Fencing on the Roof Redux

It’s Friday so we must have fenced on the roof again this morning. And we did. Kim joined us so that we were four. We began at 7:30 which meant that the sun was only a glow behind the mountains and there was a steady canyon wind.

I’m continuing to work on my 3 parry (close in, last minute parry to the outside). I died every time I tried it, especially against Kim who was unstoppable today. Worse, I saw her doing very successful 2 and 3 parries and ripostes almost nonchalantly. However, I now have a sense of what I was doing wrong: I wasn’t stepping in close enough, and I was chicken-winging so that my arm was exposed which was where she and Robert were getting most of their hits. As Kenny, our coach, pointed out at class on Tuesday, I need to practice in front of the mirror to correct my form.

Lynn had some nice bouts even though she’s fighting off a cold at the moment. She did particularly well against Robert in the first bout (7-4). Robert’s form also looked much better today than it did at open fencing on Monday.

Eventually, the sun rose, the wind fell and you could see that some of the trees on the hillside had that paleness that presages a change of color. Fall is coming.

Over on the gray epee , Jim Kent has a very enjoyable post on his most recent tournament experience and his predilection for playing Sherlock Holmes as he watches other fencers. He mentions that a majority of his touches were from straight attacks. I had an experience something like that during open fencing a week ago. Nevertheless, it’s surprising how complicated you can make a straight attack using timing, distance and speed.

After fencing we had Lynn’s exceptional breakfast of perfectly fried eggs, toast from my homemade rye bread, chunked cantaloupe and blue berries and a glass of carrot juice mixed with orange juice. Not such a bad start to a Labor Day Weekend.

A Fencing Terror

I’m enjoying a cheerful fencing morning. First, FencingBear left me a book recommendation motivated by my post on fencing and training. Although my fencing library has been growing exponentially this year, I’m looking forward to her recommendation particularly as it is something I would never have found by myself.

And then I just saw GreyEpee's droll post from July 17 in which he recites an incident in which someone asked him “Did you fence?” because of his fencing t-shirt, presuming, he no longer does so. I had an experience at a tournament this year that was an interesting counterpoint. I was chatting with a fencing parent who looked longingly at the piste and said, “I’d really like to fence but I’m 47.” As there was quite a gaggle of veteran fencers older than that there, two of whom are coaches with C ratings, I didn’t know what to say except that he should try it.

As for age and physical endeavor, when my wife and I returned from Boston several years ago, I had the opportunity to ski again with an 83 year-old maternal uncle who was also a ski instructor. He put me to shame that first day touring a few of Alta’s more physically demanding routes. And he continued to ski and teach skiing up until the last six months of his life. The relationship between age and physical capacity is much more complex than most people, including many physicians, realize. My experience with my uncle was a not-so-gentle reminder of what diligence, persistence (coupled with enthusiasm and love for an endeavor) can achieve.

On the other side, I’ve had the good fortune to watch two organizations being born during the last few months. One is a high tech start-up on whose board I’ve served for the last few years and the other is the University of Utah Fencing Club. The former has just become profitable without venture capital, no mean accomplishment, particularly in this economy, while the latter is just beginning. My experience of both reminds me just how much diligence and persistence is required to give birth to an organization and that all too often a real achievement can only be appreciated in retrospect. The U of U club looks to me like they just might start something important and lasting. I’m looking forward to fencing with them again this weekend.

The Gray Epee’s post also reminded me of what I fear most in fencing. At another tournament, my coach, in describing another fencer who appeared to be fit and in his thirties, said, “He’s been fencing for about twenty years and he still fences the same way.” That’s my fencing terror.