Tim Walker’s Graded

From the Japanese ‘gentle skill’, practisers of jiu-jitsu wear belts awarded in the following order: white, blue, purple, brown, black.

Within those colours are separate levels, grades, or tabs which indicate progress through the grade; yet training four to five, or even six times a week, generally, to progress through the stages of white to black belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, unlike, for example taekwondo, where an intense training regime might be expected to yield a black belt in approximately four years, is likely to still take somewhere over ten years.

Having begun a twice weekly training schedule with Axis Martial Arts fifteen months ago but not believing my attendance to be necessary at the first of the six-monthly grading days – I did make a point to head along to the second one in December of last year because, while I didn’t realistically feel that I deserved to receive a tab so early in my martial arts career, the after-function for the second grading was much more geographically convenient than the typically central Christchurch location of the others, thus I was keen to go and I would have felt cheap going to the after-party without at least enduring a grading – therefore Saturday, I attended my second ever grading day.

Such is the plethora of content to learn in the art of jiu-jitsu, such are the number of techniques – as well as the smoothness and finesse of movement that comes with those skills – by the time a student finally wins the honour of wearing a coloured belt, Axis Martial Arts likes to make damn sure that student deserves it.

In order to make it into the Wainoni Road dojo on time I estimated I should leave a good hour before proceedings began; this it turned out ensured I arrived on Saturday a little over quarter of an hour early, which I consider just enough time to conduct a basic warm up for my aging body.

The day began with a rigorous group warm-up, which given my earlier personal efforts was downright gruelling, where we then paired up and began regular sparring sessions – five minute rounds of intense battle where the only way out is submission.

Sometime later, more exhausted, stiff, sore and ultimately broken than I can recall being, ever, the grading officially commenced.

It is definitely a peculiar sense of camaraderie that is engendered while locked in an embrace with another man, hearts pounding, muscles burning; both breathless and heavily perspiring as you do your best with what little energy your body is affording you to manipulate the limbs of your opponent into unbearable positions or, failing that, choke off the blood supply until one of you foolish children calls an end to the shenanigans by tapping out.

I was proud to hear my name called, then empowered as I stepped forward to receive my first – but not last – grading.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Ann Jury Ish

Photography by Joo Djut Sue

 

 

 

 

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