Running on Empty

Despite what the title may seem like, I'm not going to write about the film starring River Phoenix or anything like that. This is going to be about how we feel while we fence. I noticed on Wednesday that we feel different things when fencing a variety of opponents. When I first began fencing, I became nervous around anyone wearing a white jacket or breeches. Since I have now fenced a variety of opponents, I don't really feel anything when I fence people. I feel calm, in a way. I only begin to feel pressured in a competition, in a DE. When I feel pressured, I tend to increase the pace a lot, but this leads to wild parries and bad footwork more often than not. Very rarely, my adrenaline kicks in. I can't really say for sure when this happens. I think that I get energised when I am fencing someone who I subconsciously want to do well against.

We don't always get emotional while we fence. There are also times when we have various states of fatigue. Since my injury, I become tired more often, but I always try to work to the best of my ability. In my opinion, there is tired, fatigued and empty. Tired is when we feel a slight nagging feeling in our muscles, telling us to slow down. Fatigued is when we feel drained, and feel as if we can't go on anymore. Empty is a feeling that I have only had twice in my fencing career. It occurred for the second time on Wednesday. It happens when you bypass tired, and then appear at fatigue. My legs were seriously aching, but I kept telling myself that fatigue is a message, and messages can be ignored. I pressed on, and I hit empty. It was very strange. I couldn't actually feel anything, and I felt as if I could keep on fencing for hours. Nothing seemed to be tiring anymore. Perhaps the strangest thing was that I wasn't thinking. I mean that I was thinking as in: functioning. Whenever my opponent attacked me, I was able to respond very quickly. After the fight, this feeling promptly left, and fatigue set in. Empty is very weird for me, but it is also very good. Maybe this forms the trance-like meditation that Buddhist's and Samurai seek for. If it is, I have only seen a glimpse of it. Or maybe I was just exhausted. Who knows?

Mocks

I have returned from my exams, and I have a few results so far. Some of them are pretty good, and some of them are not as good. I noticed that the subjects that I did well in are the subjects that I actually enjoy doing. If I don't like a subject, I tend to spend less time doing it. This is a direct parallel to my fencing style. I perform moves that I generally like, or that work on certain opponents. If something I do on the piste doesn't work, or if I don't like the feel of it, I often don't do it. Because of this, I feel that I should spend more time attempting to improve my lesser skills, instead of using something that I feel is easy. I shall try this experiment, and see how it goes.

The Last Post (for now)

As we are getting closer to Christmas, I have decided to stay off the air for a while, so this will be my last post for quite a while. Normally this wouldn't be the case, but I've got my mocks coming up, so I'm getting stuck into revision, which leaves little time for blogging, unfortunately. So, I am abandoning my blogging world, and withdrawing into the world of figures and annoying passages of German I have to learn.

So, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everybody!

The mocks finish on 16th January, so watch this space. (figuratively of course)

Also, here's another Poser Picture to look at:

Equal Lines

It's not often that you find a fencing fable or philosophy, so I was quite surprised when I came across one when I was reading. I have changed it slightly, but in essence, it's the same thing.

A coach is watching his students fence. He is more focused on one, than the other. He focuses on the one who is winning, and looks at his forms and tactics. He is waiting for his opponent to attack, and then hitting him with either a counter-attack or parry riposte, exploiting his opponent's shorter reach. He wins the fight 10-2. Afterwards, the coach calls him over, and shows him a piece of paper. He then draws two lines on it. A long one, and a short one. He then tells the student o make them equal, and hands him a pencil and an eraser. The student thinks for a moment, and then draws a line through the long line, cutting it so that it is the same length as the short line. He then rubs out the off cut. He hands the sheet of parer back to the coach. The coach smiles knowingly, and rubs out both the lines. 'Here's how you should do it', he says. He redraws the lines, and takes the pencil. He draws on a section to the short line, so that they are both equal. He pauses, and then draws another section onto it, making it longer. The lines have now been inversed. He hands the piece of paper to the pupil, and says to him:

Concentrate on improving your own game, rather than finding fault with your opponents. Extend your own line; extend yourself.

It's so simple, yet it is a great metaphor. I need to find some more of these, and if I do, I shall interpret them, and hopefully learn.

