Sep. 29th, 2012

deird1: Maximus the horse, holding a sword in his mouth threateningly (Maximus sword)
A few weeks ago, I was talking to the boyfriend about exactly how I once managed to slice my parents' lounge room light in half, and suddenly remembered that I used to do fencing! And I loved it!

Promptly got on the internet and looked up fencing classes - and lo and behold, one was starting that Saturday. Which is how I ended up doing Beginners Fencing with a whole lot of twelve year olds, one kindergartener, and another adult. (I have since discovered that I am old: at the age of thirty, I now expect all these kids to outclass me within a few weeks, even though I've done fencing before and they haven't. Because I'm all ancient and my muscles creak when I bend.)


It's fun! Difficult, but fun. And even though so far we've done little more than advance and retreat up and down the room, I'm already calculating exactly how much equipment I should buy to do competition bouts...


One equipment piece that I'd forgotten about was the chest protector. Otherwise known as a giant plastic bra that women have to wear so that their boobs don't get horribly injured. I have a love/hate relationship with these things. On the one hand, I suddenly have a really impressive bust. On the other, I have such an impressive bust that I can no longer put my arms together.


Yay for fencing! And woo!

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deird1: Fred looking pretty and thoughful (Default)
deird1

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