Foregone

On Saturday 21st March 2015 I took my P5 examination but I didn't pass it.

After a gruelling test, as me and the other nine P5 candidates sat on the floor around examiner Nadav Shosan while the sweat dried on our sodden T-shirts and we sipped water from partially crushed plastic bottles, the atmosphere was tense. He briefly broke down exactly what we'd done wrong as a group and then moved on to individual feedback and scores.

I was last up (there is a yin and a yang to being the last one in the line up. During the exam, you get to see what everyone else is doing but you also have to wait a while to know your result). He looked at me and said flatly. "You need to retest everything. The spirit is there, the heart is there...but not the technique."

As previous postings on this blog have shown, I had spent time preparing both physically and mentally for the grading and was determined to take the news, either good or bad, with dignity and a positive attitude.

Nadav elaborated that I needed to work on self defence and weapons again. I replied "Do I want to know my score?" and after totting up the individual marks he said "You got 66%".

The minimum pass is 70%. I smiled and said "I'll be back in October" which got a pat on the back from my grading partner and a round of applause from the other P5 candidates.

I felt I had prepared well. I'd spent as much time as I could in front of the TV watching the P5 DVD and practicing the moves. I'd been to the revision sessions at my club and had abstained from alcohol for a week before the testing. I'd gone to bed early with a healthy, carb-heavy meal the night before and had done yoga and a cardio based regime at the gym for 5 weeks prior.

The test itself was a mixture of P4 and P5 stuff. My problem was that I'd not revised any of my P4 material and hadn't really touched it since October of last year. I knew I was making mistakes when tested on the moves but hoped the other areas would pull me through.

The sparring was the usual gruel fest. 7 rounds of 2 minutes, slightly different scenarios each time. By round 5 I had spat my gum shield out at least twice as I was struggling to breathe. After that we had 10 rounds of 4 vs 1, with two turns as the defender and 8 as an attacker holding a stick, a knife or a strike shield.

Unlike my P4 exam where I had sat waiting for my results with certain petulance about not coming back if I failed, I was pleased that this time my genuine mindset was one of acceptance and a desire to return at a later date and pass. I didn't feel bitter, or sad or angry. I was disappointed and felt the pangs as I watched the other guys get their certificates and patches.

But overall...thanks to a mixture of hard work; reading articles on both how to approach gradings and how to deal with fear; determination to give it my all and acceptance of whichever result I was to receive.

This time the work I did, unlike on the previous 4 gradings, didn't get me the new patch. What it did do however was help me to evolve. To accept feedback from the examiner at face value. To believe that my score was fair. To know that I could come back in 6 short months and try again. Above all....to take the experience as one of learning and improvement of my skills.

Nadav told me privately afterwards that I my P5 stuff was OK but the P4 stuff had let me down. He also gave me a massive ego boost when he said I'd got 8 out of 10 for my fighting...even though this is the one area I thought I was weakest on. Fact he had mentioned twice how much I had my hands down during the bouts meant that the high score was for how I approached the fights, not my skills as a fighter.

This was overall a disappointment but I regard it as something that has helped me to accept and to learn, and for that the experience was invaluable.

The Seether

As my P5 exam looms ever closer, I find myself lapsing into the type of behaviour that I indulged in just before P4, a year ago.

Bitten nails, wandering around the flat aimlessly, even more time spent on Facebook than normal, watching movies, tidying up without a real reason to and above all...worrying.

Today I was listening to some older music from my collection that I haven't played in a while. Awesome band Veruca Salt released a song back in the 90s called "The Seether." In it the singer Louise describes the rage monster that she becomes when angry. She admitted in interviews that this was something she found unable to control and would say the most terrible things to her family and friends. The song talks about "keeping her on a short leash" and "trying to knock her out" but nothing can stop "The Seether."

Louise said she regarded it as something that overcame her and made her something totally, utterly alien to her normal self. She hated how she became but like a female Hulk, sometimes her moods just could not be controlled.

My Seether is a bit less aggressive, but still a distraction. It takes over my life and makes me fret about meaningless shit. My P5 grading is important to me but failing it is NOT the end of the world. I'll repeat that for myself:

FAILING IT IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.

Even typing those words I can feel my Seether getting a bit confused. After all, he/ it sat with me loyally in the run up to P4 and dutifully got me to bite my nails to red ruin, end up taking double my prescribed dosage of beta blockers and get Oxford Dictionary Ltd to phone me up asking if I'd like to be the poster boy for the definition of the word "stress".

Today I also read this excellent and reassuring article by Jon Bullock, head of KMG UK. He gives a lot of good advice about how to approach a grading with the right mindset.

