Everyone has been talking about the Sumo’s in London this week – so we gave it a go

‘Wipe me!’ orders a sumo wrestler, as we’re treated to an unobstructed view of his post-s*** bare bum squatting over a hole in the floor.

Once it’s been attended to by sumo’s version of an intern, the wrestler’s attention turns to his poo.

‘It’s too big to flush now, so break it apart,’ he declares. The intern snaps to it, tackling the excrement with the chopsticks he uses to eat his rice.

I am watching Sanctuary, a Japanese TV show that’s been dubbed into English for Netflix, the night before my first sumo lesson with London Sumo Club founder Sonny Bell.

This week, Sumo wrestlers took over London ahead of a three-day competition in the Royal Albert Hall.

They were photographed pulling pints, and a few members of team Metro ventured out to meet the wrestlers and even train like them. That’s what I’m doing.

As English Sumo President and three-time British champion, Sonny Bell is a top dog in British sumo. That pretty much makes me the intern in this scenario.

What if Sonny makes me do unspeakable things with the cutlery I’ve brought along to eat my packed lunch?

Sonny assures me that nothing like this goes on inside the leisure centre loos. I’m relieved, but what about the other atrocities I’ve seen on Sanctuary? Keen to make sure I’m in safe hands, I ask: ‘You wouldn’t tread on anyone’s face?

‘No,’ Sonny tells me.

Or tie them up with a rope and steal their food? Or make anyone eat sand or hit them with a stick?

Again, he says no, but adds, ‘Well, you might hit them with a stick. It depends on what sort of session it is. If it’s an intense session, you might.’

I’m shocked, before Sonny bursts into laughter.

‘No, of course not! I’d never do that. The most we’d ever do is give constructive criticism,’ he clarifies. Sonny is incredibly nice, and now I feel slightly silly for imagining he assaults people with sticks.

Getting dressed in the belt

Feeling safe enough to step inside the dojo, Sonny helps me into my mawashi. This is the loincloth costume that sumo wrestlers wear, also known as a belt. Laid out on the floor, it resembles a very long scarf, but is made of stiff material, similar to calico.

I stand over it and hold one end to my chest, while Sonny takes the other end and wraps it around my waist multiple times until the right amount’s left to make a fancy knot at the back.

Before securing the knot, Sonny has to pull the fabric taut. This is like being given a wedgie by a crane, because I am literally lifted into the air by my loincloth.

Luckily, I have leggings on, so there is no chafing of my lady bits, but Sonny tells me the professional sumo wrestlers wear nothing underneath. I ask him what would happen if their testicles slip out, but he assures me this isn’t an issue.

After watching the TV show and reading about the eleven tonnes of soil sourced for The Grand Sumo Tournament at the Royal Albert Hall this week, I thought I’d get dirty today.

However, it turns out that the dojo here consists of a layout, like Twister, only you can’t buy one at Argos, because this is an official dojo layout. Its use has to be especially permitted, and Sonny tells me there are only three or four in the UK.

What is Sumo wrestling?

Sumo is a style of Japanese wrestling where weight, size and strength are of the greatest importance

The aim is to propel the opponent of a ring that is about 15 feet in diameter or to force him to touch the ground with any part of his body other than his feet

Sumo wrestlers wear only loincloths and grip each other by the belt

The sport’s origins dates to the myth of a contest of strength described in Japan’s oldest historical chronicles

Between the Kamakura period (1192-1333) to the Warring States period (1467-1568) sumo was practiced as a form of combat training for warriors

In the Edo period (1603-1867), sumo became a professional sport and official tournaments were held

Source: Britannica and Japan Up Close

This dojo layout is laid over mats. Then foam pieces, secured via velcro, are used to create a raised edge along the outline of the circle. If you end up outside this circle, or if any part of you touches the floor – aside from your feet – you lose.

We start the session with Shiko. This consists of a deep squat, followed by a leg raise to the side, then another deep squat, followed by a leg raise on the other side.

We do this 10 times on each leg, and my squats get shallower with every repetition. A total of 20 is quite enough, but Sonny tells me they’ll usually do it 30 times on each leg, adding: ‘That’s nothing really – the pros do it 500 to 1,000 times a day. Shiko is very good for us.

‘It’s an amazing exercise to build core stability, balance and strength. It’s fundamental for sumo, and when you transfer it to the ring, you notice how much of a difference it can make.’

Next, we practise moving across the dojo by sliding our feet instead of lifting them – while maintaining a squat position. This is called suriyashi, and Sonny explains that we do this because it’s easier to maintain our balance with both feet on the floor – making it harder for opponents to knock us over.

After this, we work on butsukari. From a deep squat, with my fists on the floor, I must spring up and use all my might to push Sonny across the dojo. With my hands just below his pecs, and my head against his chest, I aim to keep my forearms close together to make it harder for Sonny to reach my mawashi.

With someone more experienced, Sonny would create resistance to make them work hard to move him. Given that he is literally twice my weight, Sonny could certainly stop me if he wanted to. However, as I am new to this, he gallantly lets me ease him across the dojo as if I’m pushing a well-oiled Waitrose trolley.

How does this work in class?

‘If we’re doing a specific technique, I’d want people paired up in similar heights or weights to get an idea of how to do it correctly, but usually I don’t match them up because I think it’s good to have a variety of opponents,’ Sonny tells me.

‘You improve so much more when you’re not going against the same people over and over again. So in general it’s all versus all.’

London Sumo Club takes place twice a month on alternating Sundays, with around 6 to 15 people showing up for each session. Despite the fact that there are no professional female sumo wrestlers, Sonny says four women come to his club consistently.

Maybe I have potential here. Although I am a squat-dodger when I go to the gym, I do love yoga, and Sonny says this is fantastic for sumo. He points out that most professional sumo wrestlers can do the splits.

Unfortunately, my new hobby isn’t an automatic license to eat all the pies because, while bigger might be better for professional sumos, at the amateur level, wrestlers compete in weight categories set by the International Sumo Federation.

Sonny’s trained in Japan with The University of Tokyo, and he drops into other sumo clubs, initially travelling to sessions in Doncaster at the age of 18, because there were no sumo clubs in London. This was a motivating factor for Sonny to set up the London Sumo Club two years ago, but not all his training takes place in the dojo.

‘When I didn’t have anywhere to train, I’d go up against a tree. I would get down in the ready position, then I’d charge into the tree. I’d do it over and over again because it’s a good force to hit against,’ he said.

Hmmmm. I wonder at this point whether Sonny has had any injuries, and he tells me he’s suffered three slipped discs at the ripe age of 22.

In spring next year, Sonny is hoping to head to Japan for a three-week training course, but first there’s the British Championship taking place in Belfast in January.

But for now, Sonny’s just excited to be going to the Royal Albert Hall, to watch the Grand Sumo Tournament. The ringside seats can result in getting splattered by soil – or even one of the sumos.

Sonny tells me that this is considered lucky, but I’ll consider myself quite lucky enough if I can walk tomorrow after all this squatting…