My Year in Uniformed Protective Services Level 3 at Burton and South Derbyshire College By Sensei Liam Musiak
- Liam Musiak
- Aug 30
- 3 min read
When people look at me now, they see karate, criminology, and everything I’ve built around martial arts. But before I threw myself fully into that path, I spent a year on the Uniformed Protective Services Level 3 course at Burton and South Derbyshire College.
I didn’t finish the qualification. Instead, I made the decision to leave and focus on karate and other projects. But that doesn’t mean my time there was wasted. In fact, I still believe to this day that it was one of the best things I could have done at the time.
The course gave me structure, discipline, and perspective. It was a taste of what life is like in demanding, uniformed roles — the police, the military, the fire service. It wasn’t easy, and that’s exactly why it was so valuable. I realised quickly that I didn’t want to follow those careers directly, but I also realised that the skills, lessons, and habits I built there would stay with me for life.
A lot of what I learnt during that year has translated directly into my work now:
Teamwork under pressure – You can’t always be the lone wolf. Sometimes the best results come from knowing how to work with others, even under stress.
Leadership and responsibility – Taking initiative, making decisions in real time, and understanding how others look to you for direction.
Fitness and resilience – Pushing past limits, knowing how to perform even when you’re tired, and developing the grit to keep going.
Situational awareness – Reading environments, spotting risks before they become problems, and staying one step ahead.
Looking back, the year was like a bridge. It gave me time to mature, to test myself, and to find out what direction I truly wanted to go. Without it, I don’t think I would have committed as hard to karate and criminology as I did afterwards. It showed me what I didn’t want, but more importantly, it gave me tools I still use every day.
Walking away wasn’t failure. It was a choice. The protective services course gave me exactly what I needed at that point in my life, and then I took those lessons and applied them where I felt I could make the biggest impact.
That’s why I still say it was one of the best things I ever did.
Pilot Down – The Exercise That Stayed With Me
Out of everything I experienced on that course, there was one exercise that really stuck with me: Pilot Down at Cannock Chase.
The exercise involved leading a team through woodland terrain, navigating to locate a downed pilot in a simulated battle-zone, and then transporting them out — along with heavy equipment. I was chosen as the team leader for my group, responsible for both navigation and decision-making under pressure.
I did well in some areas, and not so well in others. But that was the point — it was a test of leadership, teamwork, and resilience, not perfection. What stayed with me was the feeling of carrying weight, responsibility, and fatigue all at once, and realising that leadership isn’t about being comfortable — it’s about pushing forward despite discomfort.
That one exercise became the inspiration for something I went on to build into every black belt syllabus in my clubs.
March of the Dan – Inspired by Pilot Down
Pilot Down planted the seed for what I later developed as the March of the Dan – a 10-Mile Weighted Trial at Cannock Chase. While the two challenges are different in detail, the spirit is the same: leadership, endurance, resilience, and the ability to keep going under weight and stress.
March of the Dan is now the closing chapter of every Dan grading I have written. It isn’t about speed or presentation. It’s about grit, fatigue, silence, and the raw question: who are you when no one is watching?
Candidates walk 10 miles carrying a minimum 10kg weight through Cannock Chase. Along the way, they may face random intimidation, ambushes, or attacks — unannounced and under fatigue. They must react instinctively and appropriately, while maintaining the march. Completion is the only goal — no applause, no celebration, just silent acknowledgement.
For me, this represents what a black belt truly means. It is not the flash of kata or the shine of the belt, but the quiet strength to endure hardship alone.
Final Note
The Uniformed Protective Services course didn’t end with me joining the forces, but it gave me something just as valuable: lessons in leadership, awareness, and resilience that shaped who I am today. Pilot Down was a moment that stayed with me, and it evolved into the March of the Dan, a final trial that ensures every black belt I grade earns it with sweat, silence, and struggle.
Sometimes the best paths aren’t the ones you stay on forever, but the ones that give you something you carry with you for life.
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