Fencing Bear at Prayer

I have been meaning to write this post for over two weeks now.  It would have been better if I had been able to write it back on the day , but of course if I had been able to think clearly then, by definition I wouldn't have choked, so there you go.  Has it been long enough now for me to think rather than simply be overwhelmed by my emotions?  I can still see my opponent's face so clearly when we took off our masks and were signing the bout sheet after she had won.  She knew what she had done to me, and I knew what she knew she had done.  I still don't know how I am going to live that feeling down. So let's start by making a list.  Why?!!!    Why, why, why, why, why???--when I knew what kind of fencer she was, when I had in fact warmed up with her on that very day and so had some more recent information about how she was fencing, when I had just seen her beat someone whom I knew to be a stronger fencer than she (or, at least, than she had been...

Which is the true measure of my strength: that I cry when I choke (and did I choke on Sunday !), or that I get back on the strip even after humiliating myself in front of all of my friends and try again? Growing up, it was regularly borne upon me that crying was the worst of failings, the greatest of sins, the true marker of my character.  "Why do you get so upset?  It's only [fill in the blank]."  "Don't upset Rachel, she can't take it." My siblings knew that I could always be counted upon to burst into tears of rage and frustration if they pushed me hard enough, at which the adults would sit round shaking their heads and saying, "Why can't she learn to control her temper?" and trying desperately to distance themselves from the storm. It was humiliating.  Every time it happened, after the storm passed, I simply wanted to die, run away, get as far away from the things that had made me so panicky.  In my humiliation, all I could see was ...

Right, so, that was painful.  And, yes, it still hurts, although it seems to be passing. But am I actually going to quit? Yes and no. Yes, I need to quit, but, no, I probably won't. I'm not sure that this is entirely a good thing. Where am I going with this thought? I am still very, very tired from this past weekend.  I feel like a storm has blown through and there are still branches down in the street.  I am happy to have had the desire to blog again, at least briefly.  Will that last?  I don't know, but I realize that I actually hope so. I don't like quitting.  And yet, it is an odd form of weakness not to be able to quit doing something that hurts so very much.  Why don't I just run away? I meant this post to be a little more philosophical, not just ramblings, but not having blogged in so long, maybe this is what I need to do.  Just sit down at the page and....  And what? What is the difference between quitting and failure? ...

Something died in me this weekend.  It was the spring Veterans' NAC.  All the usual suspects, plus a few new faces.  I fenced brilliantly in both my pools: 4-1 on Friday in Veteran Women 40-49 foil, 5-1 yesterday in Veteran Women Combined foil.  On Friday I placed 4th out of the pools overall; on Sunday I tied for 6th.  And then I blew it.  TWICE.  I lost my first DE on Friday 8-10, thus losing my place in the medal round (top 8).  And I lost my second DE yesterday, again 8-10, again losing my place in the medal round--the first time ever in Vet Combined that I even had a place to lose after the pools.  And that basically broke my heart. One of my friends was watching the Veteran Women Foil Team finals with me on Saturday, and he said something about fencing being a fickle sport.  Fickle is exactly the word--and its god is Loki.  No matter what kind of offerings you bring to the god, he will cheat and trick and lie to you.  N...

 Heh.  Not bad for a couch potato , eh? Posted with Blogsy

Seeding is based on results from the past three national events: Summer Nationals 2012, December NAC 2012 and March NAC 2013. It's been a good year! But I've also spent the past seven months sitting on my couch, writing. And I've had the flu for the past month. Last night I woke up coughing again, and my energy is really low. It is going to be a tough day today. Posted with Blogsy

I'm sorry, this is so great, I just have to share it with you.  In the comments for my last post , PapaFreeak has just paid me an enormous compliment.  He reads my blog, get this, even though, he says, "I find about 75% of what you post to be odious."  ODIOUS!!!!  Isn't that the best thing you've ever heard?!  But wait, there's more: "This [he explains] is why I return: I don't understand why someone with your advantages--intelligence, health, a supportive family, good income from meaningful work in a prestigious job--is so astoundingly petty, envious, and self-pitying.  I think you fascinate me because you provide access to a mentality that is genuinely foreign to me."  Gosh, what can I say?  A FAN!!!!  This is what Elizabeth Gilbert must feel like all the time ! But PapaFreeak only finds "about 75%" of what I post to be "odious".  Which makes me wonder: what 25% could he possibly like? Could it be that, having the "...

