I had planned some long blogging posts but on Tuesday night, I went fencing, I did my training with Mr. Ho and then trained some more. Instead of deciding that having an arm shaking so badly I couldn't hold a blade steady was a sign of over exhausted muscles and should indicate I might want to STOP, I thought it would be an interesting time to find out how much more I could fence. Beth, as it turns out, contains no bionic parts, nor has special glowing powers that enable her to fight endlessly. Also, I found that “pushing yourself to the breaking point” isn’t necessarily a metaphor as after another 40 minutes of fencing an unbelievably painful ripping sensation behind my right shoulder blade caused me to drop my sword.
Of course, being me, I decided that I would only now fence only ONE MORE BOUT before stopping. Because, hey, how often am I going to find out how well I can fencing once I have severly pulled and damaged some shoulder muscles. I really hope you aren’t getting that slightly sick and horrified look on your face both William and my father did when I tried to explain the reasons I kept fencing. Anyway, so you don’t have to replicate the experience, you CAN continue to hold a sword if you brace your elbow against your body so the weight doesn’t travel up to the shoulder. But, your chances of getting another point are about as good as an 8 year olds as while you MIGHT be able to extend your arm, having anyone hit your sword laterally will likely cause it to fall out of your hand while you try to stop from screaming.
So, by Tuesday night I had lost function of most of my upper right side including my arm, plus it had swollen alarmingly. Thanks to Codine, opiates and few other pharmaceutical friends as well as lots of bed rest, and my super-human recuperative powers I can use my right arm again (sparingly). I AM planning on going fencing on Friday night, assuming I can tape a sword to my arm. I think I saw them do this on “The Princess Bride” when a person needs to fence after coming back from the dead (or was it that you just keep muttering “you killed my father, prepare to die”?). Linda has different ideas. She feels that besides I coach I need a “keeper”, someone who lurks in the shadows with a tranquilizer gun for when I am about to do something exceeding stupid to myself. She urges all interested parties to apply immediately, before I am fully ambulatory.