Looking for Closure? Come Back to Where You Started. WSD's Aliya Itzkowitz on a Nationals Performance Unlike Any Other
Success is, ultimately, a metric of the expectations you set for yourself.
“British Nationals, 2021, Registration Deadline” the email read. I paused. I had not competed in my sport, or even contemplated competing, since the penultimate Olympic qualifer in March, 2020. Back then, fencing, and the Tokyo Olympics had been my focus. I had rearranged my life, balancing multiplied short-term jobs and pursuing a masters so as to give myself the best chance at qualification.
Nevertheless, when Covid hit, in early 2020, I was not sitting in a qualification position; ranked second in the U.K. but with some 20 European fencers ahead of me in the race for 3 individual spots. Fencers representing European nations have a particularly narrow route to the Olympics. I had always known this but had still wanted to go for it. When Covid happened, I had a moment of reckoning. Qualifying had become nearly mathematically impossible. I put my fencing bag away in April 2020 and had barely looked at it ever since.
As I sat there, contemplating the email from British Fencing, I paused to reflect. A few questions entered my head. Was there any point competing if I wasn’t ‘prepared’? Would it be frustrating, embarrassing, even? It had been a year and 6 months since my last competition. In that time I had shown up at club training nights about 3 or 4 times. It felt strange to train recreationally when I had spent three years chasing the highest goal. That, and a desire for closure had kept me away from the sport for several months. When you set ambitious goals you are answerable to them. You have to field legitimate questions from family and friends: “So, what’s going on with the fencing?” “What about the Olympics?”
I mulled over those emotions as I sat on a train, reading the email “British Nationals, 2021, Registration Deadline.” I have travelled for my sport so many times that the very act of travelling sometimes reminds me of competing. When you have pursued a sport for so many years, it never truly leaves you. Perhaps it was that moment of realisation that prompted my thumb to hit ‘register.’ A few days later, I was fencing again, and, four weeks later, I was headed to the Nationals.
Over the life of an athlete you have some days where you wake up with a sense of clarity. It is as though you see everything in slow motion and every step you take is decisive. At the Nationals, since I was no longer as fast or strong, I relied on experience. My knowledge of the game carried me through matches with more able-bodied opponents. I used my intuition to find a way to win, ending the competition with a bronze medal.
When you compete with zero expectations it is easier to perform. Your feet feel lighter, you are unburdened. I felt light that day as I moved through my actions. For the first time in many years there had been no goal. That day was like a celebration and an unburdening of all the joy, pain and emotion that this sport has made me feel for the last couple of years. I had spent over a year searching for closure, but that had been a fool’s errand. You never achieve closure in something that is part of who you are.
So, if you are an athlete looking for ‘closure,’ whatever that may be, I suggest coming back where you started. That day, at Nationals, I had the mindset of a beginner. I returned to a place where a competition is about nothing more than what it should always be: testing your abilities, reconnecting with friends, and, just like in those early days, simply, enjoyment.
