 or 2 again…as often as they want. 

Grinning Instead of Cursing when the workouts and techniques became painful, proved to be a slog. I’d known this course would be tough but I had never imagined just how much.

Some of the candidates would sleep after lunch, just a light nap. I tried this only once, fearful of having a Genuine Insomniac Collapse, and realised it wasn’t for me. Getting Into Character after 90 minutes of eating and sleep…not something I could get used to.

Lunch consisted of two cups of filer coffee from the local 7-Eleven plus a big, fuck-off salad with a jumbo sized tin of tuna mixed in. Some of the other guys were eating meals that would have satisfied two or three “normal” human beings.

As we moved through they days there were markers used to tick off the passage of time. Day 3 was the Determinator. Days 4 or 5 was where Rune had joked that we had the right to bring in a “bag of wingeing” as the soreness and potential injuries would be at a peak by this point. Day 6 would be where our bodies began to get used to what we were putting them through. Day 6 was also the much anticipated “halfway point” (until some sod pointed out that it was technically only the “quarterway point”) while Day 9 meant 3/4 gone and Day 10 was double figures.

By Day 11 we hadn’t done any sparring and I thought we’d got away with it. Bringing my 16oz Gloves In a Carrier bag every day, this was the one piece of kit I’d not used. Then, at about 5pm on the 11th day, Rune casually told us to get gloved up. We then had about 20 to 25 minutes of full on fighting, with variations being thrown into the mix. First partners had to choose one to defend only, while one attacked. I was with an amateur kickboxer who’d trained for about 15 years. As I was the defender I kept getting booted in the head and he basically handed me my arse. The numbers being odd, we had a “free radical” who could walk up to any existing pair and choose one of them to fight with, while the unwanted protagonist would then assume the FR’s mantle and bugger off looking for someone else to have a scrap with. 

After the exhaustion factor had been reached, passed and then reachieved…Rune then put on Robbie William’s song “Let Me Entertain You” and said brightly “Fight until the song finishes, do not change partners”.

I can safely say that this experience has finally cured any and all phobias I had about sparring.

Through stick defences, groundwork and seemingly endless drills, the Guttural Intense Cursing got louder and more profane as we soldiered on. 

Something that occurred with the predictability of jet lag was the “brain overload” meltdown that occurred on numerous occasions. This was basically when you would be able to do relatively complex or new techniques…but forgot the basics. Illustrating very clearly the importance of drilling stuff over and over again to integrate it into muscle memory I found myself suffering from amnesia over how to do a forward roll, a backward roll and an outlet stance. For the outlet, Rune actually had to take my left hand and move it to the correct position. I felt like sneaking off and having a little cry in a corner somewhere but recovered, carried on and after a few minutes asked Rune if I could have a “word”.

When I confessed my Girly Intention to Cry he smiled and said “It’s not just you. There’s at least one other person in here who feels the same way. It’s day 12. your brain is full, it can’t take any more information”.

Injuries were minor but present in about 2/3 of the assembled crew. I messed up my neck doing the joyful Rebirthing exercise (basically the shield wall attack from Battle of the Bastards in Game of Thrones…but without the spears) and had pain in my left hip and left knee. Other guys were wearing sports braces & bandages and as we lined up for the initial Kida each morning, it started to more and more resemble the “after” photos from a St John’s Ambulance medical journal. 

Even on the last day we didn’t get a respite from the regime. Breaking earlier than normal due to a public holiday affecting public transport, Rune had us spend most of the time doing grading-esque drills, asking us to perform specific techniques. By the end of it we were all running on fumes and met Rune in the back of the room for private feedback before heading out.

That night I fought off the Genuine Intention to Crash and went out with the guys for a meal and some beer. Everyone was sore, everyone was tired but we’d had a good time and had made it through without anyone having to drop out due to injury or fatigue.

Pain and exhaustion and only half done.

Was it worth it?

COURSE IT WAS!!!

On The 5th Day...

On 3rd April 2017 I started to study for the Krav Maga Global General Instructors course.

This is a 24 day training programme in how to be a Krav teacher. 

It’s something I had occasionally dared to dream about in recent years but several factors had put me off applying.

For a start it’s expensive. Nearly a month of tuition doesn’t come cheap. Secondly it was something you had to be recommended for…you couldn’t simply pay your money and turn up. Thirdly and most importantly, I had heard stories from people who’ve attended and passed the GIC that it is bone achingly, bruise inducingly, energy sappingly….HARD.

My confidence both on a social level and with regard to fighting were never that high. My instructor back in the UK actually laughed when I asked him if he’d put me forward for the GIC in March 2016 (as I recall, his exact words were “You’re not ready”) and it was only after flying to Israel in June to do the Kids Instructor Course that my confidence was boosted. After we’d finished the 5 day tuition in how to deliver Krav-based lessons to little ‘uns, the Deputy Director of KMG, Ze’ev Cohen beckoned me over for a little chat. Nervous and wondering what heinous crime I may have committed, he said with a smile “Your ability to teach, especially to children is outstanding but you need to work on your striking”. 

