Mr. Topp and the Big Bad Blog

I often reflect on how my fencing development might have been different. Usually the bulk of this attention has been devoted to my fencing in high school: I wonder what might have been if I had been thrust into a competitive environment as a cadet or junior, how much better I would have been when I reached University. In a sense, I like to imagine that I would have been considerably better had I had that opportunity.

Following the Leon Paul Cup the other week, I was again reflecting on my development as a fencer. But this time, it came out in a different light.

My competitive focus this season is focused on two tournaments — both of which are satellite world cups. They are, quite simply, the two best competitions I have access to given my skill level and geographic location. Better competition would require me to meet a standard or to spend money I do not have.

My focus, in other words, is on the highest standard available to me. Other events I might enter — British domestic tournaments, for the most part — are not part of the equation. They are just another training opportunity, at most. Those results don’t really matter to me, so long as they lead to better ones at the events I do consider to be important.

It occurs to me that it was not always this way. Most of my fencing development occurred during university. I did not train to be competitive beforehand — I just fenced for fun, at practice, and would compete once or twice a year. During university, my focus was not the best events I could attend. I did not attend the CSC events or nationals until the end of university. I did not attend a real open for several years.

Instead, I concentrated on the university-level events: The Ontario Challenge Circuit and Ontario University championships. The only time I would step outside of that comfort zone was for the provincial championships.

This served to limit me as a fencer — moreso than the fact that as one of two teenage fencers in Kingston, there was nothing to push me towards appropriate competitive activities. After my first year of university (in which adapting to the level there was more than enough challenge), I was perfectly capable of not embarrassing myself at a national level had I pushed myself to fence there.

After graduation, I started to attend tournaments at that level but stopped training — time at practice was spent coaching, not fencing. Little bouting, fewer lessons, and even less footwork. One’s fencing cannot improve without practice, and my only practice — competition — happened far too infrequently.

So this marks the first time that my competitive focus is aimed high while I practice at the same time. Though I am certainly past the peak of my potential, I am quite curious as to how this focus on a higher level of competition will impact my fencing — hopefully the results will be positive. In the past, when training, I have been able to fence to the level I would expect of myself.

Hopefully this will hold true when expecting more.

fencing, observations and opinions development, fencing, kingston, mcmaster, ontario challenge circuit, reflection, training, university

As previously mentioned here on the Big Bad Blog, I have recently returned to the fencing fold. While I may be getting as much practice in as possible, the same cannot be said for tournaments.

To me, the fencing season consists of very few tournaments. These are the satellite World Cup events, held in London, Amsterdam and Copenhagen, and the British National team competition. I try to do a warm up tournament before each of these, but I do not really care about my results in domestic tournaments in the UK — they simply do not matter.

The satellite World Cups are wonderful, however. While the winners of the competitions are often on par, ability-wise, with the winners of UK tournaments, the skill level does not bottom out in the same way. This takes away the easy bouts — which I do not really enjoy — making for thoroughly enjoyable competitions, even if my results do not measure up.

This past weekend was the Leon Paul satellite men’s foil event. Of the satellites, this is easily the most difficult of the lot. The reason is that there is a Junior World Cup event held the day before, and many of the athletes stay around for a second day (and a second tournament).

As a result, when I came to my pool, it was full of under-20s, all of whom were much better fencers then myself. I entered with a simple mantra: They’re all better then me. Good fencers — otherwise they would not be here for the junior event the day before — faster, and in better shape. My only advantage is that I have been fencing much, much longer. Remember this, be the wily old man, and I would see what I could do.

The plan worked for a little while — it got me through the first two bouts. Then I was derailed by a good fencer, followed by technical difficulties, followed by myself — I made mental mistakes in my last two pool bouts, and the fencers were simply too good to make such mistakes against.

However, it was enough to get me through into the elimination rounds as a low seed. Luck would have me matched against a clubmate in the first round — one who was having a better day than I was — and my day ended shortly thereafter.

From there I became a cheerleader, spectator and photographer for the remainder of the day.

While it was not technically my first competition since returning, it is the first that is actually part of my short-list. The next will have to be missed, due to work obligations, but I am looking forward to fencing in Copenhagen come March.

It’s nice to be back in the saddle, and to have a ranking again. Even if it is 484th.

A few more photos available over on Flickr.

fencing, photoblog fencing, foil, return, sattelites, tournaments, world cups

It is 7pm, on a Thursday night. This means that I should be fencing right now. That I am currently typing on a computer should give away the fact that I am not currently fencing. Yesterday’s delaying symptoms have continued into today.

Last night I could not get through a 15 point bout without becoming what Bob referred to as “a biohazard area”. Today I am not trying. To allay my guilt, the usual roleplaying entry is being passed over in favour of a discussion of sport. Yes, the weekly bit of roleplaying has been passed over too often lately. There are a couple of articles floating around my head, however. A return is guaranteed.

Today I stumbled upon this article on Jure Robic from a few years ago. Robic is an ultra-endurance cyclist, and quite probably the greatest athlete you have never heard of. The competitions he wins require riding for a week straight with little or no rest. Quite impressive.

Approximately two thirds of the way through that article, it goes on a tangent regarding fatigue — muscle fatigue in particular. Muscle fatigue, it tells us, is not muscular. It is mental. When it feels as though you have no strength left in your legs, arms, or whatnot, that is your mind lying to you. You have more to give — a lot more to give — if only you can convince yourself this is true.

The corollary to this is that it takes mental conditioning, rather than physical conditioning, to improve your physical endurance.

My own experience fencing seems to bear this out. Performing at a high level at the end of a tournament, or at the end of a difficult bout is all about willpower. My body never gives out on me in these situations, unless my mind refuses to fight it into place.

Of course, one might then start to hallucinate that one is being chased by Mujaheen on horseback, as Mr. Robic does. I suppose that is just part of the process.

On more of a fencing note, there is now lots of excellent fencing video available online. I recommend it.

fencing, observations and opinions cycling, endurance, fatigue, fencing, Jure Robic, muscles, roleplaying, sport

This evening I came home to find a note in the mail — a package has arrived, and is waiting at the post office. Unless somebody has decided to surprise me with a package, it will be one of the two things I need for the upcoming fencing season, and ordered this past weekend.

For the past year, for the first time in almost twenty years, I took a break from fencing. Did not touch it at all.

I told myself that I meant to return to practice, but there was always an excuse: First there was the move. Then the new job. Then it was almost Christmas. Then …

Well, there was always another reason. Life is busy, and I like it that way. There is always a vacation and a business trip around the corner. I also like it that way. But the conclusion — that it’s a silly time to come back to fencing — was wrong. There was more to it. I stopped checking tournament schedules and results online, reading forums. I tuned out.

I think I needed it.

Over the summer the desire to fence has returned. I find myself missing it. I have a need to fence again — and it feels good to be refreshed. It feels exciting to return.

For some reason, I expect to feel out of my depth. I expect fencing to have somehow changed. There is no reason for this. I go to fencing.net, and the discussions are the same (sometimes literally), as are the people. One year is not a long time.

There is an unfortunate side effect: the amount of new kit I need is staggering. Rule changes since I last fenced mandate a new mask, but I was prepared for that — I actually delayed replacing the old one on the basis of this rule change. And I have zero functioning foils. That’s right, zero. Also, no wire with which to rewire any foils. This might be the nature of the package lying in wait at the Wapping Post Office. In which case my excitement will likely be replaced by frustration, as I try to get reacquainted with a skill which, it could be argued, I never really had to begin with.

I can’t wait.

fencing, observations and opinions exercise, fencing, foil, mail, package, post, sport