We met at 0610 for the first stage of our roadtrip. Three road warriors – Max, Stevo and l (Dan) set off to take our chances alongside 918 others at the Danish open judo cup in Odense. There was some uncertainty despite resolve as between the three of us we have a fractured shoulder, broken toe and two injured knees. Other ongoing minor injuries need not be mentioned here – such is the nature of our sport.
Car, plane, train, tram and walk got us to the weigh some fourteen hours later. Some of our friends had already arrived and were going through drills. Stevo & Max joined in. I decided that dragging the suitcase from the tramstop was adequate bloodflow for my legs.
Over night I woke often. I travel a lot and it’s usual to wake with the question ”where am l now? ” I dreamed of the podium and ran through strategies many times.
In the morning the first fights of 56 categories over the two days began. I was oldest, fattest and least skilled by my own reckoning. To make up for it I’m strong, brave and stupid. I also have a knack of getting paired with medallists in random draw tournaments and this one was no different. My plans of conquest did not dent the onslaught of the eventual bronze medallist who l met in the first round. A fine specimen quick and agile. He missed his place in the final but got silver in the 2 other categories he fought in.
My second fight was more productive with some reasonable attacks made before eventually getting strangled. No one said it would be easy. This chap went on to be 7th l think. Elsewhere Stevo and Max had similar experiences in having scraps with the podium finishers, of the three of us Max had the longest fight durations.
Others of our team were further ahead of us with wins hard fought for. The team gained two golds, two silvers & a bronze. I cheered loudly, appreciating their efforts. To fight hard and win is the story we all want to tell. I have struggled often to lose. Losses don’t discourage me and they shouldn’t trouble you either.
There are armchair experts who have opined my willingness to travel near and far for little victory to be futile. I laugh at them. The opinions of those too timid to try are not worth listening to. Fall forwards. Get up. That’s what l call progress.
The two day training camp that followed the competition was where a lot of my progress got made. You get to grip up with diverse styles and some of the champions and try things out. Captain of the winning team – a strong man called Ajax – fought a much more advanced version of the style I’m trying to develop. I got to talk to and wrestle him which proved beneficial. The opponents l gripped the following day felt the results of that coaching and l returned home with bruises, aches and triumph. New friends made, things to try, skill to hone and build on.
Stevo and Max have their yellow and purple trophies too. The twists and bumps will plague us when we are concerned again with our domestic utility. It will not deter us. We are road warriors, ever striving for experience and full of plans and hope, coming soon to a town near you.
See you down the road.
