After 10 hours on my feet directing epee fencers of all shapes, sizes and levels of attractiveness, my knees are small novas of pain. It is fascinating how much nicer fencers are when you’re a director. Especially the females. Today I was complimented on my scarf [mom-knitted!], my style [what!?], my pronunciation of Dumas [although I initially mispronounce Slutz due to a missing umlaut], and my glasses [wtf?]. That’s not including all the smoky looks and shy smiles as well. Fencer girls…I probably just had something on my face the whole time.
I ran into so many old fencers from my time on the team, it was great to visit with them and trade old war stories. The last remnants of people that I knew are graduating this year. I’m already long forgotten. Glory is fleeting. [Even though I didn’t provide much of it.]
Tomorrow is the team competition, which goes a bit faster and won’t provide me with as many temptations to let flirting with a pretty redhead from IU or a raven-haired blue-eyed ND fencer influence my decisions. Like I’d ever let that happen.