The Master Effect

In Krav Maga, like any self defence or martial arts system, there is a fear factor present. It sits up there on the shelf with fitness (or lack of), exhaustion, anxiety and adrenalin. Fear is ever present to some degree because, to put it bluntly, we are involved in a discipline that teaches the use of brutal, physical force and despite what anyone doing non-contact Karate may try and bluster, it is not normal to put yourself in that situation willingly. Every instinct of human survival screams at you to run away from trouble…but that’s why we train. To override the flinch response and hone our reflexes to deal more appropriately with aggression and violence.

Fear is a good thing in moderation. Fear can kickstart adrenalin and it can “show you where the edge is”. Fear can keep you sharp, keep your muscle memory active and stop you from becoming complacent or even lazy. Multiple attackers drill? I’d be lying if I said that fear didn’t show its face to some degree on that one. How about sparring with someone MUCH bigger than who’s at least a grade higher? Fear could be distilled from my veins from that. And let’s not forget the joys of Being Called To The Front To Help Demonstrate A Technique. Oh, my God! The fear.

In the end though we step forward, face the fear and move past it. Fear in training is normal and it is essential. Jon Bullock, head of KMG UK once said at a seminar that we are not afraid of getting hurt in training as we know that is probably not going to happen. What we are afraid of most of all is looking foolish in front of other people.

The biggest fear I have EVER faced so far in the 7 years I’ve being doing Krav Maga was in 2014 when I was chosen by Eyal Yanilov to fight what are known as the Bullet Men. Me and 9 others at Eyal’s World Tour seminar in Essex, were selected to go up against TWO guys in Predator suits…one at a time. I was the last to fight and I have seriously never been as scared as I was in the half hour leading up to the fight. Once we went hands on, I was fine though. It was my mind that was frightening me, filling my head with stories and fears and paranoia about what was, looking back on it, an awesome experience and a privilege. To sum up…I was hand picked by the head of Krav Maga Global to fight in front of everyone and over 100 other people in the room weren’t. I still remember very clearly just how scared I was and as Jon said, it was mainly due to fear of how I would be perceived by my peers, instructors and most of all Eyal Yanilov. I wasn’t afraid of getting hurt.

Photo by Anna Surowiec

Fear clouded my mind, got my palms sweaty and made me feel physically nauseous. Fear, that day, was a bit of a bastard.

Fear like that though, is useful. Now I’m not so scared in front of a room full of people. The fear can be dealt with, moved past and adapted to. Fear is a tool, like fire. You can control it but don’t ever get casual or lose sight of what you’re doing with it.

But…there’s another type of fear and it’s what I call the Master Effect. 

The earliest example of this was about 5 years ago when I was training in the UK. The club was fairly new back then and there was only one P5 in the club. We would all look at him with awe as he walked into training, silent and heavily muscled. A P5. Cor! Newbies asked me at least twice in whispered tones “Is he the P5?” and for some reason it seemed necessary to keep our voices down. I mean, what if he heard us talking and wanted to spar with us? Oh my God! The guy in question is actually a really nice bloke and a couple of years ago took the GIC and became an instructor. He’s now a G2 and his classes are well respected. 

In training you will see heaps of P zeros and a lot of P1s and P2s. The herd thins after that and finding a G level in normal training is not a regular occurence in a lot of clubs. The only people with G or even E patches that most students get to see are their instructors. 

And then you go to a grading and you get to meet a guy from the Global Instructor Team. 

Throughout my time doing Krav there are names that have sent shivers down the spine and made throats go dry. Names that make many a practitioner’s pupils dilate and struck fear into the hearts of those who are about to grade.

Stories I heard on hearsay could be summed up like this:

Eyal is the boss. Trained by Imi Lichtenfeld himself. Late 50s and still a badass. Master level 3 and has been doing Krav Maga for over five decades. Fights like a cross between the Terminator and a ballet dancer. Does Yoga every day. 

Zeev is the next most senior. A Master level 1. Invented the Kids Instructor Course. A former career soldier** and disciplinarian. Has failed people at G and E level gradings for being too injured to continue. Once failed an entire P4 grading after spending just 10 minutes watching them. The Gordon Ramsay of Krav Maga. 

Tommy Blom. Scary, with a beard. A man of few words. The first man behind Eyal and Zeev to make E5. Intense stare. Former MMA fighter. Doesn’t smile a lot

Rune Lind. Expert level 4. Smiling yet huge, hulking Viking of a man. Mild mannered yet strict.

