The Stars

"Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you'll land among the stars."

I once received a card from a very good friend at University, with this quotation on the front.  Over the last two years I have shot for the moon, but now it is the stars that I lie among; I was not destined to be The Eagle, landing on the surface of the moon.  The selection decisions for the London 2012 Olympic Games were made a few weeks ago.  Obviously I was disappointed not to make the Games, but not with the decision to omit me.  Unfortunately, my performances in the World Cup competitions over the last year, were not up to scratch, below the minimum level for selection and far below my own expectations, and thus I was not discussed in those meetings.  

Why? Is generally a good question - for me - why did I not perform as I was capable of in the qualification window? But also other questions come to mind: Do I believe that my results were reflective of my ability? No. Do I believe that my technique is deficient? No. Was I just unlucky? Also no. Why did it not come together? why? A question that no doubt, I will continue to ask myself for some time, and in good time I will do a review.  The truth is that I fully believe that I am a far better athlete than I have ever been before, with better technique and ability, and yet have done far worse over the course of a season than I have ever done before. It still doesn't make sense to me.  

Looking back, I see all the hard work I have put in.  The effort I have taken at every training session, every conditioning session, at sports psychology, by finding a nutritionist, by doing everything I could while supporting myself.  The highs, such as winning the Commonwealths and the too numerous lows that I have felt at recent World Cup events.  I do not regret any of it. I am not even sure that I would do too much differently.  I set out to give myself two years, and the best possible chance of making the Olympic Games - and that I did.  

In my first blog, entitled 'Setting out for Ithaca', I said that my journey to Ithaca would take two years.  But the truth is that I have not yet found my Ithaca.  Odysseus wandered for ten years on his return from the Trojan War, even glimpsing the shores of his homeland before being swept away by the winds, escaping from their prison.  My journey is not yet complete. My future is still very uncertain, with nothing lined up after the end of the school year at the beginning of July.  When I called the 2012 Olympics my Ithaca I was wrong. Ithaca is more than an event or a happening and I do not now think that you know when you will find it.  Ithaca is the culmination of a journey and at the same time the beginning of another.  Once Odysseus finally returned home, he had to rid his house of suitors, and then set out almost immediately on another expedition.  My journey so far has definitely been long, and full of adventure and instruction. 

I finish this blog post with the words of Constantine Cavafy's poem Ithaca, which I quoted in my first, and which now I more fully understand: 

 Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don't in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn't anything else to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn't deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you'll have understood what these Ithakas mean.

The Easter Break

This season is a strange one.  So far it hasn't really counted.  A strange thing to say about the Senior World Cup Circuit.  But this is a strange year.  The Olympics are now just one year away; Olympic qualifying starts in little more than two weeks.  So we find ourselves now in our Easter break, a time for reflection on what has gone well, or not so well over the first four competitions and therefore what to take forward and what to change in the next four, the second half of the season.  It is also a time to have a little break and to do some important training.  During the competition cycle it is hard to change things between events as you have so little time, no more than 10days between coming home and departing for the next event, however the month now allows the opportunity to do things differently. 

For my part I spent a week after Moscow refereeing and coaching at the Public Schools Fencing Championships with Brentwood School, an event the school won.  I started fencing at Brentwood and enjoy going back to help out, especially in this the most prestigious of school fencing competitions in which the pupils fence all three weapons, epee, foil and sabre over the course of three days.  The competition was held at Crystal Palace, the National Sports Centre and so I was able to do some training there in the gym and also on the piste later in the day with some other members of the Great Britain Senior Team.  After that I've had a break for a week to recharge my batteries.  One of the hardest things about the competition cycle is a lack of time for social events.  Away each weekend and training in the evenings it can be difficult to stay in touch with friends, who of course have their time off when its my 'time on'.  I believe it is necessary to try and maintain a balance so that you do not get all-consumed by fencing, at which point you'll start over-thinking things and make it more difficult for yourself.  The little time off has also considerably helped my body, allowing me a little period of rest to get over some little niggles I had been carrying. 

