Temper Temper

So I was at the Darach war practice on Sunday and something funny happened. Well, it wasn’t really funny in that “Ha ha, oh Enid, you card!” way that’s always soooo charming, it was funny in that “Wow, I just completely took myself aback by doing something really unexpected!” way.

I was in a line standing across from a gentleman who killed me just as I thought I tip-cut across the width of his forearm (in Caid, a tip cut across the width of a limb is enough to render it useless). His kill on me was unquestionable, but as I turned around to walk back to the resurrection point, I saw him turn and continue to fight his way down the line, both arms intact and in use.

I’m not going to definitively say I did or I didn’t hit his arm, because really, mistakes happen on both sides, and the point of this post is not to cast aspersion on a member of my community or to paint myself as some kind of tolerant, saintly wronged party, but rather to confess something a bit shameful about myself:

As I was walking back to the res point, I heard myself say “Hey, don’t take that arm or anything!”

Now, in the grand scheme of things, this is not a big deal. It’s not like I shouted it at him across the line, or went screaming to the marshals frothing at the mouth, or ran back from the res point looking for revenge, or jumped across the line and kicked him in the kneecap, or waited patiently for the first opportunity to slash his tires and put sugar in his gas tank. No one even heard me say it, as far as I know, because I was surrounded by ten feet of empty grass in every direction. But it struck me. What was I saying? Why did I have an issue with this guy? What possessed me to actually speak my frustrations out loud and uncensored, rather than doing something productive about them? I’m not the kind of person who says stuff like that just to vent, right?

But bottom line is, I did say it, it was rude, and it was petty and passive-aggressive. It wasn’t even prompted by a serious issue, because if I’d had a serious problem with him, I would have asked him about it, right then and there. That’s probably what I should have done anyway, just to clear the air.

The point is, my temper was up, I got annoyed, and I let it come out without even thinking about it. I was just blowing off steam. I remember hearing myself say something and stopping, really surprised at such a display of bad behavior. Actually, my annoyance at him completely vanished because the behavior struck me as so out of character.

See, one of my biggest pet peeves on the field is people who can’t control their temper. It’s a close second to unchivalrous jerks who can only have a good time if they’re winning. To me, losing your temper on the field is indicative of only one thing: that it’s time for you to be somewhere else. I see someone march off the field, swearing holes in the ozone layer, or throwing their gear around on the sidelines, or yelling and crying about the terrible time they’re having (unless they’re actually injured, of course), and I wonder why they’re there in the first place. Clearly they’re not having a good time, and now they’re making a big deal about it, probably impacting other folks’ good time, and generally acting childish. Temper tantrums don’t get three year olds what they want, why should adults expect anything different?

I realize I’m not necessarily demonstrating the most magnanimous perspective here, but it’s something I feel pretty strongly about. The rapier field is not the place for temper tantrums, just like it’s not the place for backbiting, hurt feelings, or any manner of unchivalrous behavior. If you have a problem with someone, you find them, and a marshal if you really think it’s necessary, and you discuss it rationally, like grown-ups. Everyone gets pissed off, everyone gets upset, and everyone has a right to their feelings—but, as much as is possible, it should not affect your game. As one of my favorite YouTube videos tells us:

“Feelings? Look, mate, you know what has a lot of feelings? Blokes what bludgeon their wife to death wif a golf trophy. Professionals have standards. Be polite. Be efficient. Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.”

I’m not much of a one for mottos, but the last few sentences above seem pretty apropos to me, fencing-wise. That and “If you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong.”

I appreciate that it's not always easy to see the big picture or keep from getting frustrated, and Lord knows I don't always practice what I preach, but that's the mindset with which I try to approach life on the rapier field. In fact, I have a higher standard of behavior for myself on the rapier field than I do off. It's a combative environment, one full of physical force, yelling, and emotional highs. Tempers can flare, feelings can be hurt, and resentments can brew. In my own little way, I try to pay it forward by staying upbeat, keeping myself smiling and trying to get others to smile too, and trying to cultivate an attitude of generosity.

