Tag: Fencing Injuries

Fencing While Injured and/or Old

Wound Man from the Feldtbuch der Wundartzney of Hans von Gersdorff (Strasburg, 1519)

In two separate conversations in the last twenty-four hours the topic of martial arts, combat sports, and injury has come up. My spouse’s uncle, yesterday, remarked that when he was a teen studying TKD they viewed the semi-ambulatory middle-aged coaches as old men—now much, much older, he realizes that they were not old really, but battered and damaged from hard-training and fighting. This morning, I had a chat with a friend and college, Matt L., in California, about avoiding the very thing my uncle in law noted—early decrepitude thanks to martial arts. As someone navigating that very issue I have some perspective, and some advice for those not yet there about how to avoid, or at least forestall, the physical consequences of our training.

This is a post I’ve started a number of times, then put aside. It’s not that I don’t know what to write, but that there is so much to say, and, so little that most people will find motivating. I was no different, so if this sounds judgmental, know that I’m including myself in the censure. When I was in my teens and twenties, I could do things, and so, I did. I fought in a collegiate tournament on a sprained ankle that I taped up; I didn’t wait long enough to start training again after a slight tear in the meniscus of my right knee or years later after a chance stab wound to the same knee, one that nearly severed the LCL; I didn’t take a break, but taped and armored up my torso after a missed parry meant two cracked ribs. These were not smart choices, and, they’re choices that in one way or another I have to manage now.

Injury & Recovery

If you are injured, be it while fencing or in some other activity, take-a-break. Let yourself heal. This can be especially challenging when one is an active competitor, because the fear of losing ground, of any break affecting one’s standings, rank, or success is strong. Add to that the desire not to miss favorite events and it’s a double whammy.

You have time, use it. One “can” fence on injured joints or strained muscles, but one shouldn’t. I’ve likely stateed this on this site before, but we pay for all the fun of our teens and twenties in our forties and fifties, so, the better you manage yourself when younger, the less you’ll suffer when you’re older.

A good coach, by the way, will not only support a break to heal, but actively encourage or even order it. I’ve worked with ones who said tough it out, and, a few who told me to stop and take a break. Maitre Delmar Calvert, for example, when tennis elbow started plaguing my right arm again, told me to take a break and go to PT. Maitre Handleman just a few years ago told me and one other grey-bearded chap to take more breaks and to use walking steps during a weekend coaching seminar. This is good, proper coaching, and, good advice.

As a younger person, I fought competitively for several years in ITF conference TKD, and, at a time where the pads we had were good, but only so much. A smaller glove could easily reach through headgear; the footpads we wore had no sole, so a side-kick landed as it would in earnest; and we had no chest protection. By the age of 13 or 14 I’d had two ribs and my nose broken, never mind the damage I inflicted on people the same way. When a fellow student, a bit over-zealous, broke my nose in the practice right before a tournament, my coach—who was excellent—was more worried about my mother freaking out than the fact I’d been injured. It’s fighting, and well, we get hurt sometimes—it’s “normal.” He and another coach set my nose (NOT fun), told me to go and change out of my dobak (which was covered in blood), and to keep the paper-towel under the nostril inside my lip there until it stopped bleeding (a great way to stop a bloody nose by the way).

Muhammad Ali, a hero of mine since childhood, was “the Greatest,” but paid dearly for repeated punches to the head

We accept injury as normal, but should we? Would it not be better to prevent it? I’m not sure I have a great answer or solution. On the one hand, I’m grateful for having learned early how much punching and getting punched can hurt—it no doubt helped me avoid trouble I was likely to be in otherwise. On the other hand, as a parent, well, I don’t like seeing any children hurt, especially when it isn’t necessary. My solution has been to focus on the mental side of all this, to help students cultivate mental toughness, confidence, calm, and wisdom to avoid trouble if at all possible.

Time & Repetitive Movement

Even if you are lucky to escape injury, years and years of repetitive actions take a toll on us. At 45, I started having an odd pain in my right leg and so saw my doctor. She ordered x-rays and other tests, and turns out my right hip was in the early stages of arthritis. I thought that was crazy; “I’m only 45!” was my reaction, but she then reminded me that I had been lunging on that same leg since I was 16. How many thousands and thousands of times had I likely lunged? Never mind other traumas to that leg.