That time off all ended last Wednesday when I made my comeback at a brutal circuits class I walked into by accident, although admittedly it felt good to be back.  And now I'm off to Spain for 10days for a training camp hosted by the Spanish national team.  I'm really looking forward to it.  Getting away and training in a different environment helps liven things up and the extra depth in sparring is going to be really beneficial. 

After I get back from Spain I have 7 days at home to prepare for the Athens World Cup.

The venue: Athens Olympic Park. My destination: London 2012.

Moscow

Я люблю Москву

Last weekend, we, the GB Men's Senior Sabre team were in Moscow.  Warned of temperatures as low as -15 degrees Centigrade we'd all packed pretty heavily.  As it was, keeping cool was more of an issue than keeping warm! We were lucky in that it was never really below -5 outside, despite the 6ft of snow piled up next to the road and the fact it snowed each day we were there, but everywhere you went inside the heating was on full blast, even our room which had no obvious radiator or alternative heat source. So while we were able to deal with the cold, the heat, Moscow's extortionate prices (Moscow is the second most expensive city in the world after Tokyo), even the basic accomodation provided in our hotel, one thing near impossible to circumnavigate was Moscow's traffic.  I do not know how the city functions! It appears as though Moscovites have no regard for road traffic laws, traffic lights and junctions.  It took us 2 hours to get from the airport to the hotel, around 45 minutes to get the venue each morning and around 1 hour 45 minutes to get back - we later discoverd it was a distance of four metro stops, or around 5km.  Even going to bed in our room on the 25th floor we were cerenaded by the dulcit tones of car horns and the occasional 'smash' as a couple of vehicles collided.  

The venue: more like a Bond villan's hide-out than arena

The hotel itself did the job and little else.  Most confusingly we were due to stay in the Hotel Aquarium, or so the Russian provided details told us, however the bus dropped us at the Hotel Astrus, and that is where we stayed, the only indication that this might be the same hotel being on a pen at the alternative desk we had to use to check in.  I have included a couple of pictures from the hotel below so that, in case you had thought otherwise, you can see the glamourous lives we international athletes live. 

The competition itself did not go quite to plan.  I did not fence particularly well during the individual event and contrived to win no hits in the middle 4m of the piste and also go behind in each fight.  Unfortunately my team mates did not do too much better than me and no-one made the business end of the competition, the last 64 on the second day.  The results haven't been what we would have wanted this season so far, but I am sure we can redress this in the second half of the season, when it counts towards Olympic Qualification.  We therefore had a day off on the Saturday before the team event and for once did a little sightseeing.  We took the Metro down to Red Square where we all posed in front of St Basel's Cathedral, saw the Kremlin, Lenin's Mausoleum and also ventured into GUM - perhaps the most expensive and beautiful shopping centre I've ever been in.  We also featured in some sort of video saying the words Я люблю Москву (I love Moscow). 

Great Britain have not entered a Men's Sabre Team into an event for a year, despite it being an Olympic discipline, because of funding issues.  So with no ranking, but determined to do well Alex O'Connell, Neil Hutchison, James Honeybone and I took to the piste on the Sunday.  We fenced a tricky Japanese team in the last 32, overcame the differnce in seeding, hit them hard at the start, opened up a big lead and comfortably closed out the match.  In the last 16 we fenced a German side that included the World Number 1, and one which had come second at the last two World Cups, and despite another strong start the Germans were able to pull away at the end.  China, the 5th seeds, were our opponents in the first play off match, a team which included the 2008 Olympic Champion.  Again we started the match very strongly and were 30-30 before the Chinese's greater experience began to show and they pulled away to win 45-35.  After that match we had to pick ourselves up quickly to fence Iran.  This time there was a very different pressure on us, we felt we had to win and perhaps constricted by this got embroiled in a close match and survived a late Iranian comeback to win 45-44.  This led to a clash with perennial opponents Poland.  Unfortunately on the day Poland had a little too much for us and we lost 45-36 ending up 14th. A very respectable position considering we started the day as bottom seeds and certainly something we will be looking to build on in the future.  