I went backpacking in August of last year and headed off to Australia, taking in New Zealand for a visa run from January to March. After training with a few clubs in both countries I got the national director Adam White to endorse my application for the GIC that was starting in April and waited impatiently, like a 7 year old on Christmas Eve, for the first day of the course.

Now…I’ve heard GIC described as many things. My favourite quote is that it’s like “university meets a car accident”. Another is that “for the first five days we looked like refugees”. The course has a reputation of being HARD.

It has two parts, the first being 12 days and the second 11. Depending on where you are, the break between them can be anything from a week up to three months. You are given tuition in fighting and how to teach in the initial phase, and will be given 3 tests in the second. Theoretical, teaching and a Graduate level 1 grading (as only G1s and above can teach, with G4 being the earliest point where you can actually grade Practitioners). 

On day 1 we started at 8.30am, broke for a 90 minutes lunch break at 1pm and finished at about 6 o’clock that night. 8-ish hours of Krav Maga. The day was hard but I felt like it was a good, albeit full-on introduction to what we would be doing. However, by the morning of day 2, the pain had started. 

I woke up sore and stiff, my arms and legs bruised. Still full of energy though, I had a big bowl of porridge and a filter coffee before cycling off to the training. 

Day 3 and I was in more pain. Carpet burns on my arms, my left knee hurting like a bitch (had ACL repair in September 2015) and my energy flagging. 

Every night I would come home, take a shower, eat a huge amount of food (with the backbone of the diet being meat pizzas) and then go to sleep. 

On day 4 I was beyond tired. My body hurt when I arrived to start the day’s lesson and after about an hour I was distracted by just how achey and exhausted I was. The fact we were doing ground releases (throwing someone off/ away from you who is attempting a chokehold on the ground) and I was partnered with an ex-army guy who has biceps the width of my neck didn’t help.

I limped home wondering if and when the magical moment would come when the pain ebbed and my body got used to it.

Lo and behold…that happened.

This morning for day 5 I woke up decidedly non-achey, non-grumpy and eager to start the day. My alarm was set for 7am but I woke up about six thirty and just decided to get up anyway. I no longer hated the traffic on the way in and did not wish genocidal thoughts upon other road users. I didn’t forget anything (day before, I had almost set off without that most necessary of tools, the groin guard) and felt energised and ready to get stuck in.

The instructors of this course had told us (and Facebook comments had backed it up) that it is usually around the fifth day the body adapts to the regime and the pain buggers off. Being cynical by nature, I had decided to take all stories with a pinch of salt. This one however, turned out to be true.

Through all the pain and exhaustion (my fitness levels are good but not up to Olympic athlete standard) I had held out that the event horizon was not too far away. Persevering when you are ready to drop is something that requires a certain mindset and that is clearly what Krav Maga Global want from their now and future instructors.

We are not only doing training in the physical side of how to fight, we are also making notes and having discussions in our group with regard to  what we’re being shown each day. The process is mentally AND physically demanding.

Day 5 was where the GIC summit was reached and I began to run down the other side. There’s still a long way to go (18 days in fact) but from now on it’s a pleasure and not something I do with gritted teeth.

Little Voice

As I posted last blog, I have recently been accepted to take the General Instructors Course in Australia.

Excited doesn’t describe how I feel as I get ready to do what I once considered an unobtainable dream. I’ve been doing yoga every day. Stretching. Push ups (tricep ones, not those fairy ones with your elbows poking out) and a LOT of walking.

I’m basically getting ready for one almighty big training session lasting 12 days…and that’s just part one!!!

As confident as I am about going for this, and as relaxed as I was about applying to do it there has been a little voice going off like a gossiping fishwife in my head for about a week now.

Basically the problems arose when I realised that the pain in my left knee and lower back AND left hip were not going to simply bugger off after a brisk walk or three. They remained. I need to be at the very least, physically fit for this training and back problems twinned with knee ache are not good omens.

In September 2015 I had my left knee’s anterior crusciate ligament rebuilt in surgery that lasted about 4 hours. It hurt like fuck for about 2 weeks after and hurt like a bitch for a good few weeks after that. Finally, months later, the knee was deemed fully fit and I went back into training for Krav Maga. 

Since I’ve been in Australia & New Zealand I’ve been doing a lot of running to try and get my cardio levels up. Problem was that last week I went on a 7 mile run and my knee decided to throw a tantrum. 

For the last few days there’s been an acidic pain in it and research has led me to believe this is something torn in the knee itself, or alternatively aggravation of something that was already a bit wonky. 

I realised that the yoga I was doing was only partially helping as a position called Full Pigeon was putting too much stress on the knee joint. Also, by trying to assume the Lotus position I was also stretching it further than it wanted to go.

For a little while now I’ve had this type of monologue going off in my head.

