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Finding Power in Recovery

  • Ayah Pullen
  • Jul 8
  • 2 min read

Updated: Aug 23

In fencing, we're taught to adapt mid-bout, to find new angles, revise strategies, and respond under pressure. I used to believe that strength was defined by speed, precision, and explosive footwork. That the clash of blades and adrenaline of the bout was where resilience showed up. Then I got injured.

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Injury, it turns out, demands the same mindset of adapting, adjusting, and revising your strategy. Recovery has been its own kind of duel though less flashy, more internal.


At first, I felt angry. Then lost. My routine, a careful blend of classes, conditioning, and practice crumbled overnight. I couldn’t train. My blade always felt like an extension of me and not fencing left me disoriented. But I've learned that staying connected to the sport while healing isn't just possible - it’s powerful.


I never expected to miss Summer Nationals - the first time in 7 years!  I put in the work, qualified, and then had to sit it out – Doctor’s orders. There’s a unique torture to following your teammates fence on FencingTimeLive. I’m always there cheering them on after I finish my bouts. This time, all I could do was send them good luck texts, cheer from afar, and offer congratulations after they finished.   


I was adamant that even though I was out of the competition, my fencing brain would still stay sharp. I used the downtime to watch. Really watch. I analyzed strategies, footwork patterns, and reactions. I studied my own bout footage with fresh eyes. And I stretched. Religiously. Recovery became my new discipline.


Before this last concussion, I thought grit was pushing through pain. I’ve pushed through pulled muscles, stiff shoulders, and bruised calves. Now I know it also means respecting it. I began doing visualization drills, mentally fencing through entire bouts, move by move. I journaled my thoughts, my progress, even my doubts. The blade in my mind was just as sharp as the one I couldn’t yet hold.


Injury doesn’t erase your identity as a fencer. It deepens it. Injury forced me to redefine resilience, not as brute force, but as flexibility, patience, and inner fire. If you’re going through it right now, remember healing is training too. And sometimes the deepest growth happens when you're off the strip.


 
 
 

 

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