Despite the premium on space, I can’t say enough nice things about Mid-South’s class and hospitality.  All of the referees were extremely professional, and there was the nice touch of having a selection of fruit, a plate of brownies and mixed nuts available for the fencers around lunchtime. For the refs, the armory became a miniature hospitality suite with fruit, water and soda, and lunch provided.

I was fairly happy with my performance in the pools. I felt good that morning and finished pools 4 and 1, only dropping one bout to B-ranked Adam Burkhart. I came out of that round seeded 10th, which bought me a bye for the first round of direct elimination. Next up was my friend Jim Kent. I watched Jim fence the previous round and felt that I had a good chance against him. I started out against him with a planned strategy, but found that Jim was ready for me. Seems he has an excellent memory for his opponents, and I was slow to respond. He got ahead early and I found myself fighting from behind. I tied him up at 14-14 and felt sure I could get one light to finish him off. Jim won 15-14.

Now I am more mature than I was when I first started fencing, and losing graciously, while still not a natural thing, comes easier. I was truly happy for Jim, he has worked hard at fencing and I was glad to see him move on. But of course I was disappointed, for a lot of reasons. I was hoping to at least break into the top 16. I also wanted to fence Michael Glapion, whom I know well as a referee but have not yet had the pleasure of facing on the strip. But something else concerned me. Can I ever really improve from my current level?

In the mid-1990′s, when I started fencing, I was a college student. What I lacked in money I made up for in time and dedication. Three days a week I made the half-hour drive from Athens to Atlanta to fence for three or more hours at a time and to take lessons with a world-class coach. I attended every tournament within a six-hour drive, and attended Nationals. I had strong fencers around me constantly. I had nowhere to go but up. But since 2006 I have been self-coached. I practice only one night a week, for an hour and a half, most of which is spent coaching.  I’m lucky to make one tournament a month. I doubt I will attend a national event. Now I have the money, I just don’t have the time. While my location limits some things, other sacrifices I have made willingly to reduce the stress on my family and leave time for my art. In short, I haven’t worked hard enough to earn the kind of success I want, and no matter how much I want it, it just isn’t going to happen without the work. That’s a bitter pill to swallow. But such is life: you can’t do everything you want to do. You have to make choices as to where to invest your time. Spend too much in one area and the others suffer. Fencing is tremendously important to me and will always have a place in my heart, but art is in my soul.

Thanks for reading. Peace,

MDR

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