Usually, I’m pretty good at keeping my cool, and at fixing bad behavior when I notice it or hear about it (for example, I used to swear a lot on the field, but I don’t at all anymore). I’m often snarky, occasionally sarcastic, frequently profane, and generally as imperfect as everyone else, but I very rarely let myself get angry on the rapier field. I have an extraordinarily long fuse, and am more likely to laugh at someone who’s pissing me off than I am to yell at them. Screaming, crying, and passive-aggressive BS are not usually my thing, which is why the random exclamation on Sunday surprised me so much.

Is that really so far a cry from marching off the field, whipping off my mask, bursting into tears, and yelling at everyone in earshot about whose fault it is that I’m not having fun anymore? Because (SPOILER ALERT) the person who’s responsible for me having or not having fun is me. I’m in control of my behavior, or so I thought, and I can choose to ignore bad stuff, behave chivalrously, and try to increase my own and other folks’ fun. I don’t want to start exhibiting behavior I find shameful, disappointing, or immature, even if the only person who knows about it is me.

At the end of the day, the net impact of my actions on the field was probably nothing, but the net impact of my actions on myself was worth noticing. I surprised myself. I expected better from myself. If nothing else, it’s a valuable reminder that, as easygoing as I try to be, I do have a temper in there somewhere, and sometimes it acts without consulting the upper management. That’s not an excuse—it’s just something I have to keep an eye on, and apparently should have been before now.

The New Year: Plans, little thoughts, and a dash of whatnot.

This is just a little check-in post, not a lot of groundbreaking revelations here, just some stuff I've noticed and updates on current projects.

I took about a month off of fencing this winter, both by accident and by design--our cat went back into congestive heart failure and we decided to put her down, I traveled up to the Bay Area to be with my family for a week over the holidays, I got back into town and was booked solid for New Year's weekend, and then we got about a week of rain which mired our local practice and occurred around the same time I sprained my right foot, which I had injured the year before and which frustrated me hugely. It was a busy month, and between the emotional stuff, the physical stuff, and the logistics of the holidays, fencing got put on the back burner.

I fought yesterday at the Caid pre-Estrella melee practice, and I was pretty pleased with my performance. My parries are doing really well, and while my endurance isn't up to par (you mean a month of holiday food and no fencing has, like, detrimental effects? Madness!), overall I felt like I did well. My reflexes, if nothing else, seem to be continuing to improve. I no longer seem to be letting my offhand do all the work for me--both my sword and offhand parries were fairly good yesterday, and I felt like they worked well together. It's worth noting that my calibration suffered a bit after the time off, and a couple of my hits near the end of the day were rather hard. I felt crappy about it and apologized, naturally, and managed to get it under control in fairly short order.

I've been careful not to stress out my tennis elbow during the last couple of months, and I'm pleased to say I fenced for about four hours yesterday and am not feeling it at all today. I was having some trouble with it last week, but I took my fish oil twice a day and stretched it out with some reps on my one-pound hand weight, and that seems to have helped.

I could feel my recently-sprained foot muscles working really hard yesterday, but they didn't hurt in a bad way, if that makes sense. They ached and felt tight, but they didn't throb, feel hot, or sting/burn in the way I've come to associate with my body saying "Stop what you're doing immediately or face the wrath of your soft tissue!" I'm pleased to say I seem to have read myself right, because the foot's not sore at all today. I iced it last night and took some ibuprofen before I went out on the field, just in case, but I seem to be pretty much mended. I'm really reassured and pleased by the good results.

I also turned in my written marshaling test yesterday. I completed the events I needed as a Marshal-in-Training over the summer and fall, got the recommendations I needed from marshals, and spent some time last week working on the written test. I have a lot of issues with the so-called 'current' edition of the marshal's test, from a documentation standpoint, but I don't need to burden the webernets with them at the moment--suffice it to say that I haven't gotten official results back, but I think I did as well as I could, felt good about my answers, and hope to hear the same from the KRM.

