In the demanding world of elite sport, careers are typically measured in years, not decades. Yet at 44, Estonian epee fencer Irina Embrich continues to compete at the highest international level, defying conventional wisdom about athletic longevity. From her first international medals in the early 2000s to Olympic gold at Tokyo 2020 and a European Championship individual title in 2023, Embrich’s career spans a timeframe that few elite athletes can match.

What enables such extraordinary longevity? How has she maintained both physical capability and competitive drive while generations of opponents have come and gone? In this comprehensive interview, Embrich shares insights into her mental approach, perseverance through setbacks, training philosophy, and the delicate balance between competitive drive and enjoyment that has sustained her remarkable career.

The Mental Game: Psychology of Championship Fencing

Igor Chirashnya: In epee fencing, the most difficult moment is often 14-14. What happens in your head at that moment? As someone with more experience than perhaps anyone competing today, how do you handle that situation?

Irina Embrich: For me, it doesn’t matter. If it’s 14-14, it’s important for me to win and deliver that touch. I can disconnect from the thought that people are watching or not watching. It’s a bout, and I simply want to win and become the victor.

IC: How do you approach these moments? Do you have certain thoughts or what might be called “self-talk” when you go into such a bout?

IE: Psychologically, a lot depends on your mindset. I had a period when I lost all the time on priority. It was probably a whole season — maybe 9 or 10 bouts in a row where I understood that if I went to priority, it was as if I had already lost the bout because I didn’t have confidence to deliver that touch.

This was a long time ago, before the 2008 Olympics. I had many tournaments — World Cups, even Estonian competitions with important bouts — and I lost them all by one touch. It didn’t matter if I was leading, catching up, or had equalized the score — the last touch was somehow… cursed.

I didn’t qualify directly for the Olympics because I lost by one touch in 3-4 World Cup events. This is why psychology is very important at that moment.

IC: How did you overcome this period of struggling with decisive moments?

IE: When I finally won a bout by one touch after a long break, I think I almost cried. Although it wasn’t a particularly important competition, for me this period that had been pressing on me so heavily had passed.

It was at a Nordic countries event, and I really wanted to win at that moment. I thought, “How much longer? When will this black streak end?” It wasn’t an easy bout — I was losing the whole time, then caught up. I specifically prepared an action I wanted to do. I knew that with this action, I could deliver a touch. When it worked, this planned action and strategy, it was as if a weight had fallen from my shoulders. I exhaled and thought, “Now I can fence; there will be more victories on priority and otherwise.”

IC: You’ve mentioned this was a tough period mentally. Has that changed now?

IE: It’s certainly different now. This was 16 or 17 years ago, and I’ve developed different mental approaches since then. In general, especially in team events, I’ve won more often when there was a decisive touch than I’ve lost. I’m probably more of a team fighter. Initially, my coach probably raised me or tuned me that way. In a team, I could gather myself even more than in individual competitions.

IC: Why do you think that is?

IE: Probably the feeling that the team is behind you, that there’s some additional energy drawn from somewhere that’s very difficult to find in individual competitions.

IC: I’ve noticed something interesting in your competition history: you often lose when facing other Estonian fencers in international competitions. Why do you think this happens?

IE: This has always been the case. It’s very difficult for me to fence against my own teammates in competitions, especially at events outside Estonia. It’s quite difficult for me, and I often lose. I can’t even do anything about it.

Maybe because they’re my teammates, and it’s harder for me to focus somehow, but it just doesn’t work. The very fact that they’re from my team already takes away 30% of my capabilities. I can’t realize them somehow.

I go out thinking, “God, I need to win,” but it’s as if I haven’t fenced for a month. There are a bunch of thoughts that shouldn’t be present in the bout at all.

IC: How do you handle losses generally?

IE: Well, losses can be different, and of course, when there were title competitions where I didn’t make it to, say, the top four, I was very upset. These bouts would still come to me in dreams, the opponents I lost to, and it was very sad.