Etc.

These images and impressions I had of these guys were based solely on seeing them from across a room, in photos and by heresay reputation.

Then I met them.

Eyal was a nice guy, quietly spoken and very friendly. When he offered me the chance to fight the Bullet Men he smiled and asked “Do you want to do it?” Has a sense of humour and puts people at ease in training. I have interviewed him a few times for my blog and he’s always got time to answer questions.

Zeev was also a nice guy. I did the Kids Instructor Course with him in Israel in 2016 and he was reassuring and supportive the whole way through. When I asked him about the story of the people failed after 10 minutes he simply laughed and said it wasn’t true. Gave me constructive feedback during and after the KIC and was clearly idolised by the kids in his club. 

Tommy was…another nice guy. Met him briefly in Israel and we had a chat about stuff, including his E5 grading. Smiled a few times and was very friendly.

Rune. Took my P1, P3 and GIC part 1. Easy going and…yep! Another nice guy. Reassuring, easy going and a great teacher. 

The ONLY thing that matched up with what I’d heard about these guys was that they expected us to work hard in training. 

In 2015 both Eyal and Zeev were at the P&G camp held in Essex. Being England in Winter the weather was its usual, dreary British drizzle and both of them left training to to back to their hotel wearing light waterproof jackets with the hoods up and looking nothing out of the ordinary. The two most senior Krav Maga teachers IN THE WORLD would have blended in to any crowd. 

Fear in training can be dealt with as it’s something you confront at least once a week if you go regularly. Fear of people you haven’t met yet is another thing entirely. You form images in your mind and kerosene is thrown on the fire by your anxieties. Failing people for being too injured to continue isn’t the actions of a bastard once you think about it. A driving test would be discontinued and rescheduled if another car drove into yours halfway through the exam….regardless of whose fault the accident was. 

The Master Effect is another barrier to being able to concentrate, and it’s only through having met the guys above that I realised that what you hear about people from other people should be taken with a pinch of salt. 

However, I have yet to meet Ilya Dunsky….

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** Can't say just "soldier" as that would include anyone, male or female, over 18 in Israel.

After A While...

As I sit here, my hips aching and bruises in places that I didn’t know I even had places, there’s a temporary reprieve from the last 12 days.

I’ve just finished the final exam for the General Instructors Course, or GIC. This is run by Krav Maga Global and, if you pass it, means you become an instructor for the organisation and obtain at least a Graduate 1 grade (after all, you have to be at least a G1 to teach Practitioners 1 to 5). There are myths, rumours and even substantiated claims of some GIC candidates passing out with a G2 or even a G3 patch, some of which were not even a P5 when they went in.

My body is, to put it politely, completely f**ked. This was the second part of the training. In April up in the Gold Coast of Australia, I did part 1. That was the initial chunk, the first half. The reason that KMG no longer do the course Monday to Saturday with Sundays off, is that 24 days in a row is unsustainable for anyone except badasses who have just come out of the army or those who run ultramarathons for a hobby. 

After 10 weeks off, we then came back to Melbourne and began phase 2. Another 12 days. I have been pushed both physically and emotionally to my absolute frigging limits. I’ve felt like giving up, I’ve taken cocktails of painkillers, I’ve eaten like a pregnant Sumo wrestler and not put on an ounce in fat. Seven to eight hours a day of fighting training. Not just learning HOW to fight but learning how to teach OTHERS to fight….and also how not to.

Having to learn technical skills, then write down the technique, then have to teach it. It’s been beyond hard. This was a course I came into knowing it would be something to test my limits. I nearly didn’t come back for the second part, seriously considering “losing” my passport so I could get my non-refundable, return ticket from London to Melbourne refunded. 

As the days went by, in both phases, I gritted my teeth and marked off little points of victory.

Survived the first day. Whoopee!

Got through the first quarter (3rd day). Awesome!

Got to the end without being injured to the point of having to withdraw! Brilliant!

We also had homework to do almost daily. Lesson plans, theory revision and also a test on Krav that we were obliged to spend a great deal of time doing properly with a pass mark of 75%. I got 88% and momentarily felt immortal. 

Then we had the teaching test. I was assigned “Release from static choke from behind”. I had to teach this to six of my peers. I passed that test too and my hopes were high for the grading on the final day. 

