5 October 2026
When we see a black belt on the mat, we immediately think they must be good, and of course that's probably true, but what we don't always think about is what is the story behind that black belt? How did they get there, who helped them along the way, what did they have to overcome and how many times did they nearly give up?
Everyone's journey to 1st Dan is different. There is no one-size-fits-all route and, for me, that's part of what makes achieving a black belt so special. So, here is Colin's story and first of all I want to introduce you to Colin Shearer, Shodan.
I can't take you back to the beginning of Colin's judo journey because I wasn't there, in fact his journey started long before I ever met him or indeed started my own judo journey. Colin got his 1st Kyu brown belt in 1978, aged just 15. Judo was a huge part of his life and he trained four times a week between local clubs, Buckie and Dufftown, competed with some medal success and even picked up some points towards his Dan grade. He was already a promising judoka, but then life happened. School became university, university became work and gradually judo became something Colin remembered fondly rather than something he still did. There was, however, always that little bit of unfinished business – he never got his black belt.
Fast forward more than 40 years and, through a fairly random chain of events, our paths crossed. A friend of Colin's had been fundraising for a new defibrillator for the community and shared that the latest one was being hosted by a judo club in Aberdeen. That club just happened to be Ultimate Judo. Her son also trained with us, so a recommendation was made and Colin started having a look at what we were doing. That led to a bit more searching about modern judo and somewhere along the way he discovered that there was now a technical pathway to 1st Dan. Suddenly that bit of unfinished business from 1978 didn't seem quite so impossible and I think at some point the slightly mad thought entered his head... why not?
So, aged 62, Colin contacted me. I remember speaking to him about his judo history, where he'd been and what he wanted to achieve, but there was certainly no promise of a black belt. We didn't know what his judo looked like after more than 40 years away and, probably more importantly, neither did Colin. There was really only one way to find out – get back on the mat.
Colin dug out his old judogi, gave it what he describes as a wash with a LOT of fabric softener, and walked back into a dojo for the first time in more than four decades. That judogi was literally ripped off him during a kata course not long afterwards, but that's a different story! Anyone who has taken even a few weeks off judo knows how much that first session back can hurt the next day, and probably the day after that, so imagine what more than 40 years feels like.
What struck me quite quickly wasn't what Colin had forgotten, it was how much was still there. Clearly he had come from a technical club because the knowledge and understanding were there, even if his body perhaps wasn't quite as keen to cooperate as his head was at first. Colin admits himself that this was frustrating at first, but I also realised very quickly what sort of person I was dealing with. There was absolutely no ego, or excuses, but there was plenty of commitment, stubornness and resilience.
Here was someone who had achieved his brown belt before I was even involved in judo, yet he was completely open to being coached. If I changed something he listened, if I gave him a pointer he went away and worked on it and, if something wasn't quite right, he wanted to know why. He wasn't looking for me to tell him he was good enough, he wanted me to tell him how he could get better and, as a coach, that's a pretty special person to work with.
We also had plenty of laughs in those early weeks because judo had changed quite a bit while Colin had been away. Every so often an old technique or grip would appear and I'd get, "Can we still do this?" only to have to reply, "No Colin, that was banned about 23 years ago!" Then something else would come out of the memory bank and we'd go through the same conversation again. To his credit, Colin never had the attitude of "well, that's how we used to do it". He laughed, listened and adapted, and I think those early sessions were as much about discovering the modern sport as they were about rediscovering the judo he already knew.
Colin didn't make the whole thing particularly easy for himself either. Getting to our dojo means an hour-and-a-half drive each way, yet week after week he makes that journey, sometimes twice in the same week. Distance could have been an excuse, age could have been an excuse and the aches and pains certainly could have been an excuse, but he never used any of them. He just kept turning up and I'm sure there have been plenty of nights when getting out of the car when he arrived home was considerably harder than getting into it when he left the dojo.
