Fencing Bear at Prayer

Yes, I'm still disappointed with myself . Last year, the week after I did so poorly at Nationals, I decided to get my navel pierced, in part because I'd just spent ten days in Miami Beach and had seen how many women (and men!) have had their tummies done and so was thinking, "Why not? My tummy is surely as good as theirs"; in part because I wanted something that I could change about who I was. And, of course, because I think it looks cool. This year, now that the piercing is fully healed,[1] I'm shopping for navel jewelry, but everything I like comes in diamonds and I'm not sure I can persuade my husband that we can afford (sigh) more bling right at this moment. I'm not really interested in getting a tattoo and I don't have any more body parts I'm eager to pierce [2], so I'm thrust back upon my blog and trying to think my way out of the paper bag that is my ego-self. But, oh, how I wish there was something else I wanted to have pierced...

6:07 CST, 4:07 PST Sleepless in San Jose, waiting for it to be morning so that I can fence my first event in the Summer Nationals. Define competition. A test. An ordeal. A proof. Of what? My coach promises me that this year will be different from last, when I fenced so badly I did not even make the cut for the D-Es in either of my events. This was less surprising in Div IA, against many of the strongest fencers in the country, most at least a decade, even two younger than I and, therefore, simply stronger and faster; but it was devastating in Veteran 40 because every other time I had fenced the same women that year, I had done significantly better. Will it be different this year? Does it matter? I did not go to the qualifiers for Div IA this year, so I did not even give myself the chance to be able to fence in that event, but I did go to the qualifiers for Div II/III and did not make the cut for the national event. Does this mean that my coach has lied to me or, more charita...