Coursework: Descriptive writing: Now and Then. JuiJitsu Grading Before and After
The wide spread anticipation spiralled around the huge hall. It built up the already clenching tension in your muscles that your pre-stretching didn’t seem to help whatsoever. The only thing that relaxed you even slightly, was the fact that you knew for certain that you were not the only one experiencing the anxiety. The room was still and silent. The silence? No, the silence was not peaceful, it was a nervous silence; one that struck discipline into all of the students, their belts wrapped far too tightly around their Gis. The silence was only broken by the sound of crashing mats, bashing against your eardrums, as they were thrown on the ground and arranged neatly into a large rectangular area. Your anticipation began to become even more intense.
The rows of white belts where disrupted by the occasional black belt inspecting them. Analysing. Evaluating. Intimidating. It was not purely terrifying however. You felt a buzz, a rush. Adrenaline surging through your body as you began to comprehend that your moment was hastily approaching. You breath in and out deeply but the air seems thick. It strikes you that your whole body is tense, you fists are clenched and your legs are tight. Your body relaxes and you begin to except that this is your time, your chance to prove your self. It is at that moment that everything seems to come to a stand still. Your perception rises and you begin to accumulate a sense restlessness. You notice the one drop of sweat making its way down your outer left thigh that would usually slip by unnoticed. Is this why you train in martial arts? Is this the thrill you have been waiting for? You realise you are holding up the queue, the wait is over.
You listen to the first group executing their rolls in perfect synchronisation. They smash against the ground as one causing vibrations to reach across the mats, underneath your knees and along your shins. A breeze brushes past your back and you follow the feeling along the row of kneeling students tracing it back to the door that had been slightly left open. Before you know it you’re standing in the position that has tested your nerve all day. You know your timing is key but your reactions are still slow and your first roll is behind. The split second interval between you and the rest of the group touching the floor seems like a century. From here you know its only a downwards spiral as with each motion you get further and further behind. You scold yourself for that very disappointing start.
Aches, pains and anxiety quickly become overwhelmed by the deep stench of the sweat residing in the man’s armpit that your head is trapped in. The attack on your senses brings you back to reality, enough to make you realize that you have yet to prove yourself. You stand in the middle of the circle with your hair wet from your own exhaustion. You wait decisively for your first attacker. You can already here people from other groups being thrown to the ground and you question why no one has attacked you yet. You let your gaze zoom in on a singular student isolating the two of you from the rest of the group. He knows he has to attack now. The punch glides towards you and you step to the side allowing the cuff of his blood stained gi to brush past your cheek and over your shoulder. You grab his arm and apply the lock perfectly, finishing with a scruffy but surprisingly effective throw.
You and the rest of the students stand in a large semicircle around the edge of the mats. By the look on the sensei’s face you know you have done it. Belts undone, bloody noses, sweaty foreheads and scruffy hair. Mutual respect circulates around the room because you all understand each other in a way that normal conversation could not provoke.