This weekend was exhausting, but worth it. For all of my drive and optimism at Pennsic, I lost interest in fencing over the past couple of months. This wasn't fencing's fault, I lost interest in most things, and fencing I at least managed to continue working on. I've been dragging myself out to practice, taking notes, and enjoying myself when there, but everything else, from drilling at home to research to taking care of my weapons, has fallen into the province of tiresome but necessary chores.* And it's an unfortunate cycle. If I don't work, I don't improve, and the longer I fail to improve the thicker the drudge I have to shake off to find my interest again.
But today I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, unheard of for a Monday, and I did five minutes of dagger drills. Tomorrow it will be ten, plus footwork, and we'll see where things go from there.
So About The Tournament (Round Robin)
On Saturday I entered my sixth tournament. (I was surprised to find that number was so high, but technically I was in three tournaments at this past Pennsic, even if I bowed out of one early and another ended early due to heat.) Having watched K&Q last year, I was excited and not terribly stressed about entering. Round robin pools that are "deep" with talent are only great for me. No matter how well or poorly I do, I'm going to get a set number of excellent fights and good experience. Far less stressful than double elim, and less quick and chaotic than a bear pit. So in the week leading up I wasn't thinking too much about the tournament beyond its being on my calendar.
But I hate long drives late at night, and so I made the mistake of waking up early and driving five hours before sign ups closed. I know my body's frequently illogical reactions well, and so I made sure to minimize my caffeine intake during the drive proper, ate a reasonable breakfast on the road, and ate a packed lunch once I arrived, but even so I was jittery and unsettled. It didn't feel quite like the performance anxiety that I associate with tournaments, but my current theory is that it was that combined with the physical stress of minimal sleep and general social anxiety caused by being in an unfamiliar situation teeming with noise and strangers.
I did try to snag a warm up beforehand, because often if it's only physical jitteriness a few fencing passes will resettle me, but if anything that highlighted how out of it I was, and I settled into a state of trepidation.
The trepidation eased slightly when Countess Marguerite was called in the same pool I was. Not because of familiar or unfamiliar fights, which everyone brought up when I mentioned that, but for the comfort of her presence. I technically knew a few other fencers in the pool, but particularly at that point I needed to be around at least one person who didn't spike my social anxiety. I'm still new enough to the society at large that I assume every action I'm taking is somehow wrong, and I go deer in the headlights when strangers start speaking to me. Having a friend nearby eases all of that significantly.
Still, I was in the first pairing in our pool and in the worst headspace I've been in since my first tournament. I took diligent notes after every battle and made sure to at least smile at and thank my opponents before retreating back to my carved out safe corner, but those first few fights were a complete blur, even immediately after the fact. I started improving as the day went on, less due to any changes in thinking on my part and more, I assume, because fencing started calming my body down and the situation became rote enough that all my "What do I do?" anxieties faded.
I ended on a high note: A fight I was legitimately pleased with and a giant hug from Meggie. But for the rest of the day I described my overall performance as meh and lackluster and some of the worst I've had. Which I think in retrospect is unfair. Even feeling as poorly as I did, I can compare this tournament to previous tournaments and see improvement. I wasn't clicking and thinking in my fights the way I've gotten used to, but even without a brain there are certain things I can take for granted now that I couldn't before. I don't have to think about setting up. I don't have to think about spotting openings (taking advantage of them, however...). At least a few parries and shots I now manage instinctively. Would I have fought better if I weren't a jittery mess? Absolutely. But it's nice to see that my baseline has shifted.
I doubled twice. Once in my first fight, falling into a habit I've noticed at practice, where at a certain closeness I forget my sword and simply attack with my dagger. Too focused on offense, I did stab my opponent, but at the same time he got me with his sword solidly in my center line. (Which broke his sword. The first time I've seen that happen. It was an... exciting and surprising start to the day.) My second double was against one of the historic Italian fencers I most enjoy watching, and talking about it afterward it was clear we threw nearly identical shots and failed at the exact same dagger parry. Gotta work on that.
My two wins were a rote parry-stab win that I still didn't think or get much out of, against an opponent who looked as unsettled as I was, and the fight I actually felt awake during with Meggie. She brought her buckler, having bent her dagger on the fencer whose sword I broke (it was a strange day in our pool), and for all that buckler intimidates me, I actually remembered and executed the advice Lilias gave me at practice ages ago about threatening bucklers, I remembered to move my feet, something I've been forgetting lately, and the shot I finally landed was from an angle I traditionally have trouble with (both throwing and defending against), which is essentially under and up. I felt awake, it felt good, and Meggie's enthusiastic celebration made me blush happily. I'm sad that that only came together on my last fight, but glad that of all the people on the list, the person I cared about got my best fight of the day.
After that point I felt fine and my hands had stopped shaking, but instead of pursuing pickups I chatted with folks until the final 16 started up.
The Sweet 16 (My Friends Fight Pretty)
I am eternally pleased and proud by how well my local practices acquit themselves in every tournament I watch. I know that I'm surrounded by good friends, people, and fencers, but seeing them do well and get recognition for doing well, (and for all the hard work that I see every week), will never stop being wonderful. A significant portion of the sixteen were people I know and care about, and whose fights are always worth watching. I spent most of the start bouncing on my toes and trying to watch two or three fights at once, grateful for the best out of three format because it meant that I could generally watch at least one pass from every pairing.
