During my early years of practicing Kuk Sool I
never really placed that much emphasis on achieving my black belt, I just
focused on the training and took each grade as it came.
It wasn't until about five years down the line that
I became conscious that I was actually starting to get somewhere. The training
was becoming more and more intense and because of this several of my classmates
had already decided to call it a day. In fact out of forty members that had
initially started alongside me, there were only now three of us left on course for
black belt.
At this stage our Instructor informed all three
of us that in order to reach this prestigious level, we would have to complete
a special black belt candidate training programme, which he’d specifically
designed. This meant carrying out three-months of intensive training, combined
with our normal weekly practice. These ‘special’ sessions would take place on
Sunday mornings from 6am – 12noon and would incorporate all aspects of martial
art practice.
It was toward the end of February 1985 that our first session was
scheduled. All of the additional training would take place at our Instructor's home,
approximately thirty-miles from where I lived. I remember waking up early on that
very first morning and feeling rather anxious not knowing what to expect. I’d
arranged to call-in and pick up one of my training partners along the way,
while our other classmate would make his own way there.
Upon arrival at our Instructor's house, the two
of us got out of the car and casually strolled toward the side entrance of his
property. It was still dark and there was a noticeable chill in the air. As we
approached the back door ready to knock, I turned and whispered jokingly to my
pal, "I bet he's tucked up in bed with his teddy bear." No sooner had
I mentioned those words, we suddenly heard a loud noise directly behind us, the
next thing... I felt something strike me really hard several times on my back. My
friend also witnessed a similar painful sensation. We quickly turned and saw our Instructor
standing there poised like a deadly Ninja Assassin.
He was actually waiting for us up on his garage roof and upon entering his garden he made his move - leaping down to the
ground and battering us with two bamboo swords. After administering the beating he stood there motionless, looked at us straight in the eye and shouted -
"you're both dead." The two of us just looked at each other in complete
shock, not knowing what to say or do next.
Although painful, the blows didn’t
damage us in anyway. Upon reflection it was probably one of the best lessons
that we would encounter in all of our martial art training. Once we'd recovered
from our surprise attack our Instructor then quizzed us about the whereabouts
of our third training partner. We explained that we honestly didn't know where
he was. He then told us to go and find him and not to come back without him.
We drove twenty miles to the place where our
friend lived. We could see upon approaching his house that the curtains were
still closed and there was no sign of any movement. We knocked on his front
door…there was no answer. Out of desperation we then progressed in throwing small
stones at his bedroom window, however still nothing. We ran down to the nearest
telephone box and dialed our friend’s telephone number.... there was still no
reply.
The next step was to telephone our Instructor
and explain to him that there was no sign of our classmate. After speaking and
telling him about the situation, his immediate response was " it’s all three of you or
none of you." He then went on to say that in light of the current
situation our first training session had been cancelled. In addition to this,
he told us that the three of us were also banned from training at our martial
art club for one week.
I have to admit at the time I felt totally
aggrieved concerning the punishment that we'd received. I just couldn’t
understand why our Instructor had penalised us all? I guessed that he just wanted the
three of us to act like a team. At a later date we discovered that our absent training
partner had missed the session because he’d had an argument with his wife,
she'd obviously put her foot down for him not to attend. We didn’t hold this
against him and understood that it was challenging times for all of us.
The following week we all stayed away from our club like had been requested. Our Instructor sent us a further message
saying that he would allow us ‘one last chance’ to make the following
Sunday morning. This time if any of us failed to turn up that would definitely be
it; we'd all have to wait a minimum of one year to re-apply for black belt.
The following Sunday all three of us arrived
at our Instructor’s house, thankfully on time. We immediately checked the garage roof and
other obvious hiding places, but on this occasion our mentor was nowhere to be
seen. As we entered the garage we discovered a small note stuck on the side of
the wall. The message informed us that our first task was to thoroughly clean out
his dusty old garage until it was absolutely spotless. The note also mentioned that
this garage was to be our training room or Dojang; a sacred place that we should come
to respect over the next few months.
We brushed, cleaned and scrubbed every inch of the garage almost non-stop for approximately two hours. Our Instructor
eventually emerged from his house and casually strolled down the garden to
inspect the garage (Dojang). I remember feeling really pleased with our efforts
and thought because of all this hard work it would now be time to begin our
martial art training. I was wrong - our Instructor had other ideas. He
informed us that we had completed our task for that particular morning and sent us
home without any practice at all.
Our Instructor was now pushing us harder and
harder than ever before. We always knew that he would challenge us mentally and
physically in a variety of different ways. He literally changed from being this
mild-mannered gentleman into a Sergeant-Major type of figure, barking out orders in your face. We realised that he was now throwing everything at us, including
the kitchen sink and was just waiting to see if any of us would crack under the
pressure.
During one particular evening our Sabumnim (Instructor) informed us that he’d arranged a special treat. I was always wary of any
special occurrences, as I knew that they’d be a twist involved somewhere. On
this particular occasion he had arranged for us to have a whole night of
sparring against a couple of senior grade practitioners from another local Club.
Basically he’d invited these guys to come along and kick-our-butts.
Sparring at that time was definitely not for
the feint hearted. Performed at an advanced level it was literally a full contact affair with kicking,
punching, throwing and takedowns and without the use of any sparring protection.
Despite being pitched against top-notch exponents, the three of us were
certainly not fazed by the contest. If we lacked skill and expertise against these
guy’s we certainly made up for it with enthusiasm and self-belief.
At the time all three of us were at peak
physical condition. It was that night I discovered that I was more
than capable in defending myself in any given situation. My two fellow
classmates and I more than held our own against these two vastly more
experienced practitioners. Despite their intentions to teach us a lesson,
we literally turned the tables and sent these two senior grades home with their
bodies and ego’s battered and bruised.
Meanwhile back at the Dojang - Our Sunday
morning sessions continued and consisted of the following regime: 6am - 7am cleaning the Dojang / 7am - 8am running + assault course / 8am - 8.30am meditation practice / 8.30am - 9am breakfast & nutrition lecture / 9.30am - 10am weight & fitness training
/ 10am -12noon martial art training.
All of our Sunday
morning sessions would begin with a three-mile run over an assault course. It really felt like we were being trained to become Royal Marines. At the time we didn’t
care about anything; not even the British weather could deter us. We ran in the
snow, wind and rain and never missed a morning’s running during those three months.
Toward the end of
our of black belt candidate training programme, we recognised that we had literally given everything that we
had to give; including blood, sweat and tears. Our Instructor had pushed our minds and bodies to
the absolute limit and somehow we had all managed to survive and come through this ordeal in one piece.
On the last Sunday
morning of training, our Instructor stood there in his formal stance and subsequently announced that all three of us had all graduated from his “boot camp” and were now ready for our final exam. We were of course elated at the result and realised that together we were now heading toward our final test for black belt.