There had been 15 of us but one person had to drop out due to injury. 14 candidates on test day. I shouted “Who else hasn’t got a partner?” and I got the huge Serbian guy. 

We started and it went on and on and on. After 4-ish hours we began sparring and my badass partner virtually handed me my ass. Seriously don’t think I’ve ever been roundhoused in the head in a standing position before. Determined to at the very least, stand my ground, I did exactly that, too tired and too inflexible in the back hips to try and retaliate in kind. As we tumbled to the floor my adrenalin kicked in and I could hear myself yelling “F**K YOU! YOU F**KING C**T!!” before he got me in a choke hold and I had to tap out.

The sparring and ground fighting finally came to a close and with my clothes sodden in sweat and my hair hanging so far over my face that I had about 30% visibility, I joined the other guys for the icing on the cake. 50 push ups, 60 sit ups, 70 squats and 20 brownies (imagine if a burpee decided to become a Satanist…THAT’S a brownie).

Staggering off the mats I gulped down literally about 2 litres of water and forced granola bars and glucose gel into my bruised stomach. The Serbian guy was next to me and I said “Don’t take the swearing personally, I don’t really think you’re a c**t”. 

He chuckled and said, wiping sweat from his forehead, “It’s OK, you needed the adrenalin rush”.

Now…about half an hour after the final test has ended, we are sat facing the examiner. Franklyn Hartkamp. Expert level 4 in KMG and a part of the Global Instructor Team. A nice guy, with a sense of humour but I have no illusions about any one of us being given the GIC unless we deserve it. 

He starts with my Serbian partner and after brief feedback tells him he passed and we all clap and smile at the guy, pleased for him yet still cacking it for ourselves. Franklyn then moves to another guy, feedback given, constructive criticism forthcoming and he too has passed. Then it’s the guy’s partner and yet another pass. As Franklyn moves around the candidates, he is giving the feedback to the partners who trained and fought together in the test. This sets off my internal alarm bells. I was bypassed after my Serbian roundhouser buddy. I think maybe I haven’t made it after all.

The feedback moves on and on, each person being told they’ve passed and all of us clapping and offering words of congratulations. Then finally someone has failed. The feedback is fair, the tone level and friendly but Franklyn says that some more time is needed before this person can retest. I see the crestfallen look in their eyes and the hurt and pain and realise that feeling is something I’m going to be getting soon. But I hold out hope that maybe….maybe not.

Finally everyone else has had their feedback. 13 passes, 1 fail. Franklyn says “Is there anybody else?” and I raise my hand.

He looks at me and after a slight pause says, “After a while I stopped writing”.

I know in that moment that it’s over.

I had kind of guessed this would happen. I’ve been backpacking for the last 8 months and my training has been, to put it mildly, sporadic. While travelling in Australia and New Zealand I trained now and then. While in Greece with my father I would travel once a week-ish to a club 57 miles away  to train. I hadn’t done enough and deep down I knew that. I decided to go for it anyway though, determined not to be Schrodinger’s Pussy.

I feel calm, not upset or bitter like I imagined I might. Franklyn compliments me on my theory and teaching results and says that he’d like me to wait at least a year before trying again for the grading. You are allowed 3 fails of techniques on a GIC grading. I clearly hurtled past that number if he stopped taking notes or evaluating me. I thank him for his feedback and say that I accept 100% responsibility for failing. I also add that I’ll be back. Franklyn smiles and puts on a Schwarzenegger accent, repeating “I’ll be back!!”

We all then stand up and those who passed get their T-shirts, G1 patches and certificates. Excitedly they rip open the packaging and pull the shirts on. It reminds me of Christmas morning. I feel a little sad but resigned to the situation, knowing that this isn’t personal and with enough work I can come back, try again and pass.

Then the guys start posing for photos and me and the other failee are stood at the side. I have to turn away at this point, the disappointment and the realisation of what I’ve failed to achieve hitting me hard. 

I move to the changing room and a few minutes later a couple of guys join me, both saying they’re sorry and shaking my hand. I tell them I’m pleased for them and I mean it. I’ve trained with them for just shy of a month and they deserve what they’ve achieved.

After a few goodbyes I make my way back to my lodgings. My friends there initially refuse to believe I failed but cheer me up with hugs and reassurances about the future. 

