Two years after starting this blog, I created a second that was focused on my career as a competitive fencer. Titled A Lunge in the Dark, I’d post to this blog a few times a month, most entries coming immediately before and after a tournament. But it was always a secondary effort to my work on this blog, and as I’ve dedicated myself over the past year to improving the quality of my primary effort, that second blog seemed more like an obligation than a passion. At the beginning of the year, I posted what was in effect a goodbye message, and haven’t followed that post with another.
It’s been obvious for some time that I needed to let go of the second blog, but if for no other reason than an unjustified feeling of self-importance, I didn’t just want to discard all of the material I’d written there. So I compromised by way of merger — earlier today, I imported all of my posts from A Lunge in the Dark into this blog. If you’re interested in reading a novice fencer wear his heart on his jacket (it’s not pretty, but it’s all real), click through the category I created today for the imported posts.
As for that fencing career . . . this morning was my first tournament in five months. Results were — well, insignificant and besides the point. Today was about competing: getting my butt back on strip, strapping the gray metal face over my head and pushing seeing what I can do with a (mostly) sharp weapon in my hand against opponents with as much battle lust as me. And while I took far more hits than I gave today, I came away with the goal I’d been seeking. The fire in my soul was ignited again, burning with an energy that charged through every cell in my body, a jolt of pure life that I feel at few other times. So yeah, I gave up more touches today than I scored in each of my bouts (save one, where I came back from 2-4 with the benefit of a few calls that went my way — sometimes it helps to have your coach serve as the official), I felt like a winner when I left today’s tournament.