\u201cI\u2019d take fencing,\u201d I say immediately. I know it\u2019s good for exercise and balance, and there are strong elements of the mental acuity that come with anticipating your opponents. But I\u2019d decided that, at 75, I was too old. Now a widow, I was going home to the Colorado Rockies for the winter. My late husband had died at 90, when I was a mere 67.<\/p>\n
Still inspired by my friend, I google fencing classes and find some near where I\u2019d be staying. There are many in larger cities and at other times, but there were five a week during the time this local coach teaches, from about 3:30 to nearly 10 pm on weekdays.<\/p>\n
Three schedules in Glenwood Springs draw on towns along the I-70 highway, and two pull students from Basalt and Aspen further up-valley. Those are taught in the Red Brick Center for the Arts, once an elementary school in Aspen that our son had gone to years before and where I\u2019d taken what turned out to be an all-women tap-dancing class at noon.<\/p>\n
I called Coach Greg. I imagined someone about my age with a small, grey ponytail. Yes, I could have individual lessons, despite my age and the fact that I didn\u2019t plan to compete. He\u2019d supply all the equipment, as well as the instruction. I could sign up when I got to town. It would cost $200 for the six lessons of twenty minutes each. Twenty minutes seemed short, but it turned out to be the right amount of time. I simply couldn\u2019t absorb any more than that.<\/p>\n
![\"fencing](\"https:\/\/healthyaging.net\/magazine\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/05\/Kay-and-Coach-Greg.jpg\")
<\/a>Kay and Coach Greg Domashovetz. Photo: Courtesy of Kay Eldredge<\/p><\/div>\n
Of course, Coach Greg turns out to be younger than our son now. He\u2019s a mere thirty-six years old and studied math — and fencing \u2013 at the University of Illinois. The fencing took. He studied fencing in Denver and refereed regional and national fencing competitions. In 2017, he moved to the mountains to do the other activities that mattered to him, including fencing. He also loves biking in summer and skiing in winter. Now, he\u2019s the sole owner of the Roaring Fork Fencing School, named after the small river that runs through the valley.<\/p>\n
Coach Greg lives in Carbondale, part way between Glenwood and Aspen. He\u2019s good-looking, with a short beard and brown, rumpled hair that makes him look like he just got out of bed. He now centers on teaching individuals, the classes of kids he also coaches, and refereeing more advanced matches.<\/p>\n
The large room he rents in the Red Brick has a wooden floor and mirrors along the length of one wall. At other times, it\u2019s used for ballet classes. The light is good, as are the acoustics. The Arts Center in Glenwood, which I visited for a fencing open house there, is just past the Hotel Colorado. Insulated pipes run across the high ceiling, and the brick walls are painted white. At the far end, a restroom has been enclosed. At the near end, a staircase leads \u2013 up. The lighting is dim, and it\u2019s hard for me to hear. Here, there are more girls in the classes, drawing from a larger population.<\/p>\n
Coach Greg is busy, though his hours aren\u2019t those of most businessmen. He uses his car to bring equipment to all lessons and classes \u2013 gloves, masks, and protective covering to deflect the foils. Almost everyone learns first with a foil. He disinfects those against germs at the end of each session, along with the masks. Masks have a heavy fabric that protects the neck. The mesh of the facemask is large enough to see clearly but small enough not to admit the foil. He launders all the clothing. And he teaches.<\/p>\n
\u201cEn garde,\u201d the kids call to each other, echoing what they\u2019ve seen in movies. My classes are quite different from theirs. It\u2019s not until my fifth class that I wear any protective clothing.<\/p>\n
Coach Greg has worn it to keep from being hit by my foil, which I hold in my right hand since I\u2019m right-handed. My right foot also leads my left. We start in the position he refers to as being like second position in ballet.<\/p>\n
All very simple.<\/p>\n
We move back and forth, and as Coach Greg explains, you don\u2019t need a varied stance since you only go back and forth in fencing. Going forward, you are attacking and go around your opponent\u2019s foil to strike. When you\u2019re backing up, you\u2019re defending and strike your opponent\u2019s foil to get it out of the way.<\/p>\n
The third move is lunging, which I tackled later in my training. \u201cI want you to make beautiful lunges,\u201d he says. \u201cThis is the point of the exercise. If you lunge too far, you\u2019re in trouble.\u201d He means you\u2019ll be off-balance. He is looking for a full extension of legs and arms but not over-extension. I\u2019ve even bought used books on fencing to review all this, though I haven\u2019t opened them yet.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait until you see what your opponent is going to do,\u201d he instructs. My opponent is always Greg. We\u2019re both fencing \u2013 but not really. He\u2019s much better, and he says it takes a year of classes before you\u2019re really fencing. As my lessons intensify, I sometimes wish we had a little more time to practice. At other times, it\u2019s all I can do to keep up. He\u2019s always enthusiastic. \u201cGood! Awesome!\u201d he calls to me.<\/p>\n
Fencing has bloody beginnings, but now it\u2019s a graceful and gracious sport. All the terms are French, no matter where in the world they\u2019re used. It became an Olympic sport at the first modern Games in 1898. At the end of every session, he makes sure you salute your opponent with your foil before sweeping it to the ground. He demonstrates how it\u2019s done.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m taking a second round of lessons if Coach Greg can fit me in. I could even compete with older fencers if I chose to. But I\u2019m not going to compete. Instead, it\u2019s fun and an adventure to learn something new. Exercise classes on television are one thing, but this is something else.<\/p>\n