The fact that all the final fencers had to fight single until they lost a match made it that much better to watch. I've almost certainly acquired a bias through osmosis, but single rapier fights are some of the prettiest. And more than that, it seems to distill technique, or at least is a more familiar language to me. Watching someone with case fight someone with buckler, I can't as easily compare their styles. But single versus single brought clarity to some of those pairings that was a delight to watch and analyze. I haven't had that much fun watching a tournament since the first time I watched Pennsic Rapier Champs and decided that my friends were all studying a particularly violent form of art. (Which they are.)
That alone made up for the lackluster start to the day, but then three of the final four were Handsome Calivers and folks I care about. Remy, Malocchio, and Lupold. Their fights were absolutely gorgeous from beginning to end. The small movements, the testing and shifting guards, the explosively violent close games.... They were amazing and heart-wrenching and anyone who doesn't think that fencing is a spectator sport hasn't seen any of those three fight. And the care they all took to make sure the fights were clean and clear and honest might be taken for granted, but I'm grateful to have such a fine quality of friends and role models. (You three are all inspirational and should feel good about yourselves.)
In the end, Lupold won King's Champion, and Malocchio both won Queen's Champion and received a writ for his elevation to Master of Defense. It was a good day.
Inspiration and Identity (But What About Me?)
More than anything else, those fights reminded me why I started fencing. Not as an excuse to get out of the house and see people on a regular basis (though that's helpful) and not to fight in melees in war (though that's fun), but because it's an art, and it's beautiful, and if I can echo even a fraction of the brilliance of the people around me, it will be well worth the effort. Good fencing is smooth, efficient, and deliberate, and every fencer has their own personality, even if they've studied the same styles. I walked away from my first fencing Pennsic hoping to find my path and fencing "voice," and I let that lapse. I shouldn't have.
I still don't think of myself as a fencer, which I expect would surprise my SO, who's learned that the only sacred calendar entry is fencing practice. In the taxonomy of the SCA, of course I am. I'm a Handsome Boy, I spend all my time with fencers, and I've barely dabbled in the other parts of the society. (Which I would like to change, admittedly.) But in my daily life this still feels like an art and a joy that I've borrowed from others. It feels insincere to admire a beautiful blade, be excited to read a period manual, or have opinions and preferences on fight styles. It feels like the height of hubris to try to figure out my fencing personality. Am I really the kind of person who wants to go home and watch Duello or am I trying to force this hobby?** I suspect that as much as I worry about dagger guards and angles, the actual best step forward would be to let that go. That's going to be difficult, and I'm not sure how to go about it, but days like Saturday are a good start.
I am multiclassing, admittedly. This isn't my one love the way it is for many of my friends, and I'm allowed to forgive myself for splitting my time, but not devoting all my developmental energy to this art doesn't make it less my own.
Everything Else (Requisite Subtitle)
Even after a year and change, I'm still figuring out how I best learn. One of my favorite small moments all day involved watching the finals, seeing a small movement from one of the fighters, and finally having advice folks have been giving me for months click into place. Telling me something or my reading something are both helpful, and they'd help me write a book on fencing theory, but where verbal input maps to verbal output for me, I need some combination of visual and kinesthetic learning to actually change the way I fight. I need to see something from the outside and the inside to properly understand what it is and what I need to change. So. More drills, more Duello, more slow work, and more asking for demonstrations when people give me advice. Fortunately that's pretty typical among fencers, and even when I got caught up in a lengthy conversation about different Italian styles later on with a fencer from my pool, it included stance demonstrations and corrections.
That conversation and others that followed are slowly adding to the list of people who comfort me with their presence. I apparently hide my social anxiety well from people who don't know me, which I find fascinating, but it's there. There are fencers at my practices I've never fought, and when I mentioned this to some folks they were surprised, then nodded and pointed out that those are intimidating fighters. But that's never the problem. I don't really even understand why I'd be afraid to spar against someone better than me. (Also, look at who else I practice with. No one is intimidating to fight.) So long as at least one of us is getting something from the practice (and preferably both of us!) everything is fine. But interacting with strangers is troubling, and even if we're in the same room every week, if we don't talk we don't know each other.
Another conversation I had included a reference to joining tournaments with the goal of making a name for oneself, and I recoiled from the thought. Too many people know my name already! I've enjoyed being the invisible newbie following around the Handsome Boys. I've literally never had to walk up for court, and I think that's been good for my heart. Every time someone new remembers my name or compliments me I'm flattered, but a little startled. Still, I'm happy to sword nerd and beer nerd and general nerd at folks in safe places, and the more I do that the less jittery I'll be. And the moment someone asks to fight me again I feel 100% more comfortable around them. Which is perhaps an odd state of affairs, but it seems appropriate, at least.
Going forward, I'm hoping that this renewed energy isn't a fluke, and that I can at least use it to jump start my good habits and enthusiasm until Birka, which was a good inspiration reminder last year. The fencing practice on Sunday will help. I might finally try to think about a fencing playlist, which seems almost silly to me, but might help in a roundabout way with thinking about how I fence and the mindset I associate with fencing, so perhaps it will be a good exercise. And if I can figure out some kata-like drills to relax into for November, I expect both my fencing and my NaNoWriMo writing will appreciate it.
All in all, Saturday was amazing, I've been reminded that fencing brings me joy, I'm proud of my people, and I will forever remember that New Jersey is really far away. Now here's hoping I get some drill updates and Capoferro notes in this space in the next week or so.
* Except writing about Capoferro, which keeps getting delayed not due to lack of interest, but because I can't figure out the proper balance between "These are the concrete notes I am taking away." and "Did you see this turn of phrase? Ugh. I'm so happy about this." But I'll power through that in the next week or two so that I can finally get out of the theory and introduction and into the plates.
** I almost certainly want to watch Duello.tv, and having been reminded how much of a visual learner I am I will start picking that back up again.
