Since I came back from France, my fencing lessons have focused on the basics—mostly extension and lunge.  Extension is straightening your arm with your blade pointed toward the other fencer; most normal folks call that a ‘stab’, but stabbing is a violent motion, while a perfect extension wastes neither energy nor effort.  Your point floats out, and the other person happens to be in the way.

A lunge, on the other hand, is more or less exactly what it says on the tin: you start in the standard fencing ready stance (like a cat stance for those of you with more of a martial arts background), extend your arm, and spring forward, crossing a large distance in an eyeblink’s time.  A good lunge flows like water; mine tends to judder like boulders bouncing down a hill.

In my first lesson after returning to the States, my coach and I figured out what I was doing wrong (one of the many things I was doing wrong): I was getting in my own way.  Rather than kicking my front foot off the ground first, I was leaning forward and using that foot to spring forward, which telegraphed, slowed, and shortened my lunge.  Focusing on that one aspect of technique has really improved my lunge.  It’s faster now, smoother, longer.  I even stomp the floor less when my front foot lands.

Of course, now that I almost know how to lunge without making a fool out of myself, I lunge all the time during bouts—even when I shouldn’t.  Opponent is advancing?  Lunge!  Opponent is retreating?  Lunge!  Opponent is obviously baiting me into an attack?  Advance Lunge!

I should know better, but damn if that smooth feeling doesn’t tempt me into the next foolish move.  I have one cool new key, and I try it in every lock.  Time will fix this, though, and experience.  Learning a new technique, or a new aspect of old technique, is hard, but so much easier making that technique a part of you.  And losing because you’re excited by your own freedom is much better than losing because you can’t help stumbling over yourself.

Still, better to win.  But let’s take this one bout at a time.