So, what's the spring look like? Well, a few different things:

• We won't be making it to Estrella this year, which is actually kind of a relief. Don't get me wrong, we wouldn't go to Estrella at all if we didn't have a good time, but between two full-time jobs with no PTO or sick time, upcoming changes at my job (I hope!), and a beater truck that will need major repairs or to be replaced at some point in the next six months, I think Estrella would be more stressful than fun this year.
• I'm running the rapier tournaments and melee scenarios at King's Hunt this year. I'm stoked--I've run tournaments and pre-existing melees before (Blood of Heroes and the like), but I've never orchestrated a whole weekend's worth of fencing before. I'm a combination of excited and nervous, but I know I have lots of people I can ask for help and advice, so I'm looking forward to the challenge.
• I plan to experiment a bit more with fighting garb this spring--and by "experiment" I mean, "make something it's not embarrassing to be seen in." I'm slowly re-envisioning my craft corner to be friendlier, more functional, and generally less of a PITA to use. Right now there's a major energy barrier to doing anything sewing-related, just because the space is so cramped, messy, and generally overburdened with stuff. No matter how long I wait, the boxes of fabric don't seem to be making more space for themselves (is this normal? I'd expected them to breed some square footage by now. Maybe I need to play some Barry White.) so I'm starting to spread out a little bit. Anyway, the garb plans include a new doublet or fighting dress, slipcovers for my sneakers, and potentially a new hood.

Anyway, I think that's about it for now. Weights, fish oil, practice, and sewing machines, here I come. Onward and upward!

Great Western War, 2010

Whoo, mama! It's been awhile since I posted. This summer's been crazy. However, I hope to be back and a bit more regular now that the autumn is getting underway. My job's a bit more stable (which is both yaaaaay and aaaaaaargh), my boyfriend's finally got one, and we're adjusting to the joy of suddenly being a two-income apartmenthold... clearly we need to have some kids, because Lord knows them dishes ain't doin' themselves.

Moving right along.

What better way to ring ZARM back in than with a post about my very favorite war, Great Western War! Every year I have an absolute blast at Great Western (thanks in large part to the great site, camping with the boyfriend's household, and the fact that it always falls on or around my birthday weekend), and this year was no exception.

I have to say, I was looking forward to this particular war with some trepidation--it was our first time leaving our cat alone overnight since the Great Vet Trips of 2010, I'd had a couple of bad days due to some difficult work news, we could only manage to head up to the war on Saturday and Sunday because of work and a total absence of PTO in my full-time job (Ever. Any. At all.), and we had enough to do before we left that we wouldn't be able to leave for the site until after dark. I was not looking forward to the war by 4 PM on Friday afternoon.

And yet.

War. Oh war. Something about war just perks me right up. Maybe it's because of the people. Or the turning off of cell phones and disconnecting from the internet for a couple of days. Maybe it's because I love blood and violence. Who can say?

War kicked ass pretty much continuously from Friday night to Sunday night, and a big part of that was the fencing. So let's get to it:

Saturday

Saturday was the White Scarf tourney in the morning and melees in the castle in the afternoon. In the White Scarf tourney, which was held last year as well, a White Scarf sponsors two unscarved fighters and they tag team in and out between rounds throughout the tournament--sort of like Pokemon, but more fun to watch.

Warmups were a little something different--Laertes shoved me over to Don Alex Baird and rather than a static drill warmup, he just had us throw blows back and forth without stopping at about 75% speed, very gentle and easygoing. For a minute or two I felt like my brain was lagging behind my body, but I got one good touch in on his arm and suddenly everything clicked into place. It got me into the fencing headspace really quickly, and whether that's a testament to the warmup or my own increased ability decreasing my mental lag, I can't say. Whichever the case (or if both is the case), it worked great.

The WS tourney was lots of fun. I lost both my fights, but I had some really nice and fun opponents. I can't recall the second one right now (beyond getting one-shotted just as I started thinking--well done, sir!), but the first fight was with a very nice gentleman who seemed pretty evenly matched with me. We had a couple of nice passes and he ended up taking me out, but I felt really good about the fight--very grounded and confident, like I, as the good book says, owned my space on the pavement.