But I’m generally a forgetting person; I quickly readjust and try to think positively, otherwise… In sports, we lose more in fencing. If you’re going to be devastated after every tournament, you’ll probably quit quickly. You simply won’t have the strength to be upset. There were some moments, of course, some matches where I was very upset, but in general, I always strive to draw conclusions and keep training afterwards.

A Champion’s Journey: From Setbacks to Olympic Gold

IC: You missed qualifying for four consecutive Olympics — Sydney 2000, Athens 2004, Beijing 2008, and London 2012. Can you tell me about the most difficult of these disappointments and how it affected you?

IE: The 2008 qualification was particularly difficult. I didn’t qualify directly for the Olympics because I lost by one touch in 3-4 World Cup events. I went to the zonal qualification tournament where I was eliminated in the first pool stage. Out of four bouts, I won only one and was knocked out immediately — I didn’t even make it to the direct elimination rounds.

It was a very difficult season for me, and it was very hard to come back to fencing, to sport in general, to find motivation to work further.

We didn’t qualify in 2000 as a team, we didn’t qualify in 2004, 2008 was individual only and I didn’t qualify again. This desire to get to the Olympics kept me in fencing. When I was showing results, I understood that it was possible, and I just needed to get through this difficult period.

IC: After such repeated disappointments, what kept you going? Most athletes would have given up the Olympic dream after multiple cycles.

IE: I probably just had the desire to get to the Olympics; it was always a goal since childhood. When my coach initially lined up all the little kids and asked, “Who wants to become an Olympic champion?” the whole group raised their hands, including me. I was really going toward this dream; I really wanted to get there.

When we didn’t qualify in 2012 for the Olympics as a team, I told the girls, “I know what needs to happen for you to get to the Olympics. I probably need to stop trying to qualify, because after 4 Olympics, I still can’t make it. Maybe the problem is with me.” This was a joke, but a sad joke.

IC: Was there a specific turning point or achievement that helped motivate you to continue after these disappointments?

IE: When we took third place at the European Championships in 2012, it gave us better funding, and that medal brought us together and strongly motivated us all to continue. At that time, I was 32, and the girls were 20 years old — a 12-year age difference with Erika Kirpu and Julia Beljajeva, and Kristina Kuusk was 5 years younger than me. And then with this team, we went on to collect many more medals, including gold.

The success with that team gave me the energy to continue. I knew we had the potential to achieve great results, and I wanted to be part of that journey.

IC: When you finally qualified for Rio 2016 at age 36, what was that experience like after chasing the Olympic dream for so long?

IE: I was very happy. Just the fact that I made it there. At that point, I wasn’t even thinking about results, although we were a strong team at that time. We had won the European Championships in the Olympic year in the team event. So, in principle, there was a chance to perform well at the Olympics and win a medal. But I went there simply with a feeling of joy that my childhood dream had finally come true. Even though it came late, I still made it there.

I was probably psychologically more stable and calm than my younger teammates because I really went there to enjoy it. Of course, I prepared and trained as much as possible, but I didn’t have that competitive jitters. I fought without thinking that it was the Olympics; I was just enjoying being there.

IC: In Rio, the team finished fourth. How did you process this result after finally making it to the Olympics?

IE: As Kaido Kaaberma said when he returned from the Olympics with a fourth place in individuals, “Fourth place is like garbage.” It feels like you were there, but at the same time, you weren’t. You were close, you had a chance. Out of four teams, three have medals, and you’re the last one — a nobody from this quartet.

This feeling is unpleasant in terms of being without a medal. But it was still cool that we could fence for places and for medal positions.

IC: After Rio, many might have expected you to retire, especially given your age and the grueling qualification process. What made you decide to continue for another Olympic cycle?

IE: After the Olympics, people asked me if I was going to quit. I said, “I don’t know, I’ll fence for another year.” Because I really enjoyed fencing at the Olympics. I fenced with pleasure there. I thought I’d fence for just one more year, and we’d see how my health allows it.

