Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. Part 2 (More Misconceptions)

So awhile back, I decided to start a list of new things to try. (see here if origins are of interest).
As part of the list, I signed up to a fencing school for 2 lessons. (as discussed here). My friend thought it sounded like fun, so she joined in and last Monday night we finally headed off.  At first we were all giggles at the outfits and the funny polka-like movements. Then the instructor started to hit me on the head. It didn’t actually hurt but the noise on the metal mask was loud and disconcerting and it seemed like it should hurt, so my brain somehow processed it that way.  I did not like it, Sam I am.
I also didn’t like hitting with the sword either. I am apparently not as violent and aggressive as my enjoyment of the target shooting implied. (misconceptions again). Let me tell you, shooting is way more fun!   Ironically, on paper, I thought I’d enjoy the fencing more,  so I was very surprised by the internal reactions. (I just noticed I wrote this at the start of September   “I hope I am as excited by the actual fencing as I am by the IDEA of fencing…”. Perhaps I put it out there and jinxed myself?)
I did however, become very good at parrying  (I sound like I know what I’m talking about). I paid close attention to the part of the lesson on how to block attacks. I am not co-ordinated in any way but I was determined not to be hit in the head anymore. Where I lacked skill, however, was once I’d blocked the attack, I’d  then neglect to launch an attack myself. I tended to just stand there preparing to avoid the next assault. I clearly will not be taking this sport to the Olympics.
However, once we got suited up in the electronic scoring gear, and my friend and I took to each other for real, I enjoyed it. We were both hesitant (there was a lot of jumping about, waving the sabre but not striking) and laughing. THAT part was fun! And I am still giggling at the thought of how we must have looked to the instructor. She actually had to tell us that we didn’t need to jump around quite as much as we were if we weren’t  going to attack each other. We’d jump around from the start line until we reach striking distance and then we’d stop and wave our swords around but not strike.

We have another lesson, but we’ve decided to just go back and play each other (do another introductory class, so to speak). It’s fun, but not a sport I’ll continue – unlike shooting, where our numbers are growing for the January rifle shooting day (three of us ladies will be doing rifles and pistols in the same day, 2 more ladies will be trying pistols for the first time…we’ll be a regular Ladies Gun Club at this rate, high tea at the range afterwards).
When I was fencing with my friend, I seriously had to control my impulse to start saying, as I moved towards her “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” I was too embarrassed to do it in front of the instructor (she might have hit me in the head for being an idiot).  Next lesson, I will…and I’ll be wearing my new shirt that turned up the day after the first lesson, but I don’t think the six fingered man need worry.

Torshlusspanik List grows:
1. Shooting (check)
2. Fencing (check)
3. Play croquet at Croquet Club
4. Laser skeet
5. Off road buggy driving

So next time we talk, I should hopefully have a croquet mallet in hand...(or a flamingo if the Red Queen has anything to do with it).

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