I spent most of the team day as the reserve, subbing on from the bench, which means that I did not get to fence as much as I'd have liked to.  Subbing on is always difficult as generally you are trying to turn around a match, and I came on to fence Limbach (World Number 1), Hartung (former Cadet and Junior World Champion), Zhong (Olympic Champion) and Koniusz (European Olympic Qualifier winner and top 25 fencer) - certainly not easy opponents.  Now I need to get myself in the position where I'll be starting these matches.  

Breakfast!

Our room on the 25th Floor

Tickets

Only 500 days to go until the London Olympic Games get under way.  I can remember the moment London were awarded the Games in 2005 as if it were yesterday.  Time has flown past and the next 400 days we have left, the qualifying period, are going to go even faster.  

I thought I would leave a note here to say that should I make it to the London Games, I will be competing in the Men's Sabre (FE003) at the Excel Centre and possibly also the Men's Sabre Team (FE013), which in my opinion will be the most entertaining event to watch. I've copied the link to the Olympic fencing programme below, which includes ticket prices.  Right now our top fencer is Richard Kruse in the Men's Foil (FE007), and our Men's Foil Team (FE017) are regarded as our best medal prospect, but I'd quite like to steal their thunder there! You have 6 weeks to decide what you want, I'm hoping that I won't be needing my tickets! 

http://media.ticketmaster.com/en-gb/img/sys/tournament/london2012/oly-fencing.pdf

Inches

Life's this game of inches - Al Pacino (Any Given Sunday)

One year before Varsity, the captain of the Cambridge team made us watch the inspirational American Football film Any Given Sunday.  This perhaps would rank as a generic sports film if it weren't for Al Pacino's speech, as Coach Tony D'Amato, to his team at half time in the play-off final.  The speech has been widely reused in various contexts but usually, to my knowledge, by sports teams, like a Rocky montage, to inspire them before a big match such as Varsity.  After last weekend, the words resonate with me. 

Pacino's character describes life and football as a game of inches: because the margin of error is so small, I mean one half step too late or too early and you don't quite make it.  One half second too slow or too quick and you don't quite catch it before concluding that the inches we need are all around us.  

  

Last weekend, I fenced in the Budapest Grand Prix, traditionally always the hardest of the World Cup events on the calendar.  Furthermore, I fenced well with good intensity winning three poule fights of six, narrowly losing two.  My first fight was against the Frenchman Sanson, an experienced fencer, formally in the World Top-16 and who also won Gold at the Beijing Olympics in the Men's Sabre team event; I beat him comfortably. Getting off to a positive start really helped me and gave me a boost in confidence for the rest of the poule.   I received a bye into the last 96 where I met the Brazilian Agresta, who lives and trains in Italy.  Despite being 8-4 up at the break, I slumped to 13-10 down, before recovering to lead 14-13 and then fall at the final hurdle 15-14.  I was gutted, to come so close and not finish the job was devastating.  Reaching the last 64 and winning my first world cup points of the year was my primary target before reappraising on the second day.  To not achieve this was disappointing.  It also hurt a lot more than the disaster I had in Italy a couple of weeks ago. 

The truth is on that final hit I was probably one half step too late in stepping back and one half step too fast in riposting.  But the fight was not won and lost solely on the one hit but shortly after the break when he won a series of hits, that perhaps I should have stopped sooner.  However, such soul-searching cannot help me now, I must take the positives that I fenced an awful lot better than I have done all season and a couple of things are starting to 'click'.  I also know that Olympic qualifying begins in April and so this competition does not really count.  What is clear is that these competitions are harder than ever as we enter the Olympic qualification cycle and that the margins between us competitors are so small.  Probably three or four times as many fights are won 5-4 as 5-1 and 5-0.  On any given day you have to fence to your best and hope that you make use of the inches around you, and the truth is that the fencers in the last 64 are not that much better but rather they made use of those inches. 

In training this week and next, as we prepare for the Moscow World Cup and the end of the first half of our season I'll be looking for those inches because in the words of Pacino: when we add up all those inches its going to make the difference between winning and losing...

 

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. 

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.  

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.  