He didn't come back looking for special treatment because he was in his 60s either. Colin doesn't shy away from being uke, he takes the falls, helps other people with their judo and gets stuck into randori. That's important to me because somewhere along the way this stopped simply being about a man coming back to finish his black belt. Colin had properly become a judoka again.
As coach, I felt the new technical pathway was the right route for him to pursue his 1st Dan and Colin agreed, but technical certainly doesn't mean easy. If anything, it meant we had to be particularly demanding about the quality of what he produced. We started refining things and, while some of the judo Colin had learned decades earlier had changed, other parts simply needed polishing. Sometimes I was asking him to change something that had probably been ingrained in him since he was 15, and that requires a level of trust between a player and coach.
Colin gave me and Stuart that trust, but he also challenged himself constantly. He would ask questions, ask for pointers and film himself so he could watch his own judo back. We'd discuss small details and I'd often find that by the next session he'd already been away thinking about them and working out what he could change. He became his own biggest critic and the question was rarely, "Is that enough to pass?" It was much more likely to be, "How do I make that better?" That's an attitude I really enjoyed working with.
Then there was kata. Colin was working towards the difficult Level 2 standard in Nage-no-Kata and, alongside Lloyd Cameron, committed to additional weekly practice. The two of them worked tirelessly together, filming themselves, watching it back, making corrections and then doing it all again. Occasionally I'd interfere and give them something else to think about before they went away and started the process again. Week after week I watched the standard of both Colin and Lloyd's judo rise considerably and it stopped being simply about preparing for an examination. They were genuinely searching for technical excellence, and that's a coach's dream.
When examination day eventually arrived, you always wonder how someone will perform when it actually matters. You know what you've seen in training and you know the work they've put in, but now somebody completely independent is going to judge it. Afterwards, the examiner commented that Colin's was one of the most prepared Dan gradings he had had the pleasure of examining in a long time.
I loved hearing that, not because it told me anything I didn't already know about the work Colin had put in, but because someone completely independent had seen it too. That standard didn't happen by accident, it was earned, and I think that's why Colin's promotion means so much to me personally as his coach.
I didn't teach Colin judo from the beginning, far from it. I came into his journey somewhere near the end of a chapter that had started in the 1970s. My job wasn't to turn Colin into a judoka, it was to help the judoka who had always been there find his way back. Along the way I got to challenge him, annoy him with small technical corrections, push his standards and hopefully help him realise that something he'd regretted not achieving for more than 40 years was still possible.
But ultimately, Colin had to do it. He had to make that three-hour round trip, walk through the dojo door, take the falls, accept the criticism and put the extra hours into the kata. Most importantly, every week he had to make the decision to come back and do it all again.
Colin has said himself that Ultimate Judo reminded him what makes a good judo club special. He's spoken about the belief Stuart and I had in him and the encouragement he received from everyone around him on the mat, but that works both ways. Colin has added something to our dojo too and having someone in the club with his attitude, commitment, willingness to learn and willingness to help others is incredibly valuable.
Personally, I'm just really pleased that a fairly random chain of events brought our paths together and gave me the opportunity to play a small part in finishing something that started nearly half a century ago.
Which takes me back to where we started – what is the story behind that black belt?
For Colin, it's the story of a 15-year-old brown belt in 1978 who never quite finished what he started. It's life getting in the way, more than 40 years away from the sport and then a defibrillator fundraiser, a recommendation from a friend and one slightly mad thought – why not?
It's hundreds of miles travelled to train, aching muscles, being thrown and getting back up, staying behind after class, extra kata sessions, filming techniques, asking questions, accepting criticism and always wanting to be a little bit better than he was the week before.
And finally, it's a 62-year-old judoka standing on the mat wearing the black belt he probably once thought he'd never have.
That's the story behind Colin Shearer's black belt.
Everyone's journey to 1st Dan is different and Colin's just took a little longer than most, but you can't rush the journey.
Now he's already talking about getting to work towards 2nd Dan...
Why not?
Congratulations, Colin Shearer, Shodan. It's been a privilege to be a small part of your journey and you earned every bit of it.
18 September 2026
