Wednesday 23 February 2011

An education

Losing is learning. Winning is normal.

Lately I've been doing a lot of learning.  Results haven't gone quite as anticipated and it has been more than a little disappointing.  It's even been difficult to write this blog post; I've been quite busy since I got back from Venice on Saturday evening but I've also been putting off writing this. Apologies, it might be a little raw.

Ever heard of the phrase 'train hard, win easy'? Well I've been training hard but am waiting for the winning.  This weekend I was feeling good: relaxed, confident and ready to go.  However, the word I would use to describe the start of my poule is 'brutal'. I got smashed.  No other way to describe it. I was moving up and down well but for some reason couldn't hit my opponent - kind of important to do that really.  I was cut after the poule.  I immediately knew that I would be cut, despite the third wave still to come and went outside to vent some frustration, at myself more than anything else.  Behind the venue was a reasonable size stream with a footbridge going across.  To release my frustration I decided instead of hitting anything, which no doubt I would later come to regret, to pick up a stick and hurl it into the water.  I missed.  Even more frustrated I picked up a stone instead; I missed again.  I feel that that anecdote sums up my day better than anything else. 

So where to go now? One or even two competitions does not change anything. The truth I know inside is that I am better than that. I am not going to give up as soon as the going has got tough.  At the weekend's competition 100 fencers didn't make the last 64 on the second day, including all of my British teammates.  Its a tough environment where the margins are so small, just a couple of nanoseconds either way.  I also know I have improved a lot over the off season, have changed a few aspects of my technique and that it will take time for it all to gel and the results to become clear.  In the mean time, just as a rider who has fallen off their horse, the show must go on, the horse must be remounted and training continued.  Now I have to work harder than ever and make sure that just as last time, I give myself the best possible chance of succeeding, this time in Budapest. 

Now I'm learning. Soon, I'll be winning. 

Tuesday 8 February 2011

In Bulgaria

'When you are at your deepest, there is always good luck on the roads in Bulgaria'.  

An old proverb (perhaps) that we were told two years ago now, somewhere on the road between Sofia and Plovdiv. 

Two years ago, after the conclusion of the Grand Prix event in Plovdiv, the British team, a couple of Germans, including world number one Nicholas Limbach, the Belgian team and a couple of Poles were squeezed onto a rather old bus to make the journey to the airport in Sofia, approximately a two hour drive.  The problem was in this instance that the bus was not very reliable and the driver did not speak a word of any language other than Bulgarian. The first half hour as we navigated out of the city and onto the motorway was fine, but then the bus began to break down with increasing regularity and every couple of kilometers we were cruising onto the hard shoulder with the engine having cut out.  The bus consumed all the available water the passengers possessed and a roll of duck tape that the Belgian fencer had but the problems still continued.  Soon we managed to stop at a petrol station, where driver fed the engine a couple of litres of coolant and we discovered that the nearest taxi station was approximately 50-60km away.  After another couple of stops it became apparent that making our flight was in real jeopardy as the bus pulled into a rest stop at the roadside.  It was at this point that, led by the German coach, we started making alternative travel arrangements.  The Poles managed to jump into a lorry cab, one of them spoke Russian, and the British managed to fit into two cars, one a taxi with only one passenger heading to a flat in Sofia and thereafter the airport, and the other a family who had been visiting their son and were driving near to Sofia.  Somehow, crammed into the back of these cars, with our fencing bags on our laps we made it to the airport in time to make our flight and we were told the above proverb, whatever it may mean!

This season our first tournament was in the town of Plovdiv, somewhere in central Bulgaria, and fortunately our transportation was much more reliable.  The same German coach commented last year that Plovdiv was 'the best Grand Prix', something we initially laughed at but perhaps have come to agree with.  The venue is spacious and light, the hotel is good and only a 200m walk, including facilities such as a swimming pool (not that I've ever used it) and everything you might need is close by including Happy.  Happy is a restaurant chain I have only found in Bulgaria.  The waitresses uniforms are 'interesting' and the menus of the picture variety. Culinary delights include Grandma's Meatballs, and Happy Bits with processed cheese.  Having said that the food all tastes fine and everything is quite cheap, although rather like a Wagamamas the food seems to arrive when its ready, so salad arrives with potatoes and once you have finished, the meat comes, or as happened to one of my teammates his starter arrived after his main-course.

In the competition I sadly did not enjoy the same good luck as we might have found on the road.  My poule was tough, described by a couple of my teammates as the 'poule of death' and unfortunately I was only able to win one fight and was thus eliminated before the direct elimination.  Having said that, there are no easy fights at this level and in my mind no poule that is harder than another; the simple fact is you must compete for each point with the same effort and the fights are there to be won.  Being critical I probably rushed a little and was a little nervous, however in parts I fenced very well.  Despite the disappointment of not performing how I expected I would, the competition was still good and certainly encouraging for the next World Cup event in Italy, in two weeks time.  There I hope to hit top form after another couple of weeks training and start achieving the goals I have set myself this year, setting up my bid to compete in London, next year.  

Wednesday 2 February 2011

Fertig...los!

Hallo! Apologies for the slight delay since my last post.  The reason is simple, I've been hard at work, training.  My teammate, Alex O'Connell, and I have just spent the last week, living and training in Dormagen, Germany with the German national team.


We arrived on the Sunday, with the words of a couple of my friends still ringing in my ears, 'make sure you beat the Germans' (thanks Jamie and Dave) but did not start training until the Monday.  That was fortunate as although Dusseldorf is only 20 minutes from Dormagen by car, we were taking the train.  Dormagen is about 45 minutes from Dusseldorf Flughafen by slow train, in theory.  However, Deutsche Bahn told us to take the S11 to Koln-Mulheim before changing trains there and getting the slow one from there to Dormagen - in effect going from 12 on a clock to 10 clockwise and at this point in time we had not seen a map.  German efficiency = urban legend.  Needless to say, three and a half hours later, after delayed trains, and a fine for travelling in the Koln area without a valid ticket (we had the ones required for the Dusseldorf area), Deutsche Bahn were not our favourite firm and we were relieved to finally make it to Dormagen. 


Monday morning involved physisch mit Stefan who you can see in this YouTube clip doing some speed work with Jessica Ennis and Jermain Defoe at an Adidas launch. Monday evening involved a team event at the end of the session.  England vs Germany.  There were only two English men though, so we borrowed one of the Germans, Nicolas Limbach, World Number 1.  With the murmurings of Jamie and Dave in my mind, the pressure was on, Alex and I more than held our own and England had won, it was like 1966 all over again, only it was training.  A good first day set the tone for the rest of the week.  


The week concluded with a competition nearby(c.150km) in Koblenz.  We managed to get a lift there with the other fencers in one of the club buses.  The competition was a mixed bag for me, I did not fence too badly but neither did I fence too well and the day ended earlier than I would have liked.  However the whole experience was an enjoyable one and I feel like I have learned a lot from my time in Germany.


In German, the phrase fertig...los, means 'ready...fence', in other words it is what the referee says to commence the hit.  It does have another meaning though, literally, 'ready to go'.  I'm ready to go now, and we are off to Bulgaria on the 0600 flight on Friday morning for the first World Cup event of the season.  Fingers crossed that all my winter training will aid a positive result and solid start to the season.