I also got to hang out with some peeps I sort-of know and would like to know better, Shannon (whose SCA name is something like a very feminine sounding Christian... probably has an E on the end or some damn thing) and her husband Thomas, and Gerrick's (more spelling issues) ladyfriend Maureen, who's just a huge sweetheart and lots of fun. I also got to schmooze a bit with some of the Westies I see annually at GWW or know through Facebook, which was great. Staffan and I stole back to his pavilion (scandal!) to discuss some manuals we'd talked about online and I've now ordered a copy of an out-of-print book on basic foil and epee fencing that apparently has a lot of period-oid crossover. When life calms down a bit more, I'm excited to get into it.

In the afternoon, there were melees in the heavies' haybale castle, which were just a total blast. We busted the spears out and for the first time I really thought they affected play on the field--previously I'd only been in line-battle type melees where the spears were used, and, while I thought they were fun, the only effect they had on me were that I had to watch three people down on my left and right on the lines, rather than one or two. Being able to shoot over the haybale walls with the spears and get up on the second tier of bales to parry them really added a layer of intensity and thought to the melees which can often get lost in doorway battles. There was no standing in the third or fourth rank, waiting for enough people in front of you to die for you to get your turn--you had to actively check the air over your head (well, I did anyway) and around the edges of the door for a spear. Lots of fun, especially when I perched up on a haybale on the edge of a door and sniped across the line for incoming hands.

Another really nice touch about Saturday was that the White Scarf Tourney last year was really one of the first tournies at which Laertes' and I had worked together, so we had lots of check ins during the day comparing how I'm fighting this year (okay!) to how I fought last year (friggin' awful). He and Gerrick (whose name I should know how to spell by now, but I don't) were both very positive and reassuring and specific about where and how I'd improved, and kept reminding me to take note of myself now versus last year. I really appreciate the encouragement and support they've both provided, and genuinely consider the good environment to be a huge part of why I've improved as much as I have over this past year. The learning environment really is ideal for me (lots of talking, lots of snark, lots of support, and high expectations with no pressure to win or be the best! or make the other kids cry! or any of that Cobra Kai bullshit), and has done a lot to boost my confidence. Thanks, guys!

Sunday

First thing on Sunday morning was the Valkyrie Rose Tourney, hosted by the Ladies of the Rose in honor of the late Duchess Sir Kolfinna. There's been a Rose tourney the last couple of years at war (methinks), but the last two have been a bit fraught with emotion for everyone--the one last year took place around the same time as the memorial service, which was hard for a lot of people, and the one this year was in her honor.

In my first fight, I drew Don Eogan (more on tourney format below), who caught my rhythm and one-shotted me very quickly. A bit frustrated, I retreated to the loser's pool and was perked up by a couple of good passes with a Western White Scarf whose name I failed to catch. He tried to take a blow I landed on the side of his neck, basically parking my edge on the bottom of his gorget with no pressure or pull whatsoever, but I said it wasn't any good and we should redo it. He was an utter gentleman and tried really hard to take the shot, but finally said it was up to me to determine whether it was good or not and I insisted we refight it. We had a couple exchanges at full speed (for me, probably rather slow for him!) and I ended up taking him out with a lucky shot on the mask. I was really pleased with that, and glad I'd gotten such a chivalrous and fun opponent. My next fight was with a young lady from the West who was equally polite and cheerful, and who took me out in fairly short order... she made it to quarterfinals, though, so I didn't feel too bad about it. :)

The fighting was great, but the tourney itself was a bit of an ordeal--not for any emotional reasons on my part, but because it was a speed tourney (two groups of fighters pair off and fight, then sort into two lists, the winners and losers lists, which continue to fight until there's a winner of each, pretty much non-stop) and it was out in the gorram sun near a small haybale room. It had been getting warmer all war, and I imagine the high on Sunday was somewhere in the 90s. There were a lot of fighters and a speed tourney was absolutely the best way to get through the list in less than an hour, but we were sweltering out there and the waterbearing table was totally understaffed, so there was no water within five hundred feet of the tourney field.

(Actually, I think the one water table in sight was intended for the heavies who were doing scenarios in the castle... right next door to the rapier field... with their crossbows a-firing, and may I just say, LEARN TO AIM, KIDS, because dodging crossbow bolts while trying to fight or marshal in the heat after a few rounds of speed tourney? Not a lot of fun. Suggestions to the marshals that scenarios involving projectiles be rescheduled for a few minutes or fought without archery didn't seem to be accepted, which hopefully had a good reason, because from where I was standing it was a bit annoying. Moving right along.)

