As noted in my recent blog entry, my epee work has been getting a little wild and sloppy. In other words, I have become the kind of fencer that I like to fence. Last night at practice I worked on getting back to the epee concept of "economy of movement". I was working on keeping my parries, binds, and disengages as tight, quick, and efficent as possible.
In general, I felt like I was fencing better, getting more touches, and controlling the action better than in recent weeks.
I'm debating whether or not to spring $50 plus hotel to attend since I'm not required to do so for another year. However, it's not just about renewing paperwork; I want to learn how to do this properly and thus attending might help me improve.
Plus, if nobody tells my physical therapist, I could sign up to fence WS.
I've put together what I believe to be the correct answers for all the rules and I'm reviewing them. Study time!
God I love this section. It's typically more fun than reading actual posts by individuals. I mean sure, sometimes you get the typical training journals which are interesting and worth reading, but sometimes a little dry (I'm sure my journal is pretty dry, kudos to anyone who gets enjoyment or entertainment from it). But my favorite, favorite, favorite entries are the ones where the journal is aimed at someone or a group of people and used as a means to put them down without the prospect of verbal
The real kind. The kind that wake you up in the middle of the night and lead you to get out of bed and sit in front of the computer, wondering.
It's 0140 and I still cannot get back to sleep. I need to learn to let it go.
Over and over and over again I am reliving one bad call that ended a DE.
I see it in slow motion. I'm certain I should not have called it as I did and the reason I keep dreaming this -- I think -- is because I'm uncertain how I should have
I wanted to be at fencing tonight, but as I was winding up my department meeting at 4:30 I realized I couldn't find my keys. I checked my e-mail, saw the message from the department secretary saying she had found them, got the facilities manager to open her office, and they weren't there. We called the department secretary, who was on her way home with my keys in her purse, and she turned around, but at that point I had to stay at school anyway to make some phone calls I had scheduled with applicants