Fencing – The Wellington Open 15/05/16

Three years ago this weekend, this would have been my first experience of an open fencing competition. In this case familiarity only breeds greater affection each year and I think this will always be my favourite open being the sentimental soul I am!

In 2015 I was equal third in the Women’s Foil, winning my first medal in fencing. With a larger number of entries this year, in fact almost the same number as the first year I went I set out with an open mind in terms of a repeat achievement.

After what seemed like an endless blur and merging of hotel rooms from Birmingham to Bath and one long, never-ending train journey since the end of March, it almost felt too blissfully easy to wake up at home and pull on my kit, albeit eyes half shut at 5am! Then just over an hour and a half in a car with a few good friends to the venue.

Passing around the promised home-made lemon-drizzle cake – strictly to Truro fencers only! – I plugged into the warm-up play-list through an espresso-induced buzz-haze and began stretching. As usual the weather was absolutely glorious outside so not breaking with tradition, after checking in, I went for a few laps round the outside of the gym hoping I’ve remembered where and how many steps there are!

No arguments with random forgotten steps, I found my way back to the ‘Truro camp’, kitted-up and my checked foils. Putting new tape on a blade, it struck me how everything felt so wonderfully familiar and even the smallest things like knowing exactly where all the doors were and the toilets, changing rooms etc. makes such a huge difference. As well as already having a good idea of how the lighting will affect the level of vision I have on the piste; all these things that can distract my attention from focusing on a competition itself were here, suddenly I realised, with the familiarity a happy irrelevance!

Overall, I won half my fights in each of the two poules which gave me a ‘by’ into the last eight, meaning I had to win my first direct elimination (DE) in order to win a bronze medal. Somehow though, I’d convinced myself, probably as there were more fencers and my mind tends to dissolve at the hint of anything remotely mathematical, that I had to win the second DE for a bronze! In actual fact on reflection, this probably helped my focus in what would be my last DE and final fight of the day.

No advance on bronze this year then, but still another bronze (if initially an ‘oblivious’ medal!) more invaluable experience, and great memories with friends to treasure. See you all next year!

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British Fencing Senior Nationals 16/04/16

Arriving almost in the dark at the hotel in East London, having navigated my way (without any hiccups so far!) from home, plus all the fencing kit still intact and not got myself lost on the DLR, I wandered round the car park looking for the way in! As it began to rain I was so exhausted I had no option but to giggle at myself. “This is Bristol all over again!” I thought! “I manage to get all the way here, however many hundred miles, then I can’t find the door!” Five minutes more bumbling and I’d managed to find the right door and check in.

After meeting up with a close friend, we sat in my room after breakfast the next day chatting and re-taping blades having decided not to navigate the DLR back to the venue but share a taxi. As the taxi pulled up I think we both had a rush of adrenaline and for me the thought process began from there.

Having tried as long as I could to see this as ‘any other competition’ as we arrived at the venue I gave up on that mantra! For anyone I think, a step up like this in any situation is going to make you learn a lot about yourself and massively quickly. The numbers of fencers there was probably the first thing that hit me – my only previous experience of so many of us in one place was The Excalibur in Bath last year (and also this year the weekend after the Nationals). As we trundled ourselves and our kit between wires and weapons, around feet and up uneven steps, I noted the ‘smell’ of a competition too.

I realised for the first time that that adds to my adrenaline! Strange or not the smell of the tape on the floor, the wooden floors themselves, the bitter-sweet fencing-only damp kit smell, all of it so subliminally familiar yet for some reason today so intense. As we checked-in I was humbled by the reaction of the staff at the desk who recognised who I was and I didn’t have to explain about my vision. Blushing as one lady sang my praises, I now also have it on authority that I am the only blind fencer to have entered the British Nationals! That did a lot to shoot the adrenaline up a notch!

The hall we were fencing in was at the end of a long, blue (in my mind) corridor from where we make our camp. To my relief the lighting was far less intense in there, although sadly the pistes were carpet and not aluminium – less scope for figuring out opponents’ footwork as clearly, but still. The organisation was as slick as Birmingham but much quicker! Barely had time to get through two Led Zeppelin tracks on the play-list before my friend showed me which piste my poule was on. Piste 21 – it’s stuck in my memory! 6 fights.

