Category Archives: row

A post-rowing breakfast moment

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Saturday practice was … if I recall, hard. Coach JPT returned, and the expected practice, 20s at increasing rates, was preceded by a ton of heavy drill work (rowing by pairs, then fours, then sixes. Then more rowing by sixes, etc. etc). The aforementioned “increasing rate” was never higher than 28 spm.

Saturday after practice I got roped into having a real breakfast at The Varsity in Fremont, rather than the standard Peet’s coffee & PCC breakfast that is our tradition. The conversation between Melissa and the Varsity waitress went something like this:

Melissa: About your French Toast. Is it, like, white bread?

Waitress: Well, it’s like an egg bread.

M: But, like, it’s not healthy or anything, is it?

W: No. No, nothing about the French Toast is healthy.

M: Good. I’ll have the French Toast with an egg, and one slice of bacon and one sausage link.

 

Yummm. Me, I had the pancake, one egg and 2 sausage links. Did I mention practice was hard? Well, at least, I thought it was.

Light Pancake Breakfast at the Varsity
“Light” Pancake Breakfast at the Varsity

Another fine pic taken from my studly smartphone.

The agony of …

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I’ve delayed doing a post on the blog because I’ve been wanting to write about our loss at San Diego, but for a while it was actually painful to think about. It’s heartbreaking and only a couple of days ago did I finally start getting over it. Pretty ridiculous, huh.

I recall how bummed I was when UCONN got knocked out of the NCAA tournament after a thrilling overtime loss to USD.

I was bummed and angry when Tom Brady and my Patriots lost in the final minutes of the Super Bowl (damn that Eli Manning).

In these two cases, I assumed the best team would win. I was wrong.

For all you Giants and USD fans out there, quit yer whining. I don’t want to hear ANY reason why you think your team is better. They aren’t. Except that when it counted, when it really came down to it, my teams failed and your teams won.

That is heartache.

And so it was with the San Diego race. The Womens Master B (final only). Nevermind that actually, we beat five crews quite handily. We were .5 seconds away from first place. See the decimal there? That’s half-a-second. In the time it took me to type this comma, we lost the trophy, the gold medal, the rights to say that we are number one.

In the same vein that I believe Tom is a better quarterback than Eli, that UCONN was better than USD, so did I come to believe that we were the better crew. The fastest crew. The winning crew. What hurts is I was ready. We were ready. We were hungry and we wanted it.

One of the things that helped me get over it (other than friends and family looking at me funny wondering why I was so pissed off to place second in such a competitive event … which, personally, I don’t get. What, you think Derek Jeter WANTS to miss the World Series? Please.) was to watch the video. My mom purchased the DVD of the race and I finally got around to watching it as I was trying to figure out how to upload it to YouTube (which I still can’t figure out. I work where? I do what? And you want me to figure out video file conversion?). I thought I’d never want to watch that thing. Why should I … I know how it ends.

But I watched that finish and for a split-second I thought we won. I showed it to the husband, and he thought we won. The frikkin video editor, who, following the end of the race, showed only our boat and not the “winning” boat, must have thought we won as well.

It took the judges quite a while to determine a winner, 10 or more minutes, which to me sounds vaguely like those yahoos in Florida reviewing a hanging chad during the 2000 Presidential Election. In a sport where it is all about times and absolutes and yeses and nos, this very well could have been a maybe.

No, I don’t have a medal. This year. But I’m feeling better. Looking forward to cheering my teammates on Opening Day. Looking forward to new adventures and new races.

No guts, no glory.

No pain, no gain.

No guts, no glory

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SDCC

My last post before heading down to San Diego. While down there, I may try to post remotely. Will have to see how it turns out. I’ve decided that a rock playlist is the way to go in terms of iTunes Playlists. It worked well for the Big Climb, and why mess with a good thing?

Beyond that, I’m focussing on “getting mean”. At the request demand of the coach, it’s time to get f-ing pissed. Or, as the coach would say, PISSED. So, I’m putting my insecurities and doubts away. I’m looking for aggression and fierceness. Saving it for Sunday, when I lay it all out on the water. This is my mantra. Get mad and get pissed. This isn’t just about me, it’s about eight other women, so it’s now or never.