You may recall that I don't have a fencing notebook anymore, having torn up the last one while at the tournament in December. I didn't buy a new one either. But I needed (or so I thought) to keep track of my pool bouts yesterday, so I pulled my emergency notebook out (you know, the tiny Moleskin that I keep in my purse, just in case I don't have a proper notebook handy), and tried to find somebody who had the bout order. Which means I also started writing down my scores from my pool bouts, so that, you know, I could make sure the directors recorded everything correctly. But I never did find someone with the bout order, so I simply had to sit there, not quite knowing when next I was going to be up. And you know what? It was fine. I have done enough pools now to have a feel for how the bouts go, even if I haven't memorized the exact order. So I didn't panic even when we started double-stripping. I just went to the strip when I was called, and I fenced. ...

I am having a hard time focussing. I'm in Reno for a tournament, hanging out with my girl friends. I should be a little bit anxious. It would be better if I were a little bit anxious. But I'm not. Not yet, and that makes me worried. Not, mind you, worried enough to start getting my head down and getting ready for the bouts. Just worried enough to try to write something before my roommate and I pack up and go to the venue.   But I don't have anything to say. I've been here now, pre-event, over and over and over again. I know what I can control and what I can't. Not that that means that, if I don't fence well this afternoon, I will be all hunky-dorey about it. I'm sure I won't be (we all remember Milwaukee, right?). But I'm not scared like I used to be about having to prove something about my fencing as such. (Is that true? Double-checking...I could be deceiving myself.)   Today's fencing is today's fencing. I slept rela...

This is not #$%&ing fair. I didn't drink last night. I didn't hang out late with my friends. I didn't stay up watching television. I was a good girl. I even went to sleep while my roommates were still talking. AND I STILL WOKE UP WITH A #$%&ING HEADACHE. It's not fair, it really isn't. I was feeling so good--SO GOOD--on Thursday as I was driving up from Chicago for the tournament this weekend. Even strangers were noticing. I was glowing, I was so happy about finally getting started working on my book again. I had pages written! I had an outline for the rest of the chapter I'm working on! For the first time in over three years, I could see how I was actually going to finish writing this book! I had hope! I had a plan! I had confidence in myself and my work! I was such an idiot. It never lasts. Eeyore, that's who I am. Give me one good day, one really good day when I feel confident, strong, capable, and--BAM!--I come down with th...

So, that went well--NOT! Sigh. It is supposed to be a good thing to keep a fencing notebook. You know. To keep a record of all of the pools and DEs that you've fenced. To make notes on the opponents you've had, what you've learned about how they fence. I know fencers who keep beautiful notebooks, with carefully, calmly written notes about every bout they've ever fenced, thoughts about things to work on, strategies to try the next time they come up against a particular fencer. I've tried to keep a fencing notebook, I really have. But when I come off the strip after learning NOTHING, it's the first thing to go. I have no idea how many fencing notebooks I've gone through. They never survive very long, maybe a year or two. I will dutifully keep track of all of the bouts that I fence in a pool, make notes about things that I noticed in this or that bout, write myself encouraging notes about what to work on...and then there will come a day like to...

Okay, so maybe that martini last night was a bit of a mistake. It woke me up bright and early at 5:30am with such a headache, my head is still fuzzy even after the Tylenols and a couple hours of trying to get back to sleep. Not exactly the best start to the day, especially when I have to compete this afternoon. But I sure enjoyed it at the time. History Bear and I are here in Milwaukee for the annual December NAC. Have I ever explained the North American Cups? They are national level tournaments held more or less the same weekends every year. Each year we have two at which we can fence Veteran events, one in December and one in March, plus Summer Nationals in late June/early July. So this is one of my three big tournaments every year. And my head is full of fuzz thanks to the martini last night. I am trying not to worry about it. Because, see, I am a mature fencing bear now, all of 9 1/2 years old. Gosh, that's old. I was only 5 when I started this blog just before Summe...