That year ended positively with the World Championship win in 2017. But I still had a wrist injury that was periodically bothering me. There were painful sensations. I was getting injections that block pain, but they have hormones that block it, and for about 3 months, you can train comfortably and feel great. But it’s only temporary because the injury doesn’t go away; you’re just removing the painful sensation.

IC: For the Tokyo Olympics, you were a reserve fencer rather than in the starting lineup. How did this change your approach to the Games?

IE: First of all, I was a reserve fencer; I didn’t make the main team. And I wanted a medal; I honestly said that. We’d already had fourth place, and I didn’t like it. I wanted more. So we trained for this medal. That’s partly why I stayed in fencing.

IC: The team’s Olympic gold medal in Tokyo represented the crowning achievement of your career. When did it sink in that you had achieved what you’d been working toward for so long?

IE: At first, there was a feeling of delight, and it didn’t feel real that it had happened to us. Winning the Olympics is really an extraordinary event. Perhaps after a year, I already understood that this was indeed our victory, that we deserved it, but at first it seemed like some miracle had happened, like a dream — was it really real?

IC: How did Estonia react to your Olympic gold?

IE: When we returned, there was a feeling of heroism, of accomplishment. Indeed, for such a small country to win gold in a team sport is something unreal. Estonia was truly supportive; people supported us and were happy when they met us on the street.

The reception was unexpected but very pleasant when we arrived in Estonia; they organized such a welcome for us. It was very nice; many sport lovers, people who congratulated us and just came to express their gratitude and respect came.

IC: Then in 2023, at age 43, you won the individual European Championship — becoming one of the oldest champions in the sport’s history. Did this achievement feel different from your team’s successes?

IE: After the European Championships, yes, it was cool, and it seemed like I could even put away the epees and calm down with that. But I don’t know — I still like to fence, I’m still enjoying it, so I’ll stay for a while longer. Maybe it’s a season, maybe it’s two, I don’t know. Everyone talks about the next Olympics, but you never know, you can never predict.

Training Philosophy and Longevity Secrets

IC: Can you describe your current training process? How do you train during a week or a month?

IE: I train with general fencing practice in the evenings. Sometimes it’s more fencing, sometimes more footwork, pair work. In the mornings, I get lessons, though not frequent lessons — I had them once a week, and it wasn’t a particularly long lesson. But again, when there are training camps, then it’s more frequent.

And in the mornings, there’s yoga, various general physical preparation, but not every day — alternating. But there are definitely additional training sessions that provide an opportunity to develop other muscles. If it’s just fencing, then it’s shoulder muscles, intercostals, and so on.

IC: You mentioned taking lessons just once a week. Is that enough?

IE: Well, possibly not enough, since I don’t win all competitions, probably. Why not take more? Well, it seems like we don’t need more if there’s fencing practice. There were periods when I received more lessons, but that was earlier. Earlier, it was more frequent, like three times a week were lessons. Gradually, it became less, and again, before competitions or training camps, then I receive more.

IC: Who do you currently take lessons with?

IE: I was getting lessons from Kaido Kaaberma, who worked with the national team as the head coach. He recently left that position, and Samuil Kaminskiy, my first coach, has returned as the senior coach of the Estonian national team.

IC: How do you feel about Kaminskiy’s return?

IE: I’m pleased that now we have a person who can unite us, gather us together. Of course, I know him very well; he’s a very close person to me because he instilled in me both a love for sport and for fencing in particular.

I did gymnastics and fencing in parallel until a certain age, and it was Samuil Karlovich’s achievement that he pulled me into fencing, probably believing that I could achieve something. A coach should see and understand that this person is capable of achieving good results in this sport. And probably by his care, maybe more attention shown to me in training and in life in general, he gave me the opportunity to realize myself in this sport.

IC: So he’s been important throughout your career?

