"GO!"- Speed, Coordination and Improving Reflexes Through Observation and the Circle of Death

In pursuing my goal of becoming the consummate swordsman, I've been beaten, bruised, poked, stabbed, chided and shown up by ten-year olds who could rival Zorro himself.  Yet, I happily return for more, as with each new injury and bout of humiliation I slowly improve.  However, during my latest round of self-punishment in the name of entertaining my adoring readers, I found out that just as much technique can be learned through simple observation. 

And believe me, this was a welcome alternative to my usual method of education, i.e. getting the snot royally kicked out of me. 

During my latest lesson, I arrived at the Academy to find my instructor in the middle of teaching little Lucy, the diminutive fencer who forced me to learn Parry Number 8 very quickly two blog entries ago.  She waved excitedly and yelled, "Hiiiiii, Otto!"  I approached them, shook hands with my instructor and patted Lucy on the head. "Hey, Lucy," I said.  "What are you learning today?"

"I'm learning the disengage," she smiled widely.  "Lucy," my instructor said, "show Otto what you can do."  My instructor slowly approached Lucy with her foil.  Lucy smoothly ducked her little foil under my instructor's and landed a hit below her ribs, letting out a bray of delight as my instructor congratulated her on a job well done. 

"Wow," I exclaimed.  "You learned that in one lesson?" 

"Yesh," Lucy nodded, speaking with a slight lisp due to her little gap-toothed smile. 

"Lucy and I will be a few more minutes," my instructor said.  I told them that it was no problem and that I would use the time to stretch.  As they went about the remainder of their lesson, I walked to the sidelines, dropped my gym bag and began stretching out my legs, loosening my wrists and warming up with a few lunges, all while taking in that wonderful sound of sabres, foils and rapiers clanging and clashing about the room.

As I sat on the floor feeling my hamstrings elongate and relax, my eye caught a group of seven or eight students at the other end of the room standing in a circle, each boy and girl about a half foot from each other, and all of them dressed in the freshly starched whites of the Academy's competition team.  They all held their foils upside down, with the tips touching the floor.  In the center of the circle stood one of the other instructors, a slim, striking blonde who had her hands clasped behind her statuesque back.  It seemed as if the students were waiting for a signal from her.  She looked around, making sure that all eyes were focused on her.  Then....

"GO," she yelled out.

Before she even finished her command, there was a uniform shuffling of feet.  Like a synchronized dance, the circle suddenly shifted, each student letting go of his or her own foil and immediately lunging to the left, reaching for the other person's foil and grabbing it before it could move or fall to the ground.  Round and round they went, increasing their speed with each command from their instructor.  One of the boys didn't make it in time, and the foil for which he was reaching clattered to the ground.  "You're out, Robby," the instructor quipped.  Robby cursed quietly and moped over to the sidelines.

As the drill continued, the instructor increased the frequency and speed with which she yelled, "GO," causing her students to start huffing and straining as they lunged.  More of them fumbled and were sent  grumbling to the sidelines.  "Damn," one girl yelled as she practically dived for a foil and missed.  "Crap," a boy stammered as his heel slipped due to a lunge that was too fast and too narrow.  Other expletives not suitable for this blog were uttered as more students were sent out of the circle.

"Speed," the instructor yelled at her students.  "Speed and coordination are the keys!  Focus on the handle of the foil and aim your hand towards it.  Don't hesitate, otherwise you'll be dead, just like in a match."

Soon, I began to grasp the purpose of this seemingly exhausting exercise: not only was it meant to improve a fencer's reflexes, but it also forced each student to adjust his or her stance and footwork to increase speed and enable him or her to make it to the next foil while under pressure.  I watched as the circle was narrowed down to four remaining fencers.  Each of them slightly widened their stances, lunged with larger strides and stretched out their sword hands in an effort to keep their foils from falling to the ground. 

Eventually, two combatants were left to duke it out for the title of Top Fencer: a very petite brunette; and a taller, lanky-looking boy.  They stood across from each other, their bodies tensed, perspiration pouring from their foreheads, their eyes darting from their instructor to each other.  All of the other students sat on the edges of their seats in suspense, as did I.  You could practically cut through the anticipation with a sabre.  Both of them were poised to lunge forward with catlike refle-

"GO!"

They both darted forward at each other's foils in picture-perfect lunges, their front legs smoothly stepping out and landing- heels first, then toes- with impeccable form.  The girl ably snatched up the boy's foil and whirled it around into a perfect en garde position.  The boy stretched out his arm for the girl's foil, but he overestimated his reach and his aim.  His hand shot over the top of the foil's handle, allowing it to clatter onto the floor and causing the boy to shake his head in defeat.  His classmates let out a collective, "Ohhhhhh!"

Afterwards, the brunette and the boy shook hands, and everyone was congratulated by the instructor on a job well done before heading off to their respective fencing lanes for some sparring.  My instructor, having sent Lucy toddling off to her mother, strode up beside me.  "You want to try that game," she asked. 

"I don't know," I answered.  "I don't think I'm fast enough."

"You will be if you practice it," my instructor said.  "Come to another one of the adult classes and try it with them.  It's a great warm-up and does wonders for your form and reflexes."  I agreed that this sounded like a great idea.  "Just out of curiosity," I asked, "which one of the adults has made it to the end of the Circle of Death over there?"

"So far, Monty has been unbeatable."

Of course....