The Best Half A Fight I've Ever Fought

Last night I fought the best half a fight that I've probably ever fought. This sounds like a strange statement so let me explain. I was fencing young Stuart the left hander, with whom I have had a long standing but friendly rivalry. I had not fenced for a couple of weeks, had a minor twinge in my right hamstring from not really warming up properly and Stu had just been fencing. In all ways the odds did not look particularly good and although I always fence to win I was semi-suspecting that I might not do so. We agreed to fence to ten hits and let battle commence.
We kicked off the fight and I scored the first hit, a pretty good one which settled me down a bit. It was a tactical fight with both of us looking for the right openings. Hits were exchanged but I found myself building a lead and fencing really well. It almost seemed that every hit I attempted was working and I had the strong feeling that I had the measure of my opponent. It is wrong to say that I became aware of this, in fact if anything I became less aware but more focussed if that makes sense. I was acutely aware of my opponent but not any specifics of his movement. Yagyu Munenori makes an analogy of this condition by saying when looking at a tree do not look at the leaves. As soon as you see one leaf you can no longer see the entire tree. In this case I was seeing the entire tree. I was also acutely aware that as soon as I got stuck on being in this state I would lose it, so I was determinedly trying not to be aware of being unaware. (It gets quite confusing here doesn't it?!) Anyway, the next hit was a corker, right on target, economic and effective. I was getting quite into it by now and when I hit Stuart with a supinated attack to his flank I couldn't contain my spontaneous shout of pleasure. Well, I had just been teaching it to the class as an effective attack against left handers so I was quite pleased!
At the point I was 5 -2 up and just knew that I was going to win the fight. Unfortunately at that point we had to break for an equipment malfunction and in the ensuing gap I completely lost the thread. All of a sudden the hits that were fixing five minutes before were not registering and Stuart clawed back the deficit and then overtook me. I was beginning to think I would never score a hit again! Had I reached fencing Nirvana? Should I just retire immediately and take to the mountains? Eventually I did score another hit but lost the fight 10 - 6 but what a first half it was. Now all I need to do is fence like that regularly. Give me another 20 years and I might just get there!

The hit that wasn't

I have noticed that a lot of people fence to the hit that wasn't. In other words they think they have scored, stop, find they haven't and then get hit. It's a common enough phenomena and I've been guilty of it many times in the past. The trick is not to let your expectations overwhelm reality. In fact, now that I think about it, it's a pretty good lesson for everything in life. Discern with a clear eye.

Long Time No Blog

It's been a while since I last posted anything on the blog so apologies to my millions of readers out there. Been a bit busy. But never fear I have returnd so here's a brief piece I call...
Going the Distance
It is important to develop your skills to the maximum in whatever you do in life. Take observation for instance. Some people go through life's journey without ever taking notice of their surroundings, other people or the situations they find themselves in. Other folk occasionally pay attention to things that interest them. Some people develop their observational powers to the extent that they are aware of everything around them, but these people are rare. When I was younger and in my 'pub going' phase my mates were always surprised at my ability to spot when a fight was going to break out and who was likely to start it. (We used to go to some rough pubs).There was no real skill to it, I just paid attention to the behaviour of my fellow pub goers. On one occasion I bemused a girl friend by wanting to leave a perfectly quiet pub with only a few people in it saying that I didn't like the atmosphere. She was amazed to hear later that only ten minutes after we left a fight broke out. The thing that did it for me that night were the two gentlemen who were sat together drinking a bottle of wine - each. They already looked a bit worse for wear and belligerent and I suspected something was going to happen. And it did! The point was I spotted their behaviour early and did something about it.

So what's this got to do with fencing? Well, ask yourself this. When you are at the club and not actually fencing do you check out the other fencers who are? Do you see their strengths, favourite moves, weaknesses? If so good; you have gone some of the way to developing good observation skills. If you then observe yourself for the same strengths and weaknesses then you have taken a far greater step towards going the distance....

Anna Bentley - UK No. 1

Just a quick note of congratulations to my friend Anna Bentley on becoming UK no. 1 at the National Championships this weekend. Thoroughly deserved and long overdue! Anna is a great example of what talent, determination and drive can do....

The Sound of Your Spirit

This post kind of ties in with the last one regarding 'The Zone'. I was reading a bit about Japanese Calligraphy the other day and was struck by a piece on the Japanese term "i" which roughly translates as "intent". As is usual in Japanese writing the character is made up of a compund of two other characters, "sound" (which is in turn composed of "rise up" and "mouth") and "spirit". So the character "intent" literally translates as "the sound of the spirit". I think this is quite interesting; your intent to do something is quite literally the sound of your spirit taking shape. Without spirit there is no real intent. In this case I interpret spirit as your character, energy and belief rather than a religious drive. So David, you cry, what the heck has this Eastern rambling got to do with fencing? Well Grasshopper, I have noticed that in a fencing club fencers who are really into their fights are the ones who are most likely to utter a shout or cry as they attack or hit. A fencer who is not absorbed in the moment, perhaps restricted by other thoughts and concerns about work, dinner, technique etc will not make this spontaneous signal of intent. I think it is also linked to the fact that some Tennis players (I write this as Wimbledon takes place) tend to grunt or shriek as they hit the ball. It has been suggested by some commentators that this is contrived to put off their opponent as it never happens during practice. I would counter that it is only during real contest that the intent manifests itself. So next time you find yourself in The Zone do not be embarassed by your voice. It is the sound your spirit makes when it is truly engaged.

The Zone

There is a commonly use expression amongst sports people regarding "being in The Zone". This is usually interpreted as operating in a place of maximum effectiveness where results seem to come easily with minimal effort. I am not a sports physiologist or psychologist but I think I have found myself in this place on a number of occasions so here is my take on the journey there.
Imagine a blue line running from left to right on a graph. This vertical axis represents efficiency and the horizontal axis represents time. Time can be measured in minutes, hours or whatever makes most sense to the sport in question. In this case lets imagine the time measure is number of fencing matches. In my experience the shape of the blue line will be like a hill. Effectiveness will grow with the number of fights and eventually drop away as fatigue sets in. A number of factors will affect the shape of the hill. The fencer's fitness, the quality of the opponents, the delay between bouts etc but in general it will conform to a standard pattern. The task of the serious fencer is to get up the hill as soon as possible and stay there as long as they can! In my case I normally find that I fence acceptably in my first fight, get a little better in the second and then only really hit my stride in the third, fourth and fifth. It seems to me that after about 25 hits I am usually in the optimum zone where things seem to feel pretty good. Unfortunately things start to get worse after about 35-40 hits and I have to start modifying my appraoch! In the club at the moment we have a 'winner stays on system' which can mean continuous fencing for the person on form that evening. I think this is a good system as it means that it takes you nearer to your limits. In any form of training or exercise the real benefits only come when limits are pushed sensibly. Muscles only grow if they are reasonably tested; heart and lung function only strengthens if the heart rate and breathing are pushed to new (but safe) levels. A lot of the time club fencing is a case of one match then wait for 20 minutes until the next one. This is not the way of improving performance so you need to find a way of safely pushing yourself beyond your existing limits. Only then will you find and increase your zone!
I also believe that there is another line on the graph which represents mental focus, the point on which you are solely absorbed in fencing to the degree that you are not thinking about it, you are just doing it. For me, this graph runs down from left to right on a diagonal track, levelling out and meeting the blue line around the third fight. Only then have I shaken of the concerns of the working day to a degree that I can 'just fence'. It's a great place to be and it's the place we should aim for every time we get out on the piste.