Gemma and I have just been introduced and now she is trying to strangle me again. This is not my idea of a normal night out, but for the 40 men and women learning Krav Maga, punching, kicking and choking their classmates is all par for the course.
Surrounded by muscle men dressed head to toe in black, it is hard not to feel intimidated.
I am 5ft 4in, a wimp and the nearest I have come to close combat classes is ballet.
We start the two-hour lesson with a warm-up - running round the class trying to hit other students on the head.
I am immediately hampered because I can't reach anyone's head because they are all too tall.
But I do my best to hit out while blocking hands flying towards me. It is not easy but there is much worse to come.
Eight of us have never been to Krav Maga so we are taken aside to learn some basics.
First, we are told our immediate line of defence is to run, not fight. If flight is not possible then the next thing is to be aware of your surroundings because we are told predators always hunt in packs.
Then, the knives come out. Well, plastic knives. In pairs, we learn to block stabbing motions with our wrists, while hitting our attacker and ducking - all at the same time.
Just holding the rubber knives feels wrong and seeing one aimed towards me is very unnerving.
It is confusing at first, but then the natural instincts kick in - especially when the knife starts coming towards me.
Back in the main class we learn how to fight off an attacker who is using a choke hold. After John and Simon demonstrate the best way to escape a strangle hold, it is our turn to practise in pairs.
Initially, it seems easy: grab the attacker's wrists and pull them apart while kicking them and pushing them away.
But then John tells us to really strangle one another, so our natural fear responses take over.
We also have to wait for our "attackers" with our eyes shut, ramping up the fear factor and giving them the advantage of surprise.
It is unpleasant and I can't imagine what it would be like in real life, but I manage to fight my "attacker" off.
John was right when he said size does not matter against a few strategically placed kicks and jabs.
Next day, I have bruises on my arms and neck. But I feel more confident knowing if I find myself in a dangerous situation I will have a better chance of defending myself.
(This article was reproduced with permission from the Evening Times website.)
Visit original article on Evening Times Website