My Seether is a blunt instrument and not the most intelligent of beasts. It takes all that worry and nerves and outsources them to other areas of my life. In the days before a grading I will find myself wondering if I've got enough cat litter in the house. I'll procrastinate over the fact that I have only 2 tins of tuna instead of 3. I'll even worry about whether or not to replace my toothbrush.

My Seether isn't as extreme as Louise's but it's still there. Tonight I was mirroring the P5 techniques via the DVD on my telly, and got to the bit where Eyal Yanilov is talking about breathing techniques to remain calm and focussed. He pointedly says that if you can control your emotions you will learn to "control the fight."

My Seether makes me a shadow of the man I want to be. It makes me dithery, unfocussed, tired and panicky. It takes a wonderful experience like a Krav Maga grading and turns it into a court room appearance for a murder charge.

I will now reabsorb my Seether and change it into something called The Foundation. It will aid me in the run up to my grading in 3 days with a few nerves but more a supportive way of eating healthily, sleeping adequately and keeping myself fit for the day.

The Seether isn't a bastard. It does what it's programmed to do. It can however be retrained so it's not debilitating but an asset. 

The Gold Arrow

I was going to write this in about 2 weeks. Probably a couple of days after my P5 grading on 21st March at Hengrove Park leisure centre in Bristol.

However....

Writing it now reflects how I feel now and not how I might feel after the grading. My feelings are specific now. If I pass, my feelings will be euphoric. If I fail they will be downbeat. Beyond that I don't know. This blog is about now.

When I took P4 I was almost sick with anxiety. I desperately wanted it and regarded the stamp in my passport as a licence to stay in the Big Boys' club. P1 and P2 are, in my opinion, foundation grades. P3 and up are where the screws tighten. P4 was more than just a different patch. To me it was approval, acceptance and certification of not only my skills at that level but that I could reach as high as people I had always considered to be beyond attainment. It was a tick in a box that said "Good Enough."

I took the grading stressed beyond measure and my worries weren't grounded in fear of physical injury or my energy giving out. They were formed in a void of desperately wanting validation. I remember sitting on the floor waiting for my results and thinking that if I failed I would never grade again. I felt that if I couldn't make the Silver Arrow of P4 then what was the point of trying any more? My attempt had been invalidated.

Like a lot of people I need to feel approved of. I want that acceptance that comes from certifying life's tasks. As a Cub Scout in the 1980s I buzzed with a fierce pride at attaining the Gold Arrow while holding the rank of Sixer. I felt that these badges proved to me, my parents, my Akela and anyone who saw my green jersey, that I was someone who had tried and succeeded. The message of the Cub Scouts organisation had somehow got lost in my desire to get to the highest grade possible. While I helped old people, did 'Bob a Job' yearly and tried to be helpful it wasn't for love of aiding my fellow humans. It was to add points to a tally that would one day gain me that elusive and wonderful four bar patch (Sixer) on my arm and the Gold Arrow on my chest.

When I took P4 it was different to the previous 3 gradings. I went to London Copperbox arena to gain that patch to prove to myself and the world that I could rise higher. I never even realised this at the time but my motivation for that trip was solely to be able to say "Done that!"

In 2013 I took the PADI Rescue Diver course in Plakias, Crete. The actual test was crazy with me in control of six separate people including another diver, and having to personally bring up and deal with an "unconscious" diver. The skills required were hard to master, the stress levels were high and my adrenal gland was waving a white flag. The examiner/ diving club owner had specifically told me that if I bollocksed it up she would not hesitate to fail me. I passed and felt elated. But then I lost interest in diving. I didn't really think too much about it at the time but it was because I had my Gold Arrow. With only 17 dives under my belt I had achieved a high rank. It would look nice on my CV. Job done. Mission accomplished.

This week I've realised that I had booked P5 with the same mentality and, had I not sat down and thought about it, once I passed I would have probably let my Krav training drift and become sporadic. My fitness levels sliding slowly into a different size of jeans. After all, 5 bars on a patch looks much nicer than the 1 I'll get on the next level!!!

Now, the only validation I want is that of my chief instructor at Krav Maga Midlands and my own. If I pass the P5 test in 10 days and I will of course be happy. Fail and I'll be sad and also jealous of those who make it, but I will, for the first time be able to look at it as a learning experience and not another Gold Arrow that looked so very pretty. If I'm not successful I will come back in October and try again.

The freedom and ease this realisation has brought me can't be described. I no longer want to be at that grading for any reason other than personal pride and to learn.

“The only permission, the only validation, and the only opinion that matters in our quest for greatness is our own.”

― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience