Slowdown

I find myself in an old world. The faces are different, the belts new. But the laughter and the joy and the smell of sweat … these things, so precious to me, are still here unchanged. This is a world I told myself no longer exists, simply because the people who made it real in my mind had long left. But here I am, looking at it – some God has chipped off a piece and hidden it safe under the earth, silent behind my back. I find myself old in it.

As I change into my gi I scan the dojo – the white belters are resting in the front, on oversized fitballs we used to throw at each other. They are still doing that today – except it is no longer me and Garrick and Desmond throwing them. At the other end of the dojo there is a pile of boys, laughing. As I watch one runs and jumps and lands – bang – into the pile, and soon they are all a mess of knees and elbows.

When I spar with Tang later the Thomians sit and watch. Tang has a bone to pick with me – he once represented Sarawak but has since declined. He is my president and he is one of the most flexible fighters I have ever encountered – three of my Osotogaris whips him downwards, but like a snake he twists and never concedes a score to me. Tang throws me with a loosely controlled footsweep and I get up and we laugh.

There are two new ones today. Jeryl, Jylene’s brother, impresses all of us with a jump and a hard landing on the floor – I never dared to do anything like that before I started Judo. Carlucci sits by the windows throughout the sparring – he is panting and for once I don’t push him to get up and fight. I am beginning to realize not everyone comes to Judo to push themselves. Some, like Carlucci, just want to have fun.

Later in the class we all shout at him because he is spending too much time in the toilets.

There are some things in life that never change. I am surprised that the Thomian judo class – 10.30 to 12 with boys and laughter and body piles – is one of them.

It feels good to be back.