“You should bail now. Think of all the money you’ll save. It’s going to cost you over £2000 just for the course and then there’s accommodation on top. Then you have to come back to finish part 2 in June which means another £700 for the flight. It’s better if you just do the P&G camp the days before and then change your flight to go home about the 10th. You can see your Dad in Greece earlier and you can catch up with friends in the UK. It’s nice but think of ALL THAT MONEY and what if you end up crippled? I mean how are you going to get home? You’ll have a month of being stranded before your flight on May 2nd. Best to leave this. You weren’t cut out to be a General Instructor. Best stick with the Kids Instructor Course you already have. After all, you could use that money for other things. Play it safe.”

This goes on most of the day and I analysed what it was telling me in its whiney, nasal tones and most of it is just scaremongering. My self preservation skills are kicking in and part of me is not the fearless adventurer who set off in August of last year with a backpack and a bandana. Part of me realises that I’m 24 hours MINIMUM from home, in a time zone of 12 hours difference and am very far from what I knew and felt comfortable with. While I have a safety net it is one that it takes a long time to set up and activate. 

Today I told my inner voice to go fuck itself, and I went to a medical centre. The robotic receptionist told me that it costs $50NZ just to see the doctor so instead I went to a little Chinese guy who does massages and paid him $30NZ to look at my back and knee. He put that tingley, electrode thingy on my back and kneaded the hell out of the sore bits. Afterwards he said that if the knee didn’t get better his recommendation was that I didn’t do the GIC, something I knew anyway. 

I went home, drank at least 2 litres of water (ever seen piss after a deep massage, not nice, best to flush it out) and am now feeling more positive about it all.

Bailing if I’m injured is something I knew I’d have to do and had prepared for it. Bailing in anticipation of it…that’s just paranoia & insecurity. 

Thanks little voice but I’m now switching you off.

No Dessert

I recently got accepted on to the General Instructors Course for Krav Maga Global.

This one is running in Australia with part 1 in the Gold Coast and part 2 in Melbourne.

After many years of doing Krav (7 to be precise) I have already attained both P5 and done the Kids Instructor Course but felt it was time to take things to the next level.

I trained with SGS Krav Maga in Sydney from November to January and the club’s owner Steven Kratsas agreed to endorse my application. Later on, I met the head of KMG Australia & New Zealand, Adam White who said it was a ‘go’.

Super excited doesn’t describe how I’ve felt since my application was accepted. 

The chance to attain not only G1 but to actually be a qualified instructor…something that as recently as a year ago I would have considered beyond my capabilities. 

To wear the “INSTRUCTOR” T-shirt and fulfill my dream of being able to teach Krav Maga to children as more than an Assistant KIC Instructor (the official title given to those who hold KIC without GIC).

To feel proud at what I’d achieved and know that I had reached a pinnacle that I had once considered to be as remote as the summit of Mount Everest.

So…I booked my flights and accommodation around part 1. Booked my flights but not the accommodation (yet, anyway) around part 2 and started revising the curriculums for P1 to P5 and also making sure I stay fit (I’m currently backpacking so am not attending Krav regularly and have to be creative in my fitness regime). I’ve also started making notes on what I eat each day and how much food I shove down my cake hole.

I’ve heard GIC described in many way. An instructor I know in the UK said it was like “university meets a car accident” and one said that “if you get up on day 3 then you know you intend to continue”.

All in all I am ready yet nervous for the upcoming 12 days of GIC part 1.

But…

Just before the GIC starts there is a P & G camp running in Gold Coast. Run by Rune Lind and Adam White this is a 3 day training camp where people from P0 to G4 can be immersed in Krav Maga. 

I consulted Adam White as to whether it was OK to do this as well and he said it was up to me.

So, I thought about it and procrastinated and then booked the course. As a P5 I’m eligible for the G camp and have never trained at G level before. 

Now….

The online booking form had various bits to fill out such as whether you wanted accommodation (nope) or what size T-shirt you required (M). The big question for me though was “do you want to grade?”

Having taken P5 only 4 months previously to the G camp I am ineligible to actually test for G1 but I mulled over the idea of doing it as a “dummy run” in preparation for GIC. After all, the extra tuition would be great and it would be superb to get an assessment of my abilities up to that point.

Then I thought about it a little more objectively.

After 2.5 days of training at a G camp (with the other half of day 3 for the grading) my body will be tired and I will have worked hard. My P5 grading was incredibly hard work and I’ve no doubt that G1 will be even tougher.

I’ll get invaluable G level tuition from 31st March to 2nd April and then on the 3rd, will jump into even more immersive training. I have no desire to prove that I’m “hard” or that I’m a Terminator-esque warrior of the mats in order to make it through everything on offer. 

End of the day, Krav Maga is about being level headed and being able to walk in peace, not limp home in pieces.

I want to be tired yet happy to face a new day when we wrap up G camp. I don’t want to risk getting injured or knacker myself out in a grading that is superfluous to what I need right now. As awesome as it would be to do a ‘dry run’ and be told that, had it been a real test, I would have passed, it is a toy that right now I don’t need to play with and can be left in the box.

I want to start GIC fit and ready, not fighting sleep and yearning for coffee.

The G camp is the main course, the grading is the dessert.

As much as I love dessert, this time I think I’ll skip it and have an early night.