IE: Yes, absolutely. He left for Norway when I was 24. So from early childhood until adulthood, I was already an adult athlete competing in adult competitions. All this time we worked together, and in principle, it’s his achievement that he raised me.

I worked with him periodically later too. This was a period in 2010; we collaborated for several years, 3-4 years. I went to Norway to him, trained with him, worked, received lessons from him. He traveled with us to title competitions, to World Cups when he had the opportunity.

IC: You mentioned working as a coach alongside your own competitive career. How has that affected your longevity?

IE: I think that the fact that I started working as a coach at some point also distracts me. When you only train, it probably tires you a bit. If you don’t have other interests, and you’re only focused on sport, no matter how much you love it or want to do it, it still gets old, so to speak.

The opportunity to work as a coach probably distracted me a little. Plus, when you train others yourself, explain, give lessons — this also helps you fence better and understand the process in general.

IC: You’ve dealt with a significant wrist injury. How did you manage your recovery and return to competition?

IE: After the World Championships in 2017, I took a break then, I didn’t fence for six months. They were giving me plasma injections and so on. I thought if I recovered, I would continue. If not, then not, because it was unknown — doctors also said you can operate, you can get injections, you can put it in a cast, that is, many different options were offered.

I didn’t even pick up an epee in my left hand for 4 months. I was only giving lessons sometimes with my right hand, and that’s all. I could do footwork and run, general physical training. Not much, just enough not to fall out completely.

When I returned after this break, it was certainly difficult because I had lost both form and feeling, which is very important for a fencer, especially for me with distance being very important, and hitting precisely and so on. I didn’t have this, and I had to look for it again in lessons and target practice.

IC: As a left-handed pistol grip fencer, what opponents do you find most challenging?

IE: For me, even a left-handed French grip fencer might be more uncomfortable than a right-handed one. Although French grip fencers are all very special fencers, that is, you need to feel the distance well with them and so on, without this you can’t overcome them.

When I was younger, I was perhaps more aggressive, and I remember one tournament, we even laughed about it with the coach afterward. He told me, “You know, you took second place in touches received, and first place in touches delivered.” That is, I accumulated a lot, but I also delivered a lot. I was very active, and sometimes I needed to be restrained.

In a way, this hindered me at times, but with experience, this ability to attack, to be fearless and not afraid of the opponent facing you — this probably helped me later on. And then another nuance that probably also came with experience: you can’t underestimate your opponent.

IC: Has your approach to competition changed over time?

IE: When coaches say, “You’re more experienced, you can’t, you have no right to lose” — no, you do have the right to lose, because often you’re fighting against yourself. When you see a weaker opponent, you can’t just throw your hat at them; you need to break them down and try to win.

There was a period when I had perhaps excessive confidence or a kind of boldness that an athlete shouldn’t have. This happens when you have a bunch of titles, or when you’re already older, and it seems like you should win, but if you underestimate your opponent, it very often works against you.

IC: How important is physical training beyond fencing for your longevity?

IE: It’s an essential part of my work. Looking at my figure, which is thin and slender, you can see that I take care of this. General physical preparation is a necessary part of my work.

I do some of it myself, but I also attend general training sessions. We have a physical training coach who comes to us and specifically works with a certain group, those who are already fencing. I arrange with her what she gives us, and me in particular. We work with her as well. She has been working with fencers for a long time, so she’s with us. She knows which muscle groups are more developed, less developed, and what to work on.

IC: What keeps you motivated at this stage of your career?

IE: I love to fence, I like this sport, and probably these are my emotions for the last few seasons. When I had an injury, I understood that it’s very difficult to fence with an injury. And then when my wrist recovered and wasn’t giving me pain anymore, for some period I just enjoyed it because I was fencing and nothing was hurting.

IC: Do you think the delayed timing of your biggest successes has helped prevent burnout?