I ended up going over to the heavies' water table and asking to steal six or eight bottles from them for the tourney. They were really nice and said it was no problem as long as they got all the bottles back, so I took a double armful and parked them all on one haybale. People were really good about returning them, and half an hour later I had all the empties to return to the waterbearers. Hopefully that helped everyone--I could tell the water crew felt bad about not being able to provide for everyone, but I think they were technically promised to the heavies field and there were only two of them. They appreciated us returning the bottles, and the fighters appreciated the extra hydration, so I think it worked out well for everyone.

Anyway, not much else to say about fencing at GWW. I didn't do Blood of Heroes or melees that afternoon (and a good thing, because we had to break down later that night and I ended up throwing my back out, so it would have been a pain to have to deal with that on top of being all exhaustified), but I heard everyone had lots of fun. I sure did. :)

Back on the Horse; Notes on Fencing To and From the Ground.

Phew! It's been awhile!

I've had a busy few months, faithful ZARMers, culminating in a week of suck, a week of awesome!, and now another couple weeks of suck which seem to be receding. Forecast of slightly snarky, chance of showers up to Great Western War.

That's right, kids, it's that time again--time for Great Western War! Until today, I've only been looking towards the war as another Thing I Have To Do (not that I have to do it, but we already paid for it and it's one of those tricky things I know I'd want to do if I wasn't so bogged down with stuff). As of now, we're going, we're camping, and we'll be there Friday night and leave Sunday afternoonish. It's possible we'll have to bail early--among the pail of o nuuuuuuuuuu! the universe dumped on us this month was a heart problem with our two-year-old kitty, which has been hugely stressful, heartbreaking, and expensive. "Chance of showers" has pretty much summed up my entire emotional state for the last two weeks, and I'm just now catching my breath.

Anyway, one of the things I am looking forward to about the war is getting to fence my squirrely little heart out. I haven't been giving fencing as much love as it needs this summer, and it's showing in my game, but I'm still stoked to get out there and shake my groove thang for a couple days. I really want to give fencing more time in my schedule... I just need to figure out how to make said time! :)

The substance of this post is supposed to be all about fighting on the ground. Last Saturday at Caid Rapier Open, Laertes noticed I was having some issues fighting both against someone who's on the ground and when grounded myself, and that's some of what we worked on on Monday night at Altavia practice.

Basically, my problem is that I revert to some basic no-nos of fencing technique when I'm on the ground that I totally know better than to do when standing. For example, I tend to present a flat surface to my opponent by facing them head-on (in as much as my torso ever gets flat... bow chicka wow wow!). This could be solved by fencing like I'm standing up, which is to say with my right shoulder behind my left and offhand held farther forward and a bit higher than I'm usually accustomed. It's a fine line between protecting my head and protecting my stomach, but it's mostly a psychological line--anyone attacking me while I'm sitting down is going to have a substantially easier time hitting my head and chest than my stomach.

Problem number two, obviously, is the position of my offhand. It needs to be higher. Better. Stronger. Cheaper. Well, higher anyway. I have a natural aversion to raising it too high because it uses some underdeveloped muscles and tires my arm out more quickly (gosh, I wonder how I could fix that problem). It also feels safer to keep it low, because my parry up (ie, raising the blade of the dagger from a nine-o'clock to a twelve-o'clock position and returning it to nine) is much faster than my parry down (dropping the blade from nine to six and raising it back up). The parry down is also less controlled and uses more of my arm, so I hesitate to use it any more than I have to. More things to work on. Or, as Laertes said so very succinctly, "PARRY DRILLS."

Fighting a legged fighter from a standing position will take a similar attitude adjustment. I have a pretty good foot void that keeps my forward leg from getting taken most of the time, but I still tend to stand facing the legged opponent most of the time anyway. My main strategy fighting a legged person is to take crappy little potshots in the hope of getting a good hit on the hand, arm, or head, which doesn't really work for me too well. For some reason, fighting like I was fighting a, you know, standing fighter, hadn't occurred to me. You know, all that basic stuff about engagement? Line closing? Constraint? Dagger use? All that? Yeah, no, none of that. Potshots, though. Heeeeeey.