Original or Modern

Recently, they have been playing reruns of the Star Wars saga on TV, and I've noticed how much the original trilogy differs from the most modern films. The original trilogy focuses of the Force more or less as a religion, whilst the modern ones hardly seem to bring it into the film, and if they do, it is only as a type of power. Episodes 1, 2 and 3 demonstrate how the Jedi and the Sith conquer each other only through saber duels. The original trilogy brings a more religious attitude towards it, with meditation, empty minds and other such exercises. Following on from this, I think that people can be separated into the categories of people who fence from the original trilogy, and people who fence from the modern films. The latter want to be a form of Yoda who leaps around like Orville on speed. They want to become masters in a matter of years, and then duel to the death at competitions. The former are the people who realise that there is more to fencing than the foil. The foil is only as powerful as the fencer who wields it. Episode 5 demonstrates this perfectly. Luke spends half a year training with Yoda, and never once is told to use his weapon. These types of people spend longer training, and strive to perfect simple movements, rather than flashy, twirly ones. The modern trilogy people become dissatisfied quickly with fencing, as they realise that real fencing is not a lightsaber duel. I was refereeing a couple of beginners on Thursday. As soon as they began, one of them charged down the piste, casting aside all technique and form, literally running forwards, foil raised above his head. I promptly called halt, and told the fencer in question that this wasn't a film. I explained that the representation of swordplay in films is a Hollywood error, and that it was not the way to fence. I got an uncouth remark back, but I at least put my point across.

I think that I am closer to the original trilogy. I want to get better at individual techniques, rather than just win, and I also consider the mental side, rather than just the ideal place to hit just to puncture an artery. The majority of beginners are the modern trilogy, but there are a few who genuinely want to be like the original.

Up at the top of the page is a random picture of a Jedi Knight I made on Poser (a brilliant computer program). Rob, if you spot your own resemblance, I had you in mind with your Jedi interest.

Fencing Types

I brought a book on Saturday by an Olympic fencer with the name of Ziemowit Wojciechowski. His book is mainly for coaches, but I found it really good. It gives you lesson advice and group activities, but also tactical advice and fitness planning. It also gives you odd science formulas. For example:

i = Nc / Nc + Nr

One of the books highlights is probably the types of fencer. It divides them into four categories. Permanently-pressing, Maneuvering-attacking, Maneuvering-defending and Permanently defending. There are descriptions of them, examples, and ways how to beat them. I'm not really sure what my category is, but I think it is a Maneuvering-Defending type of style. For the record, here is the description:

Fencers of this style blend attacks and defensive strokes equally, paying a lot of attention to preparatory actions. They like manoeuvring on the piste while discovering their opponents intentions and playing a tactical game. They produce various parry-ripostes and counter attacks with equal ease as well as many attacks with the ability to switch to another action. Their initiative is sometimes hidden. They often create situations where an opponent reacts in a premeditated way but is not adequately successful.

Not all of this is true about me, but I think that it is the one I can relate to the most. However, I linger more towards parry ripostes and I don't maneuver that much. Still, I fall into a category at least. I'm not going to say how to beat the categories. I don't want to divulge all my secrets!

The Answer

Here it finally is, the answer to the question. It gets inside your head, the way questions do, always niggling at the back of your mind, but now it will leave, once the answer has been given.

Q: Who would win in a fight between the Wombles and the Clangers?

In the event of a draw, what if it were the Wombles versus the Clangers and Bagpuss?

A: Bagpuss.

Reason: I've been thinking about this, and I'm sure that Bagpuss is the solution. The fight has to be completely fair, so there can be no advantages. Because of this, the fight will have to take place in some half gravitational world. Also, it's just the Wombles and the Clangers, so the Clangers can't have the soup dragon as a killing machine, and the Wombles can't construct their own tank like contraption out of recycled waste. Although Tomsk was indeed the only 'hard' Womble, but he probably isn't used to half-gravity. Also, the Clangers would not be used to it either. At this point, no-one has the advantage. Call in Bagpuss, and there is a clear winner. He has the added advantage of a huge bulk, and although he wouldn't be able to move in normal gravity (because of his bulk), he has limited movement in this world. Even if he is wounded, another layer of fat would slide out from the wound. If the battle draws on, Bagpuss could live off his own stomach contents for decades to come. Therefore Bagpuss is the winner, and we should use him for all future conflicts in the world.

The answer has been told, and I hope that no-one is dissappointed.