So I guess this is a milestone, I've aged out of VET 40-49, this SN's being my last in this age division. What to think? While maybe the passage of time and the way fencing has marked the passage of my 40's is what leaves the deepest feelings, ones of personal discovery through my re-entry to the sport that I left behind the day after I graduated college in 1982, and didn't return to until just about my 40th birthday in the summer of 1999, or thereabouts. During that interveening time, marriage, children and career. Success on the job by the time I reached my 40th birthday suggested I could go back to the sport that I loved but which presented more that a bit of emotional and pysic threat, a challenge that was too close to the cummulative issues of my teen years, really school years. But by the time I hit my 40th, clearly I had found solid success in my professional life, something that allowed me a secured grounding to come back and face down the reasons why my potential was beyind grasp when I was so much younger. The decade that has just passed, and that this Summer National's bookends has been filled with its own personal, career and family challenges, but fencing has been an avenue of productive personal exploration, healthful activity, and a chance to prove something to myself. While my result this SN's is not stellar (more about that shortly), it does allow me to say the journey has been worth where I"ve gotten to in terms of growth and understanding. I've become an advocate now for all the upcoming generations to struggle for self-confidence and belief by taking the sport on. I've brought my daughters into fencing; at least one has taken up the sport. Perhaps it will become a passon for her, a path for self-discovery or just a healthy way to build confidence, have fun and exercise. That alone would be a goal achieved.

This is what I know: my capacity to tease out some respectable level of athletic talent is present, tangilble, and moreover can be brought to infuse a positive competitive effort that's reflected in skills and more accomplishement that I could have even guessed. And better still, there's still plenty of road ahead. It's just a melancholic that as my relative youth inexporable fades into middle age, with forced recognition of the changes my body has and will continue to go through means ambition must be tempered by other things, things like mature perspective about what it means to grow old.

Let me say that Julia qualified 5th in her junior qualifier in the Metro NY Division, putting on a heroic effort, in fact showing significant grit and determination. Sadly, only 25% can qualify for Summer Nationals according to the rules, and while we thought the top 3 had Junior Points, and therefore would allow Juli through, in fact, turns out they didn't. Julia could have easily fenced competitively this year in Atlanta. What can be said is her game has grown, she is not classicaly burned-out from excessive pressure and anxiety, and lives to continue her own path of self-realization.

For me, the year (and increasingly the years...) shifted in a noticably significant way my career priorities, parthly because of organizational changes but partly because of realities that I have goals yet to reach in work, and by luck, some wonderful new colleagues to spur me on. In fact, after challenging my employer, my reummneration for the year is guaranteed at a very significant level to my current pay, and there's active talk of my promotion to Managing Director. So where does that leave fencing?

This year left me short each week, never quite able to fulfill the bouting load I needed, nor the drilling and lesson time necessary to not just maintain but push forward on all fronts in my game and the sport. That's a reality. It was reflected in my SN's results.

We seeded 18th of 58 coming into the competition, went 4-2 (+8) in my pools, having lost one very good bout by a touche, and one deplorable effort by one touche, and came out seeded into the DE's a the same spot, 18th. As luck would (not) have it, I drew the guy who seeded 17th, which by itself was not a problem, just that he turned out a significant challenge on the strip. The bout went 1-0, 1-1, 2-1, 2-2 (end of 1st period), then 3-3 on a double. Time expired, and I got the flip for priortiy in overtime. My comfort with the psychological pressure on the strip flip-flopped - much of the 1 minute I was loose enough to keep my eyes on his face, watching his overall demeanor, trying to catch signals what his next action would be, what his level of determination would be. It must have been uncomfortable for me. In a moment of recklessness that must have been my way of throwing off unwanted pressure, I prepared, and took an action forward to settle the bout. Had I made the action with the same swift, full-throtled delivery as my second touch, I would have hit, and moved up. In the event, I didn't hv confidence or trust in my action. He was good enough to make me pay for the hesitation. I was a bitter end for my Summer Nationals, but in some respects, validated my last 10 years of fencing.

The tournament is still a fun event, of course. Its an annual getting together of the 'old man's fight club'. I see the same guys over and over, allowing some situational friendships to grow. It also allows me to see some decent, and sometimes very good fencing. This year was just such a case. My clubmate and I caught up in one of those chance floor encounters between pools and DE's. So, how'd ya do? Seems one guy in his pool (where he went 5-1) "schooled" him: hit him with blinding technique, and managed space and time with a level of skill unseen in the standard ranks of even the upper end of the senior and Vet circuit (at least in N. America).

Overall, this fencer is the embodiment of pure, classical epee technique: his stance was bolt upright (strong and steady core) and balanced on both feet. No leaning or cheating forward on front foot. He did not hop - at all - in the two bouts I witnessed. His footwork was soft, sycanopated and stealthy. And he had multiple tempos: accelerating into a full unhesitating attack - lunge or fleche finish - and able to float back in retreat. His opponents could neither reach him nor evade him when he went on the attack. His weapon arm was relaxed at the shoulder but strong at the hand..

But mostly the impression was one someone who was calm, purposeful and who demonstrated a mindfulness in the moment while fencing. His point was unemotional but a constant threat. He didn't seem to work excesively hard but every strokike was masterful. The Russians in the audience matching would yell out "bravo" with each brilliant action.

He is a pro, like watching a concert pianist in control and employing a variety of skills to breath music into the notes. Wow.