I get a shower and change and then head back out for the final dinner with my fellow trainees. The mood is good, and although Franklyn couldn’t make it we send him some photos via WhatsApp and wolf down steak and ice cream in a great, riverside restaurant. The Serbian guy sits next to me and grinning, points to a cut on his lower lip. “You did that”, he says.

“Seriously? I actually landed one on you?”

He smiles again and replies “Yes, you fought well”.

After a few hours I say my final goodbyes to the guys and go home. I sleep until about 12pm the next day and the day after I’m on a plane home. 13 hours to Abu Dhabi, 7 hour stopover then a further 7 hours to London. 

Hubba! Hubba!

My body aches all over, my hips feel like they are at least 20 degrees out of alignment. My appetite is still raging and now I have about a 30 hour journey ahead of me to get home. 

I took GIC and I failed it. Of the initial 15, one guy had to stop due to injury. Me and one other failed the final test.

Was it worth it?

Of course it was!

The GIC Hump

The reality of day 7 of the Krav Maga General Instructors Course (2nd phase).

6am. Wake up and find you have absolutely no desire to go to training. Eat a 4 egg omelette, a big bowl of muesli (with soy milk) and 2 very strong filter coffees. Get your shit together and traipse off to the train station with your legs hurting from the previous 6 days of training, grizzling to yourself that the weather has the temerity to be 2 degrees above freezing.

8.15am. Get to training and realise you absolutely do not want to be there. Decide to get changed anyway and wonder how long it is till lunch time, knowing full well that it's at least 4 hours away.

8.30am to 1pm. Spend your time doing bear hug releases, throws and knife attacks. Your body is protesting at the abuse you've put it through for the last week for 7+ hours a day, every day. You find that you can't remember things that you absolutely should know by this point and wing it when you are asked "Do you know this technique?" Your knees feel like they are full of sulfuric acid and every time you make a mistake you feel like the whole world hates you. It is taking most of your stamina to stay in the room and you secretly entertain the idea that getting injured would enable you to be invalided off the course without being perceived as a quitter. You then spend 30 minutes feeling guilty for thinking that. You take 2 Ibuprofen and 1 Paracetomol and a sachet of glucose sport gel.

A surprise lesson is then sprung on you where you have 2 minutes to plan and teach any technique from that morning. You silently curse the unfairness of life while frantically scribbling on your notepad.

You feel like having a little cry in the corner but summon reserves of energy that you didn't know you had. You forget the names of about 4 people in the room and want nothing more than to go home and go back to bed.

As you break for lunch you feel that your body is completely wrecked and that life cannot get any worse.

1.30pm The double shot espresso that you just drank, plus a huge tuna salad and the painkillers and the glucose gel have all combined to give you a lift of energy. Your self pity has evaporated and you have a pleasant lunch with 2 of your fellow trainees where you even laugh a couple of times. You head back to the training centre looking forward to the afternoon session.

2.30pm. You start a workshop on some rather crafty fighting tactics involving some rather painful takedowns and throws. You thoroughly enjoy yourself and make a note to use the "Grab The Leg, Kick The Groin" roundhouse kick defence at the earliest opportunity.

5pm. You wrap up the day's training feeling tired but exhilarated, realising that you learned a great deal. You confide in an existing instructor that you felt like quitting today and she says with a grin "That's called the hump. You've just got over it. Mine was on day 5".

The Gates

As I get older I am into what has turned out to be a wonderful phase of my life. That is (drum roll)...being comfortable being within my own limitations.

Most of my life has been spent trying to live up to some virtually unattainable "other" side of myself that I thought was what people wanted to see.

Like a lot of middle class English kids, I grew up being told that certain clothes were for "best". That meant virtually no pleasure could be derived from wearing them as I had to stand still and try not to let air touch my "best" trousers or my "special" coat. I vividly recall the genocidcal rage my mother flew into when my younger brother came into the house in his bestest trousers....splattered with mud after being knocked down by a friend as a joke. This wasn't done with any malice but as my old dear had to have someone to blame, in order to vent her spleen, she blamed my bro' as he had "allowed it to happen".

But I digress.

I always used to envy the very few people I'd see, who appeared comfortable in their own skins. People who appeared happy with their lot and wore everything they put on with ease and a sense of feeling OK with the world. Not concerned with pettiness or shallow praise, they were "normal" in the most extreme sense of the word. Able to enjoy the gift of being alive and move through life treating emotions like the tides of the sea; natural and part of living.