Remembering to breathe, just about as I plugged in, I was haunted by the dreaded “what on EARTH am ‘I’ doing here?!?!?”. Battling it away I pushed my shoulders back and down, settled into en guarde position and took a deep breath. “I’m here. Full stop.” I tell my panicking head. The first hit, of my first fight at the first Nationals I’ve been to, was mine! It shocked and delighted me at the same time. I planned it, I set it up, I made it work and (unusually for me) it was an attack, not a point in defence! I’d aimed for at least a point in each poule fight, if not to win one. Sadly, no win but a point or more in most of them. The poules seemed to vanish all too quickly after the initial “why am I here?!” panic. There was just time to catch up with my friend for a brief coffee and to top up the banana-and-dark-chocolate energy before the DE’s were called and we went to find the right piste.

I really did want to win that DE so badly. I poured it all out and gave it every last bit or me. The four points I ended up with I worked my hardest for. Another 11 next year and that would be me into the last 64. We’ll see!

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Birmingham International 26/03/2016

First fencing competition of 2016 and it feels like a lifetime since my last (the Welsh in November) and like yesterday at the same time.
The venue itself was easy enough to find – and no arguments with doors! Fascinatingly, the sports complex is like a maze over two floors!

Unfazed – I’ve begun to find this initial part of a previously un-entered competition almost a calming ‘ritual’ now – I use it as part of the adrenaline-build. The organisers were absolutely fantastic, one of them extremely kindly walked me round the entire venue, showing me all the halls I may be fencing in and giving me time to make all-important landmarks with colours, numbers of steps, counting doors etc.
Playlist firmly plugged into ears in a relatively deserted hall, both myself and a close friend simultaneously warm up. Unspoken language between me not ‘seeing’ and neither of us hearing over headphones, superstitions, rituals and thought processes begin. And of course the dark chocolate, for me at least!

It’s fluent this time, no waiting and before I could think about last minute tape or where the Allen key is I’m plugged in. Weirdly, the first time I’ve not had nerves and actually found myself wanting, needing more adrenaline. Although in some ways an advantage, the measured aggression needed just wouldn’t materialise.

The poules flew – overall, I achieved more in points than the Bristol Open which was a similar level event, but for my personal standards and aims I was pretty unsatisfied with my fencing and determined to give the DE my all. And did!
No medals this time again, but achieving a point more than at Bristol was something to take home. Along with a wealth of experience than can only be gained from doing.

Within 24 hours of being home, I’ve stuck to my promise to myself and between a mixture of the “what an Earth am I doing??!” and the “just do it!” I’ve entered the British National Championships this April and as I waited for the page to load with the foil entries, even just seeing my name there gave me butterflies!

So, next stop, London 16/04/16.

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Fencing at the Welsh Open 2015

This was another ‘first time’ individual fencing event for me at the suggestion of a few friends during the Bristol Open.

Arriving two hours before Foil check-in as a good friend of mine who brought us is fencing in the Epee event, I’m already buzzing and fighting to contain the adrenaline reserves until later.

Re-taping, testing and double testing foils more than dissolves the time. As well as various (probably audible obscenities!) as I battle with completely invisible grub screws!

Finally I check-in and have already mentally begun my warm-up. Clocking almost every piste is metal – brilliant! More scope for contrast, shape and colour, more chance to hear and gauge opponents’ rhythm and speed. The lighting is all artificial so no sudden random variations (although I doubt the sun would’ve put in an appearance through the solid autumn drizzle-dirge!). After a careful ramble, I’d also counted pistes left to right to get the piste numbers and noted plenty of space between each so less opportunity for potential ‘Little Miss Bump’ encounters with wires, spools, bags etc.!

Creature of habit, I have ‘the last’ cigarette (yes, disgusting but arguably traditionally/historically connected to fencing – my excuse!) I get chatting to another lady Foilist who is so relieved to know she’s not ‘the only one’ with the bad habit! She notices the Black Sabbath tattoo on my left arm and the conversation turns to music.

