So the return to fencing has been a great deal of fun. It has not, however, been without slight mishap.
I fence foil. Which means that my legs are not part of the target area. So I don't usually wear my knickers unless I'm competing. (Let me clarify that "knickers" is a technical term for fencing pants, not a Britishism for underwear.) And as it was 83 in Minneapolis yesterday, and I train in an un-airconditioned basement, I wore warm up pants last night.
Which is why the young man I was fencing against managed to get his foil underneath the hem of my jacket and open up a line along my flank. (Knickers would have overlapped with the jacket further. What happened was my fault. And not at all the usual sort of thing in modern fencing.) We both thought it was just a hard hit until we noticed that my weapon stopped registering touches, and realized he had sliced through my body cord. Then while swapping out body cords, my hand came away sticky, and he said, "Um, that's an awful lot of blood." At which point his eyes rolled back in his head, and I decided I was done with training for the evening.
I am going to have an awesome scar. However, being slashed open with a sword, even in a fairly minor manner, feels, well, about like you would expect it to. Not awesome.
But the best part was when I was walking the dog, and bent over to hug a little neighborhood girl. She saw the bandage and asked how I got the owie. I explained that it was from a sword. She paused, and then very seriously asked, "Are you a pirate?"