Foil, twelve years later...
Today I competed in foil for the first time in twelve years. That statement all by itself is enough for one blog entry, mostly because I am home now, I am out of my gear and I have eaten. Sleep calls me like a siren, and you know I love me some sirens. I started the event the way I start all events lately, with an open mind and an eye for having fun. What have I got to lose anyway? I met some good people, hung out with some great people, and got off of my tubby ass for a day. I figure my fencing friends are going to need a moment to grok the concept of me fencing foil. I'm too tired to wait, so they are just going to have to stop reading, come to peace with the facts and start reading again. I would suggest from the beginning. That siren thing, was pretty good.
My first and only opponent today was the heat. 30 seconds into my first bout I was overcome with outrageous temperature control issues. I could not cool off. Needless to say, when all of my thought and effort is trying to drop my core temperature, my actual fencing against the humans suffered. I won two, I lost two and came out with a -1 indicator. Not bad for someone was was red faced, panting and sweating as though dunked. My personal health care specialist Henri was on site and she quickly turned my towel into a wet towel for the purposes of cooling off. I placed the towel alternating between the top of my head and the back of my neck. My referee, was helpful, he reminded me that the damp towel could damage my lame. Great advice as no matter what, I am still sturdier than the metalic woven vest one must wear for foil competition.
After Blades at the Beach where I was in serious danger from heat related illness, I became quite the expert on my own nutrition, hydration, and cooling strategies. Still, the odds are against me. In Mechwarrior, when you overheat you can dump your coolant for a quick fix. The best a person can do is pee, and all available liquid was already being pumped through my skin. Once on the surface it was trapped under t-shirt, underarm protector, knickers, jacket, lame, glove, and mask. Still sweating was better than the alternative.
Between pools and direct elimination I went outside and was able to start making headway against my core temperature. When the dust settled, I ended up right where I wanted to be, in the middle. Get a bout with someone as good as you are, fence really well, have a good close bout, lose and go home. Reality used to be a friend of mine. Three out of the eleven of us in the event tied at sixth place. This meant that I had to fence the tenth place person. He is a really cool guy I wouldn't mind hanging out with outside of fencing. He fought hard and gave me a heck of a bout, but in the end even with my critical meltdown issue, I had twelve years of watching other people fence behind me and I won based on being able to adapt faster than he could.
After this direct elimination bout, I had ten minutes to rest up before the next one. I spent my time outside sucking wind and hoping I didn't vomit. My next direct elimination bout introduced the instant cold pack to my repitoir. (I spelled that all by myself by the way)
If heat had not been an issue, I would have won that bout. As it was, I cheered her touches as much as she cheered her own touches and begged her to finish me. I didn't give up, I didn't give in, I just asked that she step it up and fence harder for her win. When I was finally able to shed my layers of choking white cloth the score was 15-12 and I didn't have to fence anymore.
I said my goodbyes, thanked the referee and the fencer, gathered up my stuff went outside in knickers and a t-shirt, put away my gear and dumped my coolant mechwarrior style, if my dumping your coolent you really mean throwing up. Foil is hot work. I spent the ride home alternating between being too hot and too cold. Now, fed, and in my underwear I feel much better.
Time for sleep. Epee is at one tomorrow, and I'm not going to end up finished in the middle by myself.