As Fate decided, only half an hour previously I’d been talking music with my friends fencing Epee and artists who also fence. It’s been on the ‘dream-list’ forever to get to fence with Bruce Dickinson, maybe even Mick Fleetwood (if he still fences?!) and well long conversation short, it turns out this lady had the same coach as Bruce Dickinson for a time and went on to tell me with much animation how they’d happened to cross paths again very recently and that he was getting back into fencing where she fences regularly. I think I just pulled stupid faces! Well okay rationale, but cynicism aside for a second it was a truly awesome way to start a competition!

Back inside, dark chocolate, sips of water stretch and plug into the ‘play-list’. As I find an empty piste and start high kicks etc., I still can’t help wondering “should I slip the Dogtanian theme in there too!?” Really just so apt from the childhood perspective! Odd maybe next to Led Zeppelin ‘Ramble On’ and ‘Rock and Roll’ and Fleetwood Mac ‘Don’t Stop’ and ‘Never Going Back Again’!

Half humming some bizarre hybrid of the Dogtanian theme and Fleetwood Mac I find the piste for the poules and after politely explaining the limitations of my refereeing at this level, my first opponent recognises me from the World Service Facebook page! Turning the same colour as my mask at the lovely things she’s saying, she introduces herself as Rhiannon! (Forgive me an ironic giggle inside!).

If not to win, my usual goal of making it tough for them and getting at least a point in every poule bout got a tick expect the last one.
More than ready for the finals after what always seems an unending wait, I’d found that blissful balance of energy, concentration and adrenaline by the time the DE sheets were put up.

I’ve only done it once before, so I was somewhere between a state of elation and total disbelief after I won 15 – 13. I think my friend had minor hysterics when he asked how it went and apparently I dazedly replied “I think I just won that?!”

Managing to get five points in the second DE I was ranked 31st overall out of around 40 fencers who entered. After the following comments from my amazing coach and fellow fencers, there was more than earned reason to celebrate with a bottle of fizz and ‘Don’t Sop’ on repeat! See you next year Wales!

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September 20th 2015

Almost as soon as I hit the ‘entre’ option on the competition form the adrenaline butterflies begin! Even carting around the kit, manipulating, steps, trains, other bags plus white cane and trying not to decapitate any innocent passenger in the process is all part of the build-up for me.

Arriving in Bristol the night before the competition, I’m excited and honestly always controlling nervous energy. My mind is overflowing with all the usual questions the most pressing of which for me with a venue I’ve never fenced in before is always the lighting. It’s also the first high-level individual competition I’ve entered and I’m prepared for hard work and the possibility of not even winning a fight, but, I also craved the experience of an event of this calibre.

The first challenge I had was quite simply finding the door! Getting there in plenty of time, I could see people (moving blobs) inside fencing but after wandering round could find no apparent entry! Bemused, after texting a friend also competing I was ‘rescued’.

It’s never until I begin to warm up and stretch and start my superstitious munching of dark chocolate that I get the initial intense rush of adrenaline. In all honesty too, although I’ve managed to almost obliterate its relevance, is the ‘how much am I going to be able to see here?’ question.

It turned out that for me, that the brightness of the lighting was extremely difficult and all the usual contrasts and shadows were more of a distraction than a help. So it was time to focus on the muscle memory!

All ready to go into the poule, having found the right piste and made the referees and organisers aware of my vision, one of the organisers asked if she could have a word. She mentioned a gentleman from a local radio station who was interviewing fencers for their sport feature and said that he would be very interested to chat with me with regard to me being blind.

Managing to win one fight in my poule of six and only having one bout with no points, I couldn’t be disappointed as I honestly thought I wouldn’t win even one!

Poules done, rambling randomly through a moving blur of white and silver, attempting to avoid spools, wires, weapons and standing on anyone, the gentleman from the radio spotted me. Too wired by now to even consider being nervous we had a really great chat and many laughs. On giving him my email, he picked up on the surname and asked if he could add an extra bit to the end of what he’d already recorded – he couldn’t believe I was a relation and was enthused! As always I found this humbling as being part of that heritage means the world to me. After taking some ‘Lord of the Rings’ style photos we went our separate ways and I felt it was wonderful to have had the opportunity to share my story.

The DE was certainly no ‘knock-out’ but there were no medals for me at Bristol this year. However it truly was a fantastic experience, from the atmosphere and the fencing to having had the chance through Fate to share my story and at the time I had no idea where that interview would lead over the next month! A massive “Thank You” to you Neil Maggs!

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