I've spent most of my life trying to always get one better on myself. No matter what I did there was always that nagging belief that I should still try just one more notch higher at the very least.

In Krav Maga gradings I have summoned energy from rations I never knew I had hidden within me. For someone who is only reasonably fit, doing a 3.5 hour technique based exam, followed by 30 minutes of sparring, followed by whatever evil shit the examiners make you do at the very end (usually push ups, sit ups and burpees)...will sap your energy like bloatware on a smart phone. As if I was some Antarctic explorer, finding his way back to the food parcel I'd left two weeks before on the frozen ice drifts, rocked by blizzards I would struggle to carry on but carry on I would. The energy was found but anyone who's graded higher than a P2 in Krav will know the pure pain of this experience.***

Yet, even though I gave my all, as I struggled out of my soaking wet, torn T-shirt and guzzled Lucozade there was that whiny voice in my head telling me that just maybe I could have done more. Either in the weeks beforehand at the gym, in order to boost my cardio, or on the day itself with some indefinable extra "stuff".

Photo by Bartosz, Krav Maga Midlands

Recently I have started talking to a lady friend of mine. It turns out we have similar feelings towards each other and have had for a long time, but neither let the other know until recently. Once we got past the astonished "I just wondered, did you ever? All the time?!!" stage we began chatting a lot about our lives and for once I decided to do an utterly unheard of and radical thing and simply not beef up or embellish anything.

I stated how much I thought about her and how much I wanted to see her every day but I didn't lie about my sexual proclivity or prowess. I contradicted her statement that I'd have "girls all over me" when on holiday with the news that because I'm usually drinking heavily, I'm not interested in banging everything that has a vagina and a passport saying "Female".

For once I wanted to actually be "real" about myself and not try and hit some higher note in the hope of making a better impression.

I also figured out why I bite my nails so badly. A dirty habit that I have been unable to stop...until recently. At school I did it due to the constant bullying and fear of abuse. Decades later...well, I was at a loss. The reality was that like many people I wasn't satisfied with who I was and was constantly trying to chip away at the "not quite good enough" version of me to find a shiny, better one underneath. Akin to a stonemason with a hammer and chisel, I was waiting for something better to emerge from the ugly, raw rock that stood facing the world.

The gates over my true facets and traits have been there for a very long time. There was the one that barred the way to my insecurities. Another that hid my fears over fighting (although I dismantled it a few years ago and then rebuilt it with a freshly oiled hinge and no lock). There was yet another that wondered if my fashion sense was just a bit shy of being cool enough to hang out in public.

Overall the gates existed for very good reasons. We are all to some extent, afraid of being hurt. By peers, by friends, by enemies, by those we love or admire. We move through life trying to avoid as much pain as possible while taking in the pleasures that we can.

What I have found over the last year or so is that to fully be immersed in pleasure, you have to leave the gates open. If you do then you will become happy with your life but may chance upon pain if it slips through the opening. The alternative is that you bar everything from entering your life, experiencing neither pleasure nor pain.

Live like someone left the gate open.

Nuff said.

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*** Although this seems to fade the higher up you go. I saw the G4 and G5 candidates sparring a while back at G camp. Fitness levels well within endurable parameters (although one guy did have about 15 treacly flapjacks in a box by the side).

KMM Pre-grading & Grading- P1 to P5

26th September and 3rd October 2015

Stratford upon Avon High School, UK

In the build up to the latest set of gradings KMM ran our usual pre-grading seminar. All the sweat and joy of a real grading and the Krav equivalent of a dress rehearsal. Instructors Al Natrins (G2) and Russell Brotherston (G5) who also work with kids at Junior Safe Krav Maga, had organised the whole thing, with Al leading the seminar on the day.

For the first time there was to be a grading in our neck of the woods. Usually the gradings are held down south (Bristol and London) and one in Cumbria. After double bookings at a grading in Birmingham in 2013 on two separate occasions, KMG UK had not used the venue again. Bartosz, the chief instructor of KMM had arranged for it in Stratford upon Avon, at our usual training ground at the High school. Good news for most of us that wanted to grade. Well, except me who was walking on crutches after a operation to repair the ACL in my left knee. Determined to remain 'in the spirit of things' I arranged to write this review of both events which would also enable me to get some intel on training and watch my peers grade for P5 on the big day.