Photo courtesy of Badger Merritt. Posted with Blogsy

Best result ever. Posted with Blogsy

Okay, so that's a slightly blasphemous title, but I don't know quite how else to give this post the force that it needs.  Because, you see, I had an insight on Sunday after I wrote that post about not being enough of a bitch while I was on my way to the strip for my pools.  But you'll have to bear with me for a moment here, because it was one of those insights that, when it hits you, turns your whole world inside out after which, suddenly, you are looking at things with whole new eyes, typically weeping for joy.  (How's that for a teaser?)  And then the moment passes and you spend the next day or so too involved in life (fencing, talking with friends, driving home, recovering from the fencing and the talking and the driving) to be able to write about it, by which time (i.e. now) the full force of the insight has faded and all you are left with is the conviction that it is absolutely vital that you write about what you saw because therein lies the salvation of the wo...

Div II Women's Foil . 124 fencers. I seed 63rd before pools. In a pool of 7, I win 5 out of 6 bouts (!!!!). My best ever pool result in Div II. I seed 22T out of the pools. And lose my first DE to the 107th seed, thus finishing 65th. Damn it. I don't know whether to feel elated or pissed.

I shouldn't even been trying to write right now, my head hurts so much, but you know me, always a glutton for punishment. Why? Why do I do this to myself? Don't answer that, there isn't really an answer. All I know is...all I know is that I fenced really well yesterday, better than I've fenced almost ever...and I still lost. Worse. I didn't just lose, I was destroyed. By an opponent whom I was beating until the very last touch. But she got inside my head and I just couldn't shake her. And then, afterwards, when I was talking to my friend Ed and he was asking, "What do you think happened?" (luckily, he was there on the side of the strip encouraging me during the bout, so he saw), I was just too embarrassed to be able to say. But now I think that I can. She wore me down. She got inside my head and wore me down. And I let her. I let her. Why? I just posted this status on Facebook: "I don't think that I am nasty enough to be any go...

Short answer: No, not if you're doing it right. As, for example, here, where I am trying to explain an insight that came to me at the tournament this past weekend while I was thinking about whether I should just quit trying to fence épée as a second weapon and stick to foil.  I've been competing in épée off and on, I now realize, for going on something like three or so years .  And yet, I am nowhere nearly as strong in épée now as I was when I had been competing in foil for the same amount of time.  By the time I had been competing in foil as long as I have been competing in épée, I was a D.  I'm not even an E in épée at the moment, nor is it likely that I will be any time soon. So why is that?  Well, I don't really get to practice épée much now that our club moved and most of the fencers that I practice with only do foil.  But that isn't all of it.  I could say that it's because I haven't been working hard enough at it, but that isn't quite it e...

All of my friends got medals this weekend.  My roommate (the one closest to me in the picture) even got two.  And I was back on the ground taking photos for everyone. Yes, I feel a little bit sad.  Who wouldn't?  I've been up there twice (although not in this particular event, Vet Combined as opposed to Vet 40s), and, yes, I liked it.  The question is, why?  Why does it make so much difference whether one gets on the medals podium or not? I used to think that it was because being up there on the podium would prove something about my fencing, that I was good enough.  But, again, good enough for what?  To fence?  I'm already that.  Even the fencer who comes dead last in the event is good enough to fence.  Nobody has to earn the right to compete, at least not as such. Sure, getting up on the medals podium usually means that you got to fence more on that particular day, but, again, it isn't like all those of us standing round tak...

I do not want to fence this event today. Not. Not. Not. I am terrified. Who am I kidding, thinking I can fence epee? I'm a foilist, I don't practice epee. What on earth was I thinking signing up for this event? Okay, so I've fenced it before. Several times, in fact. Over the past two (or is it three?) years. And I always lose. Badly. Even worse than I did yesterday. Okay, no, yesterday was pretty bad, and even in epee, I have occasionally won the odd bout. But. This is ridiculous. What do I think is going to happen? That I am suddenly going to discover a hidden talent, find that, in truth, I am really an epeeist? That all the struggles that I've been having in fencing were simply owing to the fact that I was fencing the wrong weapon? Yeah, right. Yeah. Right. I do think this. I think about how hard I found it learning to start an attack in foil, so terrified was I of getting hit, but in epee, there is much less advantage in going first (at leas...