IE: I achieved things quite late. I never got to the Olympics until I was 36, when many have already finished by that time. Other athletes who achieve everything young early on probably find it harder to motivate themselves again. But I still had goals that weren’t realized yet, like the Olympics, which I only reached at 36 years old.

IC: Your daughter Maria is now fencing as well. How is it balancing being both her mother and her coach?

IE: I think it interferes. If she possibly had another coach, she might… although it’s hard for me to say. She’s seen a lot of fencing from childhood, so she seems to understand, but it’s difficult for her to implement it all, and she gets upset about it.

As a coach, I want her to train more, but as a mother, I want her to study, so I’m always at war with myself, in internal conflict, because I both want her to go to training camp with me, but I understand that she’s in her first year of university, maybe she’s overwhelmed with studies. She’s such a diligent girl; she likes to study and wants to study well, she’s a bit of a maximalist.

IC: What advice would you give to young fencers about building a sustainable career?

IE: I try to explain to my daughter, who is now fencing, that we’re all different. Not everyone succeeds earlier. Someone starts winning after 20 years or starts fencing well. This doesn’t mean that if you didn’t show anything in cadets or juniors, then that’s it, you can write yourself off.

You need to train and, again, if you like it. The main thing is to find some approach so that it’s interesting, so that there’s a desire to come to training. Even the company you train with matters. That is, if there are positive athletes around you, this is also a big plus in the training process. If you like it, if you’re engaged and you come, you get positivity in training, then in any case, some results will come too.

IC: Looking back at your remarkable journey, what do you think is the most important factor in your longevity?

IE: You need to love this sport. The love for fencing itself has been constant throughout my career.

I was probably a crazy lady in my youth. When I wanted to return to fencing so badly — my coach had left, I had given birth to Masha — first of all, I fenced when she was 4 or 5 months old. I was still pregnant, and I said I would go to the Universiade, absolutely definitely, I would give birth and go. The secretary scolded me, saying, “Calm down, what Universiade? You’ll just give birth there.” I said, “I’m going to the Universiade, I don’t care at all.”

When my little one was 3 months old, I already went to the Universiade and won 3rd place. I had this passion for fencing that nothing could dampen. There were periods when everything irritated me, and I wanted to throw all the epees away. But still, there was such a desire from my youth. People told me, “What are you, crazy?” But I felt I had to, I wanted to — there was this inner desire to fence.

A Legacy of Longevity

Irina Embrich’s extraordinary career longevity stands as one of the most remarkable aspects of her legacy in fencing. Through a thoughtful balance of physical training, mental approach, and evolving motivation, she has sustained world-class performance through multiple Olympic cycles.

Her journey offers valuable lessons for athletes in any sport about sustaining passion and performance over the long term. Rather than focusing solely on specific achievements, Embrich has found a way to maintain her love for the fundamental activity of fencing while adapting her goals and expectations as she’s moved through different phases of her career.

As she continues to compete at 44, with her sights potentially set on the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics, Embrich remains an inspiring example of what’s possible when an athlete finds the delicate balance between ambition and enjoyment, between pushing limits and sustainable practice. Her approach challenges conventional assumptions about athletic careers and offers a template for longevity that future generations of fencers may seek to emulate.

Most importantly, Embrich’s continued presence on the international stage reminds us that chronological age need not dictate when an athletic career must end. With the right approach to training, recovery, and motivation, the boundaries of sporting longevity can be extended far beyond traditional expectations — a legacy perhaps as significant as any medal she has won.

Irina Embrich will participate in the AFM World Champions Camp, together with Italian World and European Champion Davide Di Veroli, on August 4-8, 2025. If you want to fence against her, you can register here.

Academy of Fencing Masters is incredibly grateful to Irina Embrich for sitting down to share her insight with our readers. This interview has been edited down to keep it at a readable length, as Irina was so generous with her time. It is published with her approval on this blog.

Images: © Marie-Lan Nguyen / Wikimedia Commons / CC-BY 2.5