At the pre grading was a familiar face. Peter Santha had trained at Leamington Spa with me about two years ago but I hadn't seen him in ages. He had now rejoined the Worcester branch with Al, and was training for P1. He said "I'm feeling good, pretty excited. I'm hopeful for the day itself."

I also spoke to Karl Dann who trains at Coventry and was prepping for P2. He told me "Looking forward to it. Been doing it for nine months, twice a week so yeah."

The seminar started with the usual warm ups and then the students split off into their relevant levels. As always, the main bunch were going for P1 and Darren Patrick from Leamington was the only P5 candidate in the room. Normally the P1 gradings are held in house and separately to the P2 to P5 exams. This time however, the venue was KMM's own, so the events were able to be run simultaneously.

As the students got stuck into their various drills and techniques, it was clear that some were nervous and most were determined to get it right. Al was walking round with a clipboard marking notes and giving feedback. Due to being on crutches I couldn't get too "up close and personal" so sat at the side watching. It was inspiring to see the level of effort people were giving and later on during a quick water break, I spoke to Al directly.

"It's going well so far. Everyone's looking at the level they should be, with some corrections here and there. For next week, people can judge you kindly or not so kindly. We shall see."

Grading Day

03/10/15

Felt a bit sheepish as I arrived at Stratford High School at 9.30am to find no one even remotely Kravvy there. Once I burned all my paranoid delusions over why (prime theory being that they had told ME it was here, and told everyone else the real venue) I rang Russell. Turned out the grading was midday and I'd got it wrong. Oops! Nipped home for a cup of coffee and then came back, reassured by the sight of Bartosz's KMM van parked right outside the training hall.

Most of the guys stood at the sides of the hall were from Krav Maga Midlands but there were a few others dotted about from other clubs including Total Krav Maga and Krav Maga South Wales. Everyone seemed nervous and I managed to grab a few words. P3 candidate Ewa seemed composed and calm and said to me "I'm feeling realistic. I know what I'm capable of and I'm going to give it my best".

Her club mate Goz said, "Ready to switch the aggression mode on. I give it everything I've got. I'm with Ewa who's my grading partner extraordinaire, so we'll help each other and do what we can."

Rich Coulthard from Krav Maga South Wales was there for P3 and said "I'm a bit nervous with the adrenaline, just want to get on with it. Feel confident with the instruction I've had but always a few nerves before you start." 

There was also Edmund Sobszak in the hall, a G3 instructor from Nick Maison's Total Krav Maga, there for his own students going for P4.

Text messages were coming in from people who hadn't got to the venue yet. There had been a bad accident on one of the major arterial roads leading into Stratford and a few candidates were stuck. Fortunately, whatever it was was cleared quite quickly as the students arrived flustered but only slightly later than the scheduled start time and we had yet to get things moving.

Once Jon Bullock, the head of Krav Maga Global UK and Alan Dennis an E1 instructor arrived, the students began to register. As they queued up I spoke to Rhiannon Williams, a P1 student from the Worcester club who was there with her friend Ellen Vogel to offer support to their club mates. They trained with Al Natrins who had also come to fly the flag. She said "It's going to be quite interesting I think. It's going to be good to actually see it happen, the P1. Last time we graded in July we were in the thick of it so it will be good to see the P1 and also what the P2 will be like."

Ellen said "Be good to get an outsider's perspective and see what's coming up in the gradings."

Once everyone had registered they sat in a huddle in front of the examiners. Jon Bullock addressed them and asked who was nervous. After establishing that ALL were nervous and getting a ripple of laughter, he established a few truths about the grading. He asked if Krav Maga was the ultimate system and after a pause added "No, of course not. Does it give you a fighting chance? Yes." He then said something that I could personally relate to, having failed P5 last March. "The higher people go the more they focus on stuff only from their own level. By P5 you're out of luck if that's what you do."

He went on to say that the primary concern in the grading was to keep your partner safe and that if he saw anyone going too hard during the sparring he would fail them on the spot. The secondary concern was to pass the exam. Bartosz then repeated that the most important thing was not to injure each other and then the warm up began. After getting everyone good and sweaty they split into their various levels with P1 at the far end and 2 to 5 at the other. There were only three candidates for P5, all KMM students with four going for P4, two from Total Krav Maga. Once everyone was lined up Bartosz reminded the P1s to keep the positions they were in now as they needed to remember where they were standing as they marked the score sheets. On bigger gradings your place will be noted with number that you are issued with that you pin to the back of your T-shirt. On smaller gradings they rely on numbers and A and B (sometimes C if there's a group of 3).