It was the same with my elbows—Radaellian sabre mechanics use the elbow as axis, and even my Olympic training retained vestiges of this approach to cutting. I have tennis elbow in both arms, ironically because in 2001 I was in a serious car accident that all but destroyed my right shoulder, and so I started training as a leftie.

Neither of these issues arose from anything improper or stupid—they are the result of activity and repetition. While some degree inevitable, depending on one’s genetics and training, there is a lot we can prevent by taking simple steps. For example, had I rested my elbows longer; had I continued my PT exercises; had I taken better care of myself I wouldn’t be in as bad a condition as I am. I’ve been slightly wiser with my hip, though it has cost me some fun—I use more walking steps than fencing stance and footwork when teaching, and, hardest of all, force myself not to do things I actively want to do. At Rose & Thorns earlier this year, I desperately wanted to bout with people, but with my hip acting up after a misstep while teaching, I know I’d be on a cane, again, if I did. Missing out on the fun makes this a lot harder, but, if I can attend in 2026, hopefully that choice means I will be able to fence people.

Be Kind to your Future Self

Many of us want to fence into old age, right up until we drop, and generally we can IF we take care of ourselves. Nothing I say or write is likely to change anyone’s mind—I didn’t listen well when I was 18 or 28 either—but I’ve reached the age where it’s now my turn to take up the mantle and sound like Chicken Little.

If you’re injured, take a break and heal. If you are fencing a lot, warm-up, stretch properly, and after your workout cool down and maybe stretch again. If you are doing stupid things, and let’s be honest, at some point many of us have, at least consider first what that choice will look like in twenty to thirty years. I can’t say for sure that twice jumping out of a second-story window also contributed to my hip issues, but… [1] Fencing with seriously garbage repro sabres in the mid-90s while understandable given interest in historical fencing, meant that injuries from them were a magnitude higher than with an Olympic or Schlager blades. Neither of the latter ever cracked my ribs, sunk into my knee, or broke my fingers protected poorly by a brass knuckle-bow. The truth is the training I received, particularly from Maestro Al Couturier and his assistants, was perfect for studying Radaellian sabre, and the cutting dynamic doesn’t need a 100% accurate tool to work—one can use an Olympic sabre, something slightly heavier, or a stick. It’s the mechanics, not the tool. [2]

Ideally, in addition to fencing one is also exercising for health. This not only contributes to your general condition and well-being, but will aid you in preventing injury. A solid program for cardiovascular health and an appropriate weight-lifting/condition regimen only help. [3]

To the examples of Masters Albert and Delmar already mentioned, I’d like to point out some of the masters I’m working under in Barbasetti Military Sabre since 1895, Josef Šolc, who is 89 years old, has fenced for 75 years and is still going.

Exhibit A: Me

In much the same way as Sy Sperling was both president and a client for his “Hair Club for Men,” I’m not just advocating that you take care of yourself, but I’m a living example of what happens when you don’t. [4] I’ve been better about it in the last decade or so, but consider how late that is—I was in my 40s when I finally started paying attention to the good advice I got from coaches, maestri, and health professionals. There is no round-trip ticket to yesterday, so I can’t undo that or go back and smack sense into my younger self, but for many of you it’s not too late.

You can avoid being the middle-aged person often on a cane, or sitting out from the fun, or taking extended breaks to fix something you made worse by not taking that break earlier. We often say that the most difficult opponent we face is ourselves, and this can be as true on the piste or in the ring as it is outside of them. It will take willpower, discipline, and strength to avoid some of the pitfalls I’ve outlined here, but it can be done. You’re future self will thank you if you start taking care of yourself now.