No guts, no glory.

With that I’m ditching my pop playlist. “Road to San Diego” will keep me company instead. I tested it on the erg at lunch today — (2) 15-minute steady state pieces — and it worked well. On top of “69 Floors of Rock“, add to it:

This should tide me over for now.

I’ll see you in SD.

Work it, circuit

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Kate mentioned to me that she hadn’t seen any workouts posted lately. Eh. My workout notebook is a bit empty as I recently had been using my workout cards that Trainer Dan had given me. More recently I’ve been reverting to what works best when you are working towards a goal, such as making a San Diego boat or climbing 69 flights of the Columbia Tower. Makes for an awkward workout, though, when you see your old trainer in the weight room with one of his other clients, and he sees you’re obviously not doing what he’s instructed you to do. Not entirely true. I was already doing Yates and Push ups before we met. But, it’s like bumping into an ex-boyfriend. Avoid eye contact and pretend you don’t see him. Plug in the iPod so it’s harder to talk.

Yesterday I had about 30 minutes at lunch so I did a quick circuit-training session:
1×15 each exercise no rest in between, 2 minutes rest, then again:
Squat w/dumbbells
Standing Lunge w/dumbbells
Push ups (Bosu)
Bench Press (1-arm, on the ball)
Yates Rows
Shoulder Press
Then ended with super sets of Bicep Curls / Tricep Bench Dips (with legs on the ball)

My cool down was walking back to the office (a 5 to 10 minute walk). Not ideal. I prefer having more time, but work has been hectic since starting the new job, so I feel the need to spend as much time in the office as possible.

Kate suggests I try her Kettle Bell sessions, and even offered to change up the time so I can make it. This works well, so then I can lift on Thursday and do a cardio session on Fri instead of lift. Plus, the kettle bells will be something new, different. Change is always good. I’ll be sure to report back on it.

Today at practice:
Joe (cx), JW, RF, JP, AL, KT, TG, 2, JR.
Rowed by 6s, Drills, then attempted to do 5-minute pieces but was constantly interrupted in the crowded Fremont canal.
The first part of practice went well, I thought. Strong rowing by 6s. Focussed on pulling all the way through, especially at that finish. On top of the other things I think about all the time. The pieces later on weren’t as good as I would have liked; we gave some seats up to the other 8. I think we were tired near the end.

Tomorrow:
Howe St Stairs. Probably another set of 10. Am contemplating doing push-ups in between sets, but we’ll see. If it’s raining I may head to the gym instead. I am doing The Big Climb (the aforementioned 69 flights), which is why I’ve gotten so friendly with the HSS lately. The StairClimber at the gym might be a good way to go so I can practice using the upper-body to hoist up the stairs, which isn’t so easy at HS.

So, that’s the recent update.

Fremont Four-Miler. Wet and messy

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Yesterday I posted about and mulled over Drew Ginn’s thoughts on a race plan. Today I raced, and most of those thoughts went out the window. Our race start time was 11:40, which, for the area we were racing, isn’t a good time. By this point, the wind picks up, the rest of the world wakes up and decides to tool around in their sailboats. It’s just messy.

The Fremont Four-Miler, as it suggests, is four miles long. In rowing terms, 6.4K. We weren’t even sure who else was racing in our category. Which means then that you have to row within yourself, imagine a competitor fighting for seats right next to you.

We are first in this flight and start with a building 3 that puts us right at the start line and away we go. We start strong, and take a big lead over the next boat. Following the first turn, towards the south end of Lake Union, some boats start their moves on us. There was still quite a few boat lengths in between us to make it difficult to tell if we were in danger. The danger actually came near the south end of the lake as the water got choppier and choppier. In addition to really bad water conditions, we were forced to fight against the human element as well. Apparently someone was holding sailing classes, so a launch waked us big time, throwing water right over our bow. As we trudged along the east side of the lake, and with these conditions, it really was trudging, Melissa called for us to stop. A sail boat crossed our line and she had to stop us before we hit. We yelled at them that we’re racing … it was completely ridiculous. We picked it up again but the water was continuing to battle us. It was in the bad water that we continued to gain against the other boats, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

The water didn’t calm down until we got past Gas Works Park. At that point it was crucial to forget the fact that I was soaked to the bone, that the oar was hard to handle because it was wet and my hands were wet. That the boat had lost its aggressiveness at the catch and that we had done our best to just continue on. That we were tired and my arms were tired just trying to battle the winds and the wakes. It’s crucial to focus in, leave the rest behind, and pull.