People got stuck in pretty quickly and as the day progressed you could see the guts and determination on everyone's faces. P1 by its nature is not the gruel fest that P4 and 5 are, but the students were still giving it 100%. As I moved up the lines it was fascinating to see all the levels like this, something I'd glimpsed briefly at the P&G weekend last December but not with such an uninterrupted view. There's a certain change in facial expression that you can see as you move from P1 to P5. The determination and grit are always there but when you reach the summit of the practitioner grades, you have a certain steel in your eyes because you know JUST how hard your grading is going to be.

P1 were being overseen by Russell and Bartosz while P2 and P3 had Alan Dennis. Alan called them into a huddle on a few occasions and explained what was lacking in a technique that he felt needed correction. Jon Bullock had the P4s and 5s and all seemed to be giving it a good show, despite the obvious tiredness that was creeping up on them like vapour on a bathroom mirror.

Me, Ellen and Rhiannon stepped out for coffees and when we got back the P1s and 2s were setting out mats for forwards and backwards rolls. This has always been a bone of contention for me as it took me a while to crack them properly. By the time of P4 you are required to learn "forwards to backwards" which sounds OK until you find out you can't stop or stand up between them. Thankfully, all the candidates had the rolls more or less down properly. An addition thrown in by Alan Dennis on P2 had the students rolling, then being immediately attacked by whoever was behind them. This was a novel twist as it meant you had to keep sharp and act on instinct for the most part.

Finally the P2s and 3s finished and shortly after the P1s made their way to the side. All were sweating and red faced but looking like they'd enjoyed it. I spoke to Dan Robinson from KMM who'd just completed P2. He said "I'm feeling strong but it was very tough, we'll see how I get on".

I spoke again to Ewa who said "I'm absolutely and utterly shattered. Should be OK. Never say never".

Goz wearily told me, "I feel exhausted, challenged mentally. To be honest I'm not at all very confident at this moment but what will be will be".

While Ps 1 to 3 took a well deserved rest and had something to eat and drink, the P4s and 5s were gearing up for the sparring. Having lost a piece of a tooth on my P4 grading and about two litres of sweat on the P5 one, I was well aware of what the guys were about to face. Alan Dennis oversaw them and as there was an odd number he had them in pairs fighting, with a 'rogue element' roaming the floor and randomly picking on one person in an existing couple. Whoever they attacked would then have to break off and become the new rogue element. They went at it for about six rounds before Alan called them to a huddle, briefed them on what they'd seen and then said. "You all OK? Good, because you've got one more round to go". They went at it again, everyone giving it their full commitment and then had to face the joys of two against one. The whole point of this is to see if you can remain focussed despite the utter exhaustion you are experiencing. Adrenaline and pride were the only things that kept me going last time in March and it was clear just how much some of the fighters were now hurting as they drew up reserves of energy to finish what they'd started.

Finally the fighting was done but the grading wasn't over. Alan got them all into push up position and after conferring with Jon Bullock they got the P4s to do forty push up while P5 had the added bonus of going up to 50. They moved on to burpies and sit ups before finally the end was in sight and they finished.

After a quick wipe down and gulping some water the students split back up into their requisite grades and sat on the floor around the examiners who'd tested them. Bartosz and Russell got down and demonstrated a few techniques that people had found hard and as I moved further up the hall, Alan and Jon were doing the same. Jon used Al Natrins as a partner to demonstrate what he thought needed work while telling the students their grades. Most had passed but not all and Jon gave constructive feedback to those who hadn't made it. I was surprised when he said "If you tell me now that you disagree with me and that you believe you've done enough to pass then I will sign your certificate and give you your patch but do you want that?" The offer was declined and it made it clear that commitment is one thing but an open mind and an acceptance of criticism are also fundamental. I can't deny that I'd have been tempted to take the offer but ultimately, as Jon said to my grading group way back when I took P3, "From this point it's no longer about collecting patches."

As people moved back to get a fresh T-shirt or chat to family and friends things began to wind down. Everyone lined up for a final photo and the awarding of certificates while the steam slowly evaporated from the sports hall windows.

Once again a fantastic day, bonus for me being that I got to see it from the point of view of a spectator to get some hints for March 2016 when I'm fit to grade once more.