Today, I honestly felt like quitting fencing. It was just a release of pent-up frustration built up over the past half year or so. Seeing all the new sabre beginners — tall Americans — filled with such fire reminded me of myself one year back.
But it was also a bitch-slap reminder that they all stand like, 5 inches above me. Height in fencing may not be the ‘know all, do all’ factor as in basketball, but it’s still pretty important. Our sabre squad was even importing senior foil fencers to try out sabre.
The scenario of not making the team this year made my heart bleed; somehow the frosty images of winter term began flying in. Was I prepared to walk through snow and fluff, wrapped in heavy jacket to get to practice, knowing that I would never travel with the team? I did that last year, and I didn’t know if I could do it again.
This thought of quitting also stunned me because I had promised myself never to give up even if I didn’t make it to the school team for all my 3 or 4 years here. And there I was, ready to quit so easily.
But, God certainly guided my hand as I fenced brilliantly tonight (if I may say so). And probably for the first time in a year, coach actually complimented me on having some good moves. Saying that, my fencing will probably be terrible tomorrow. Ha.
No doubt we fall, and I’m ever grateful that God picked me up from the fencing strip right there and then. A testimonial example of the promise I made to myself, Him and to all the loved ones that I strive for.