quaker fencer

kathz isn't quite my name. I may be a Quaker. If I'm a fencer I'm a bad one and I don't do sabre. If I'm a Quaker I'm a bad one - but you've worked that out already. Read on. Comment if you like. Don't expect a reply.

Location: United Kingdom

Saturday, October 13, 2007

slow - but it is progress

I've been busy at work and home this week - too many twelve-hour days to write this blog. I thought I'd be too tired to fence and had to force myself to go. I even bribed myself with a cab journey there. Sometimes the half-hour walk seems more than I can do. I had considerable doubts about fencing when I arrived.

I was slightly late. The warm-up had reached the point where everyone was required to stand on one leg while raising the other knee. I didn't quite fall over but I wobbled. I wobbled more as I gripped my ankle and tried to make my heel touch the back of my thigh. Then it was time to cross ankles and wrists and touch my toes. It was difficult and painful, but slightly easier than last week. I made it - just about - with my fingertips. But I felt better as we practised lunging in pairs. And by the end of the warm-up I was more awake and hadn't fallen over, which had to be a good sign.

I did some foil first, with a returning fencer who's out of practice. I was a bit worried about hitting her hard as she's slight and slender - a good build for a foilist. After a while I began to worry about my focus on her right wrist. It was ever so open to attack but not, I had to remind myself, a target. I tried to recall parry ripostes and enjoyed the knock-about. Then she went to find some coaching and I headed off in search of an epeeist.

There were only two epeeists there. The turn-out was much lower than usual. Perhaps autumn viruses are to blame. But I practised against both epeeists, trying to keep my guard up (it still slips and lays my arm open). I was moving better achieving more, better hits. Every so often I surprised myself.

By the end of the evening I was even more tired and couldn't face waiting for a cab. I knew the walk home in the dark was beyond me. I broke my usual rule of independence and asked one of the coaches for a lift. He was too kind to refuse although his car was having problems. I'm still ever so grateful.

I'm still tired - and planning to fence again next week.

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