Yup, back to running on pure willpower today. It’s hard not to be constantly aware of how tired I am. When Tanya and I made the BC staff schedule, I picked the Div 3 WF for myself for today because I thought it was only fair that I take one of the slowest events after my fun with saber the last couple of days.
Now that choice seems serendipitous—nothing will happen quickly or unexpectedly in Div 3 WF. Nothing complicated about the format, no flighting, no strip shortages—I can run this event in my sleep.
There’s a little bit of talk on the BC stage about the board meeting, and a certain level of disbelief at the return of repechage, but not a lot of energy invested in discussion. We don’t much like it, but we’re too tired for outrage at the moment.
While my 16 pools are out, I spend some time watching the trainers. It’s fun to watch them tape—some of them are absolute artists. They’ve been slammed throughout this SN with several relatively serious injuries along with a constant stream of more ordinary sprains and strains and aches and pains and requests for tape jobs and ice.
It’s not just the fencers, either. Quite a few referees are visiting the trainers, too, for taping and stretching out knotted muscles. Spending 8 or 10 days standing on concrete waving one’s arms around is hard on the feet, the ankles, the knees, the back, and the shoulders—and that doesn’t include the effects of stress encountered dealing with coaches and parents. April, the massage therapist, is working on a lot of referees, too, digging into those shoulder knots.
My WF plugs along, with me essentially on auto-pilot—I remember virtually nothing about it. Once it’s done, I realize that the strips that won’t be used tomorrow have already been stripped of their towers and machines, reels, and cords, ready for the crew that will come in to dismantle and pack them in their shipping crates tomorrow.
I help post tomorrow’s seeding—there’s only one small team event and the four Vet WE age levels, so the fencing will go quickly and the teardown can be completed during the afternoon.
We talk about whether we want to try a bout committee dinner, but nobody really has the energy. Many, like me, plan to pick up a meal to go from Ted’s, and eat alone in our quiet, quiet, quiet hotel rooms.
I say goodbye to everybody who’s still around and catch the next shuttle. Back at the hotel, I pack most of my stuff, toddle on down the block to Ted’s and get some bison pot roast to go, and bring it back to my room to eat. I watch a couple of episodes of The Closer on TNT, but fall asleep just as tonight’s new episode starts. I wake up an hour and a half later to turn off the TV and turn out the light.
- Number of individual competitors: 340
- Number of teams: 22
- End time: No idea, but I left around 4:30 or so, I think
- Hours worked today: 8 or 9
- BC hours cumulative total: 116–117
Alarm’s set for 5:30—gotta catch a train so I can catch a plane!