18 September 2026
I've been thinking about this one quite a lot since hearing that Lloyd had finally got the last 10 points he needed for his black belt.
I wasn't at the Highland Budokan Grand Prix to see him do it, but hearing that he had won gold and finally secured his 1st Dan was a really proud moment. Not just because another Ultimate Judo player had achieved a black belt, but because of who had achieved it and the journey I'd watched him take to get there.
Lloyd started judo with us when he was just nine years old. He was a young, shy boy when he first came through our doors and, over the years, we've had the privilege of watching him grow up on the mats.
When you coach someone for that length of time, you get to see much more than their judo develop.
I've watched Lloyd become an amazing young man. He's humble, disciplined, trustworthy and hardworking, and he has qualities that will take him a long way in whatever he chooses to do with his life. As a coach, that means as much to me as any medal or belt ever could.
But the black belt is special.
For most people who practise judo, achieving a black belt will be one of the biggest milestones of their judo career. Many people start judo and never reach it, because it takes time. It takes commitment. And, particularly when you follow the competitive route to a Dan grade, eventually you have to put yourself out there against your peers and see whose judo is better on that particular day.
I might be biased, but I've always felt that makes a judo black belt one of the hardest black belts to achieve.
It isn't just a technical examination or a measure of how many throws you know. The belt ends up representing all the things that happened on the way to it.
The wins are obviously part of it, but so are the losses. The good training sessions and the terrible ones. The periods when you feel you're improving every week and the periods when you feel you're going nowhere. The injuries, disappointments, mistakes, frustrations and doubts all become part of the story.
Then you come back and try again.
That's why a black belt means so much. Somewhere in that journey you've had to show resilience, heart and spirit.
Lloyd's own journey over these last couple of years has probably been one of the most rewarding parts of his development for me to watch as his coach.
When he first started trying to collect his Dan grade points, Lloyd was enthusiastic and hardworking, as he has always been, but he didn't really have his own judo yet.
He would compete in the way lots of developing judoka do. He would move, look for an opportunity, react to what was in front of him and see what happened. It wasn't bad judo, but it was reactive judo rather than Lloyd going out there knowing exactly what he wanted to create. It was always thinking, what throw should I try?
So we stripped it back.
And that takes more maturity than people perhaps realise.
Sometimes improving isn't about learning another throw or finding some magic answer that suddenly changes everything. Sometimes you have to accept that you need to go back, simplify things and really understand what you already have.
Lloyd was prepared to do that.
We looked at the throws that genuinely felt right for him and started asking why they worked. What grip did he need? What movement did he need to create? Where did he need his opponent to be? What feint or combination would create the reaction he wanted?
Slowly, we started building it back up again.
The biggest thing was that Lloyd trusted the process. There was no ego attached to it. He allowed himself to get things wrong, make small changes and keep working at them. He understood that being caught in randori was part of the process because it highlighted the weak areas we still needed to work on.
Eventually you could see the difference.
Instead of going into randori or shiai waiting to see what happened, Lloyd started hunting for his judo.
That's a big change in a player.
He now goes looking for the grip, movement and situation he wants. Of course it doesn't always work — if judo were that simple we'd all be Olympic champions — but there is a purpose to what he's doing now. He understands what he's trying to achieve rather than simply reacting to the person standing opposite him.
Then came the Highland Budokan Grand Prix.
Gold medal, the final 10 points, and after all those years, Lloyd Cameron became a 1st Dan judo black belt.
There is another part of this story that deserves mentioning, though.
His family.
When we presented Lloyd with his black belt, it was important to me that his family shared that moment with him.
Because although Lloyd is the person who had to step onto the mat, do the training and fight the contests, nobody makes a journey like this completely on their own.
His family have been a constant, stable part of it.
They've supported him through the good bits and, probably more importantly, through the difficult bits. When it would have been easier to become frustrated or give up, they were there. They genuinely believed he would achieve his black belt and continued supporting him until he did.
Years of lifts to training and competitions, waiting around sports halls, celebrating the good days and picking him up after the bad ones all sit quietly behind the moment when someone finally gets to tie that black belt around their waist.
So having them there and involving them in Lloyd's presentation felt right.
They should be incredibly proud of him, but they should also know that their support mattered.
Stuart and I are always immensely proud when someone achieves their black belt through Ultimate Judo. We're proud that they've trusted us to coach them and we're proud of whatever small part we've played in helping them get there.
But ultimately, the credit belongs to the person who achieves it.
We can teach, advise, challenge and encourage. We can try to point someone in the right direction and help them understand their judo.
We can't turn up for them.
We can't do the hard sessions for them.
We can't fight their contests.
And when things don't go their way, we can't make the decision to come back and try again for them.
Lloyd did all of that himself.
Perhaps that's why this one means so much to me personally. I can remember the shy nine-year-old boy who started judo with us, and now I'm looking at a young man wearing a black belt who I have enormous respect for.
I'm proud of the judoka he's become, but I'm much more proud of the man he's become.
Humble, disciplined, trustworthy and hardworking.
The belt is important, Lloyd, and you've absolutely earned it. But those qualities are the real achievement, and they'll stay with you wherever life takes you.
Congratulations mate. Enjoy being a black belt. You've worked bloody hard for it.
And thank you to his family, Stuart, his teammates, and every coach, training partner and opponent who has gripped cloth with Lloyd along the way. You've all been part of his journey.
Now we start working towards the 2nd Dan.
Better never stops. Always Forward.
Finally, a big thank you to Colin Shearer for the fantastic photographs capturing such a special moment.
18 September 2026