NOTES:

[1] Details are unimportant, but needless to say jumping out of windows, for whatever reason, if it can be avoided, should be. When I talk about being young and dumb, I speak from experience 😉

[2] This is an important point and one often misunderstood, despite the fact that most of the historical fencing community is aware that people in the past often trained with sticks. The value of using a period-weight trainer isn’t that one is required to do things correctly, but that it helps us understand why certain aspects were necessary. For example, many cavalry sabres, especially mass-produced trooper blades, are front-weighted. It’s not only harder to use the wrist to move them, but it’s a less effective way to use the weapon. Radaelli’s innovation provided a better approach. One can, however, use the same elbow-as-axis mechanics with a sport sabre or stick.

[3] Beach muscles (or would we say Instagram/Tiktok now?) are not generally helpful in fencing. One needs strength in some degree, but the real value is in muscular support of joints, the cultivation of stamina, and the side benefits for one’s general health.

[4] Cf. 1984’s commercial, https://youtu.be/xeFoLdeqG1I?si=wW-4jlN131y13SgP

Listening to Nestor: Injury, Age, and Pursuing the Art

Nestor and his sons sacrifice to Poseidon; Attic red-figure calyx-krater (ca. 400–380 BCE): photo from wikicommons, © Marie-Lan Nguyen

In Book 1 of “The Iliad,” when Achilles and Agamemnon quarrel over a question of honor, one of the first to attempt to speak reason is the aged warrior, Nestor. Though shown some deference, neither party is keen to accept Nestor’s wisdom–one almost gets the sense that they’re humoring him as they do often later in the poem. [1] To be fair, Nestor can go on a bit, and is quick to throw his age and associated experience at his junior colleagues. The thing is, Nestor was right–had Achilles and Agamemnon listened to him the problem would have been solved. Of course we wouldn’t have the poem either. In fencing we have a wide variety of Nestors. Sometimes it is a gimpy limb clamoring via pain to remind one that it might be best to stop a drill or sit out the next bout. Sometimes it is an elder fencer or an even older master. If we’re really unlucky, Nestor may take the form of one’s physician.

Achilles chose glory and a short life over less fame and a long one, and many fencers are the same. In one’s teens, twenties, even thirties one can still do many things one maybe shouldn’t, but since recovery time is relatively fast, since one is still nimble, strong, etc. it’s easier to go for broke and relegate any worry to later. I’m a good example. As a younger person, say 17-35, I could fence for hours; I fenced several days a week; any injury was normally minor and healed quickly; and I took chances that only those without larger responsibilities take, such as fencing with 3-4lb sabres and only a brass stirrup guard to protect the hand (or fail to protect it as I found out once). [2] There is no round-trip ticket to yesterday, so hindsight is as useless as it can be painful. However, like a Nestor, meaning I realize that neither Achilles nor Agamemnon are likely to listen, I feel compelled to encourage anyone keen to fence into their dotage to be mindful of their choices and take care of themselves. Cultivating sense at a younger age is tough, but ideal–the sooner we take care of ourselves, the longer we’re likely going to be able to fence.

Conditioning, Stretching, and Rest

We’re less likely to be injured if our over-all health is decent. If we eat right, exercise regularly, and maintain decent cardio everything is easier. For those keen to lift weights, fine, but for fencing you don’t need to be a body-builder or circus strongman. It’s better to build useful, appropriate strength than attempt to be yet another six-pack clad wanna-be model. [3] There are a number of resources for diet and exercise–if all else fails ask your doctor.

Stretching before and after fencing is important. Normally we warm up a bit, then stretch. None of this needs to be strenuous, just enough to keep you limber and less likely to pull or tear anything. Here too, it’s unnecessary to do the splits–don’t push anything, even a stretch, too far.

Equally important is recovery time. Our bodies need rest after exercise, and if we push past rest we only increase the chances of injury. This could mean tearing your ACL or striking an opponent too hard. Take breaks. It’s a fencing class, not boot camp, and no instructor should push anyone beyond reason. Likewise, no instructor should ever shame anyone for taking that break, being unable to do a particular exercise, or anything else. There are usually alternatives to many stretches and a decent instructor will suggest one of those if possible.

Injury and Recovery

If you end up with an injury take care of it. Happily, injuries are normally few and far between in fencing provided one isn’t a knucklehead. Wear your protective gear, observe the safety rules of the sala, and look out for one another. Most injuries occur because people fail to heed safety precautions, or they’re mucking about, or they purposefully disdain safety protocols out of some he-man notion of toughness.

