Introduction: Taking it to the Hilt! A Little About Me and My Very First Blog.

Hi there! And welcome to my very first blog. I've never been too savvy with these sorts of things, but in the past, many of my friends have pointed me to several different blogs they created. One common theme I noticed was the fact that many of my buds blog to tell the world about their hobbies, their travels and their experiences. In short, blogging is a cornucopia filled with all of life's little passions. It soon donned on me that (1) it was time to give myself a new creative outlet; (2) many of my friends find blogging to be a wonderfully cathartic experience; and (3) I recently fell into a new hobby that has quickly become a passion and one of the highlights of my week. So, I figured that it's time to give in to the blogging craze and throw my hat into the virtual ring.

And what exactly is this crazy new passion that I am so anxious to share with you? Judging by the title of my blog, I'm guessing that you already know. That's right: the elegant (and very painful) art of fencing! So, many of you are probably wondering what would compel an ordinary joe like me to engage in a hobby that entails lunging at your partner with a large, pointy stick, coming away with numerous bruises on my chest, icing my quadriceps in the shower...and then returning the following week for more. I mean, really...how the hell do you even call that a hobby?! What on earth is behind this madness, and is there any method to it?

Well, the answer is that there actually is a story behind this madness, and it's not just a random whim (to which I admit I am sometimes prone). If you follow me on my adventures, you'll also see that there is indeed a very precise method to fencing, which I'm still learning through blood, sweat, tears and many packs of ice.

So, let's start with what's behind this madness and how I got into this whole thing. You see, many moons ago during my former college life, I spent a summer as a starving stage actor in a tiny theater troupe puttering around Ontario, Canada, and what an eye-opening experience that was! We met many faces, made many fans, slept on stage floors together, ate lousy take-out food, traveled on barely any money...and had the times of our lives.

But I digress.

During our tour of dramatic duty, my buds and I had the distinct pleasure of performing in summer productions of "Henry V" and "Romeo & Juliet," each of which required about a month or so of stage combat training, most of which happened to encompass the art of fencing. Not only was I developing a love for all things written by the good Bard, but I was also enthralled whenever I heard our blades clashing together, mastered a new parry, or heard the great "swoosh" that my blade made every time I lunged forward and felt my quadriceps paying for it. There I was, a 21-year old, snot-nosed brat, discovering that fencing is a true art form and an exquisite sport, encompassing and developing each and every mental and physical aspect of one's being. I was hooked. I wanted to do this forever. Of course, as I was to find out many years later, real fencing is a far cry from stage fencing.

Flash forward nine years later and about two months ago. My former life is a distant but wonderful memory. There I was, now living in Westchester, New York, driving home one warm, sunny evening along Saw Mill River Road through Hawthorne. As I drove, I reflected on this past year, which has seen me through many experiences, both good and bad. I began to think that I've been wanting to re-visit some of my oldest hobbies. I needed something regular in my schedule that I could call my own. I needed something to unwind; something that could make me feel as good as I did when I was that 21-year old, snot-nosed brat (as opposed to the 30-year old, snot-nosed brat who writes this blog that you see before you).

Then I saw it.

Approaching on my right-hand side was a small office park. In the middle of all the I.T. companies, law offices and obscure educational institutions, I saw a small, glowing, barely noticeable sign over an entrance that would eventually lead me to a whole new world. It was a sign for the Fencing Academy of Westchester. I hit the brakes and pulled into the office park. As soon as I pulled up to the Academy, and even before I entered the building, I could already hear the distant sounds of blades clashing together, instructors yelling out directions and fencers whooping gleefully as they scored points. Immediately, all the wonderful memories from all those years ago came flooding back into my mind.

This was it. This was what I was looking for. The fencing gods had given me a second chance, and I had to take it. And, boy, was I about to pay for it.....

And as for the method to the madness? Follow me on my blog, and join me as I learn how to lunge, parry, disengage, draw and attack through lots of trials, countless errors, and myriad pulled muscles. A word of caution: don't take any of the stuff on my blog as actual fencing advice or instruction (believe me, I'm the last person you want as a fencing instructor). The purpose of this blog is simply to share with you the trials and tribulations of my quest to learn more about this wonderful, ancient and elegant art form, which I hope makes for some fun reading for all of you.

So, throw on your mask, pick up your foil, and en garde! Bienvenue a mon histoire.