On the first day that I came to Team K, Kay asked me to show him my shadow fencing. When I moved as fast as I could forward and backward (because all the best fencers move both directions), to my dismay Kay kept the same stern look on his face. He asked me to halt and then told me to try again but with no half steps. Now I did not believe there were any half-steps because of course I didn’t try to make any, but to amuse him I tried again. I put more power and just kept moving the same way. Kay stopped me a second time to ask me to move without half steps. Now I was getting upset because not once did I try to move with a half step and that was some fantastic shadow fencing. Once again, I moved faster and with more power. Once again, Kay stopped me. This time he had me slow all the way down to move one foot at a time for every advance and retreat. Only then did I realize my footwork was riddled with half-steps, hops, and well stomps instead of steps. Now you may be asking yourself, “How did you got to the point where you could not even control your movement after 4 years of fencing?”
For me fencing was like a trip to a roulette table, I threw all my chips on black 24 and prayed the ball would land there. All I would see is if I won or lost. If I won nothing needed to be addressed. If I lost it was always about the specific action I chose or sticking with the analogy the number. I figured if I wanted to win, I just needed to try harder. I put more time in lifting, agility ladders, and lessons. As you might have predicted, this led nowhere. I became obsessed with results. I always blamed my lack of results on something else, a boogie man per say. I could not see why I would lose and that would lead me into a rage. Fencing became tied to my emotions. When an action would not work, I would just try again with more power. The problem with more power is that the action becomes larger, later timed, and slower. The harder I would try the faster I would lose. Tournaments were miserable for me. Every time, I entered with the same aspirations but fencing nearly identical to what I presented at the last tournament.
In the last Ontario tournament, I placed in a spot very similar to where I used to place, but for the people who saw it, my fencing could not have been more different. After each bout I could clearly explain why I was able to hit and why I got hit. I did not just sit back and hope for an opportunity to get a touch, but I watched my opponents and created situations where I could hit. No matter how much I was losing by I still fought my hardest. I used countless skills in even more different situations. I had complete control over myself and what I did. All these are things that I could not imagine doing in the past. Even though I did not get a medal or a new rating I am extremely proud of what I did.
Everything I showed off at this tournament was built a little bit at a time. Every tournament I fenced last season produced similar results, but every tournament I had a massive smile on my face when discussing it the next practice because I had to explain that I broke a new record of mine. The change is not just in my fencing. At the club I now have a large presence. Even when we are all lying on the floor from exhaustion during practice, I realize I can lift the mood whether that is by making a joke or cheering one of my teammates on. In the past I would blend into the background, too caught up in my own anger or self-disappointment.
The change is so drastic that it is honestly difficult to fully explain how this difference makes me feel. If I just focused on results, then I would have never improved. If I just focused on results, I would have quit fencing a long time ago. Instead, I focused on my progress which allowed me to do things I never through possible. Right now, I fence in a way that most fencers cannot reach. In the club and outside of fencing the changes speak for themselves. If you have any questions or would like to talk
about what I shared, I am happy to continue this conversation. I cannot wait to see how everyone has improved at the end of the season.