For anything beyond the occasional bruise it’s often wise to see a medical professional. A deep cut, a stab wound, a potential concussion, a broken bone, a torn or pulled muscle or ligament, anything like this could have serious consequences. See a doctor, and see a proper one, one with MD behind their name, not one of the many purveyors of pseudo-science. [4]

Give yourself time to heal. I once sprained my ankle the night before a tournament, but being 21 just wrapped it tightly and fenced anyway. That wasn’t smart. If we start training before an injury heals we run the risk of making it worse, but sometimes we also ensure that we keep that injury for the rest of our lives. Most of the joints on my right side are compromised in some degree, and some of these injuries, such as tennis-elbow, could have been alleviated by dealing with them properly at the time.

Age: It just plain SUCKS

Goals 😉

Age in some degree is relative, but as a general rule the older we get the longer it takes to heal, the more recovery time we need, and much as we might hate it we slow down. It sucks. I know because I’ve fenced for over three decades. IF we want to keep fencing until we literally cannot, then we have to be cognizant of our choices early on.

Somethings, alas, are just a younger person’s game. Longsword, for example, one “can” do as an older person, but one probably shouldn’t. It’s one thing to dabble with another old codger or take the occasional seminar, but it’s less wise to enter tourneys at a certain age. They can be rough, and tough as some old people are the simple fact is that they break more easily. No 20 or 30 something is going to take it easy on you, and if they did, you’d only be insulted.

This can be super hard to accept when we really love something. In the past year or so I’ve realized that the clock is ticking for me and using appropriately weighted historical sabres. I “can” fence with them, and still do, but not as often as I did, because much as I miss it if I continue to use them all the time I won’t be fencing any sabre down the road. When this happens we have to make some difficult choices. I teach more than I fight now, I often use lighter sabres (such as the S2000 Olympic with kids), and I focus on other weapons I enjoy.

For example, though I’ve always read up on and dabbled in smallsword, it’s increasingly becoming one of my chief studies. [5] The others are largely related to it, such as late period rapier and smallsword’s 19th century descendent, epee. They don’t have the flash and fire of sabre, and I miss that, but they share the same intellectual aspects, rely on similar strategies, and even include, epee excepted, some of the more physical options in sabre and broadsword. Weapons seizures, for example, add a bit of spice.

The Take Away

Fence, and fence hard, but be smart. To me, the best approach is a middle-way, something between Sterne’s health miser and Blake’s supposed palace of wisdom. This is to say that we don’t want to be so careful that we’re bored and learn nothing–the Art is about fighting and thus must be practiced–but nor do we want to fight like our lives depended on it each and every time. Moderation will serve most of the time.

Whatever one fences, it pays to be aware of the wear and tear on your body, because it is a pain delayed. We pay for the fun of our 20s in our 40s, and it’s all downhill after that. If you don’t plan to fence into your 90s, cool, then go nuts. If you do think you might enjoy fencing until you drop, and you’d prefer not to do it from a wheelchair or from behind a walker, then maintain your health, fence responsibly, and let that ligament heal no matter how long it takes.

NOTES:

[1] Cf. “The Iliad,” Book 1, ll. 318ff

[2] In the age before better gloves, a guard that turned in a sweaty grip or broke could mean a trip to the ER. Pinky nails, btw, do grow back, but it takes months.

[3] I know a lot of people keen to lift, and some may be unhappy with this statement, but I stand by it. Unless one intends to wrestle a fair amount, where size and power mean more, any weight-training for fencing shouldn’t focus on bulk.

[4] This may also offend, but chiropractors, some massage outfits, and others are not doctors. In the PNW I have found that a lot of people go to chiropractors–I’m not sure why. While I’m sure there are some who provide what is probably decent massage, the “science” behind their practice is dubious. See for example:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1556349913601667?via%3Dihub

https://www.jpsmjournal.com/article/S0885-3924(07)00783-X/fulltext

[5] The first work on fencing I ever bought was a facsimile copy of Domenico Angelo’s The School of Fencing (1763; 1787); I found it at a used book store in 1986.