Sporting Heroes

In the poems of Homer a hero was a warrior chieftain of special strength, courage or ability.  Today the greats of sport walk among their peers as Homeric heroes, as godlike beings, seemingly unbeatable, and their very greatness transcends, not just their sport, not just sport, but the world as a whole; great sportsmen and athletes like, Jesse Owens, Muhammad Ali, Michael Johnson, Usain Bolt and Roger Federer. These are those who inspire the youth and through their very presence and their own immense achievements leave their sports and the events they touch, a real and lasting legacy. 

For my part, I remember the first time I saw elite men's sabre fencing.  It was at Brentwood School, and I must have been about nine years old.  James Williams, who coached my Prep School class, an Olympian in Barcelona, Atlanta and Sydney, showed us a video of him fencing.  I remember the speed, the aggression, the atmosphere and the intensity.  I was just getting in to fencing at the time and I thought, 'I would like to do that', from then on I was hooked. 

However, it is perhaps sporting greats in other disciplines that inspire me most.  It may sound almost cliched, if that shows the level of unanimous respect these athletes command, but three of my sporting heroes are Redgrave (Sports Personality of the Year 2000), Pinsent (2nd Sports Personality of the Year 2004) and Hoy (Sports Personality of the Year 2008).  Three great British men, who between them have won 13 Olympic Gold Medals and whose career achievements truly are, astounding.  

Simon Barnes, my favourite sportswriter, waxes lyrical about Redgrave in his book 'The Meaning of Sport'.  He says, 'Redgrave is not only a person. Redgrave is also a quality...Redgrave is the ability to go beyond yourself. It is the ability to go the full distance, Johnson-like and more. It is the ability to commit day after day, to the one goal of winning. It is the ability to achieve the ultimate goal: and to be unsatisfied. To want more. To demand more, to seek more and to get more.'    

Barnes was also in Athens and saw Pinsent win his fourth consecutive Olympic Gold.  He describes Pinsent's journey that Olympiad as an echo of the Odyssey, the story of a ship cursed by the gods.  Pinsent's boat had been a pair, which won everything until inexplicably coming fourth at the 2003 World Championships.  The boat was made into a four, which didn't work.  A man was dropped.  Another injured, and eight weeks before the Games, Alex Partridge suffered a collapsed lung and dropped out.  The crew had just seven weeks to prepare as opposed to four years.  The race was neck and neck and was won only in the last ten strokes.  Won by 0.08 seconds.  In the words of Barnes, 'Pinsent took the crew over the line by means of a massive outpouring of the self.  He refused to accept the plain and obvious fact of defeat and remade reality in front of us'.  Pinsent seized the time to succeed and came through, giving everything to the effort.  Pinsent bared his soul and his emotions overcame the body he had moulded as a machine through his years of rowing.  

And then, Chris Hoy, the fastest man over 1000m, winning Olympic Gold in Athens.  He had to deal with adversity a different way.  His event was dropped from the programme in Beijing, forcing him to look elsewhere to satisfy his insatiable hunger for success.  He returned from Beijing with three gold medals.  

These men, heroes to me, perhaps not so much because of their success but because of the quality that Simon Barnes describes as 'Redgrave' alive in them.  The ability to bend events to their will, and the ability to triumph in the battle of wills.  Barnes describes 'Redgrave' as 'not the quintessence of sport, but the quintessence of victory'.

I remember watching BBC Sports Personality of the Year at Christmas and feeling inspired. I felt that I wanted to win, I wanted to prove myself, I wanted to give reign to the 'Redgrave' in me. At the weekend I discovered that I have been nominated for Essex Sports Personality of the Year.  It was a complete surprise and was very touching. I'd like to think that perhaps I too could be a role model for young people finding their way into sport just as Redgrave, Pinsent and Hoy and perhaps one day might be able to join that pantheon of champions.   

On a different note, I would like to mention the news that Beazley, the specialist Lloyd's insurer, have entered into a five year partnership with British Fencing, as principal sponsor.  More details can be found at http://www.beazleybritishfencing.com/   This is great news for the sport in this country and will hopefully make a massive difference, and I just wanted to thank Beazley for their investment in our dreams.