There's nothing really ground-breaking in this post, discovery-wise, just little bits of technique I feel like it's worth commemorating (in part because I feel silly for not realizing them before).

OMG Shoes

Hey all,

So I had a lovely time at Darach Pirate Tourney yesterday, and now I have a question. Rather, I'm soliciting for recommendations.

I need good fencing shoes.

Here's the thing. Nothing hard about good fencing shoes, right? Twenty dollars at Payless, right? Right. EXCEPT for this damn back of mine.

I've been wearing my New Balance sneakers (by far and away, the most back- and hip-friendly sneakers brand for me), and am often given shit for them. It annoys me to get commentary about my footwear, but I can't really complain because period appearance really is important to me, it's recommended in the marshallate handbook, and I definitely look down on those dudes at Estrella who walk onto the field in wolf furs and black jeans. I can't just turn my nose up at them while lacing up my sneakers... especially since I usually have to kneel down to lace up my sneakers, making it hard to look down on anything but my knees. :)

The reason it annoys me to get commentary about them, however, is because I've tried three different versions of more acceptable footwear on the field, and none of them work. They've all thrown my back or hips out within a few hours of wearing them. My hiking boots worked fine for awhile (and while still obviously out of period footwear, they look better than sneakers... and, for some reason, garnered me less criticism. Go figure), but when I tore the ligaments in my foot, they were too heavy to wear long-term, especially when running around.

I have fairly limited options for long-term footwear right now, and the more physical activity I'm doing, the more careful I have to be about them. I do need to get some more back musculature to keep everything in place, which will improve the problem somewhat, but this really is an ongoing complaint--not only are the sneakers more comfortable, they keep my chiropractic bill down and keep me walking and having a good time after I come off the field. Usually wearing the wrong shoes will end with me flat on my back waiting for my joints to realign properly. I'd really like to fence all day and still be able to run around afterwards with my friends, not have to pop some Advil and call it an evening early.

Sigh. It feels stupid to write about this, because I feel like I'm whining, and I really don't mean to. I just want to articulate myself and my complaints accurately, and I really want some advice.

It's been suggested that I make some leather or fabric covers for the sneakers, which I think is a great idea, but would probably take a lot of upkeep and trial and error before I got them right. I'm certainly willing to do it, but I'd like some other options, too. ...Not to mention a pattern. Anyone got a good pattern for spats or slipcovers for sneakers?

So, what do y'all like to wear on your feet when you fence? I've done a couple different kinds of period-oid boots, and they don't give me proper arch or heel support. The hiking boots worked, but won't do right now for reasons mentioned above. I've tried both the generic Dr. Scholls gel inserts and more expensive athletic inserts, and they add a couple hours of comfort, but still aren't ideal (at Lyondemere Anny two weeks ago, I tried them with a pair of thick socks in one of my pairs of period-y boots and while the fencing wasn't uncomfortable, I was flat on my back before the end of court).

So, what have I tried so far?

• Different boots (hiking boots, a shitty cheap pair from Payless, and a nice pair from Clarks)
• Inserts (generic and athletic)
• Socks (thick or thin socks can affect the fit of a non-lacing shoe, like a boot, so I try to mix it up and see what works best)
• Stretching before and after fencing (durrrrrrrrrrr)

What have I not tried so far?

• Custom-made boots (OMG money)
• Custom-made orthopedic inserts (can these be swapped between pairs of shoes, or are they specific to one pair? Can anyone tell me approximately how much they cost? Do they actually help, or are they no different from over-the counter athletic inserts?)
• Building up the muscles in my back and hips and transitioning over to nearly-barefoot footwear (slip-on ballet flats, jazz shoes, or what have you--also not terribly periodoid, but better looking from afar). I think this might be the best option just for my long-term health, but it doesn't solve the immediate need-to-fix-ugliness-right-now kind of problems.

I really need something that fits, well, a lot like a New Balance sneaker and doesn't weigh too much. I'd like to keep the cost down, but at the moment I'm more interested in collecting some useful vendor names and links so I can do some more research. Lay it on me, folks!