I tried to pull. Did my best to follow the rower in front of me, and to give what I had left to give. Melissa gave the call to raise the stroke rate twice in the last 500m or so. By this time it was obvious we had a huge gap of time before the next boats. Any of them. But we went with the legs and the faster hands to raise the rate, and did it one more time before the final 20 and the loud horn telling us it was over.

Probably the worst water I can remember racing in. There was nothing you can do about it. Just hope that you’re prepared, technique-wise and fitness-wise. As our cox’n likes to tell us, every boat is going to face the same conditions. We just need to do it better.

We did, I think. But man, it was messy. Wet and messy. I’ll update this with results when they are posted online.

In the meantime, here are a few photos I took of the Masters races that happened in the flight before ours. Most of the pics I took turned too fuzzy to bother with. As always, Green Lake Crew took a bunch of great pics.

Update – the results were just posted. In the Womens Masters 8 our crew placed first, with a time of 28:32:61. In the Womens Open 8 we also placed first, with a time of 26:56:03. Our mens team also placed … in the mens masters 8, second. And in the Mens Masters 4, first.

no, but seriously. what’s the race plan?

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From Drew Ginn’s blog (sic):

“We have in our minds key point of a race where certain things can take place, certain opportunities realised. The race plan should keep your options open which is exciting and creates anticipation and is a great source of energy. On the other hand a poorly conceived, ill considered and unrealistic plan can have an effect in opposition to every athletes desires.”

His words hit the mark when referring to racing. It’s interesting how close it comes to life outside the boat, too.

BTW, the four-miler is tomorrow. Will report back on results.

Work, play

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This morning at practice we did the Head of the Lake course twice. Since our boathouse is near the finish line, we did the course in reverse first, then did the official route from start to finish for the second piece. Paddled in some areas for safety (fog and cautious turns). When we reached Lake Washington, close to Husky Stadium, we could hear the Husky Marching Band practicing. At 7 in the morning, or whatever time it was. Probably right around 7. It’s not every day, that you wake up at 5:40 in the a.m., can watch a beautiful sunrise on a rare, clear, autumn day in Seattle, and on top of that, be serenaded by a marching band. You have to cherish it.

Anyway, on to more important things … Lunch, while watching Huskies football:


Three-bean chili (from the Market) with a few Guacamole Chips and saltine crackers. The guac chips I ate separately. The saltines I mixed in.

The husband’s lunch: Chicken & avocado on panini roll with a side of Samuel Smith:

rowing beneath an amazing night sky

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Yesterday started with practice at 5 a.m. Generally I dislike early morning practices this late in the season because it’s dark when you get out there, and the sun is barely rising when you head back in.

Yesteday it was a beautiful night sky and a brilliant Seattle skyline. Incredibly clear sky with stars so bright it was sometimes hard to maintain focus in the boat. I was very nearly sure I had spotted several shooting stars within the first 20 minutes or so of being on Lake Union. Later on our coach said something about a meteor shower … I never saw anything in the news to confirm it. The husband suggested that maybe the shower wasn’t exactly planned. At any rate, 4 or 5 shooting stars. Or something. Can’t recall seeing one of those since I was at Camp Jewell in 7th grade.

Tuesday was sunny and wonderfully warm. Highs in the 70s. What a wonderful relief from the gray, foggy, cloudy, rainy weather that is October. Through March. April … and sometimes May. How lucky we are!

Today I walked Max and it was pouring rain.

How lucky we were.

Practice: 3 x 10 minutes. Increasing the rates 4 min, 3 min, 2 min then 1 min. Varying rates between 24 and 32.
Our third piece was much improved over the first. That is the type of practice I prefer. 

That was sew 2005

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I am tired of swag.** When I receive swag from trade events, etc., I try to give it away or not accept them in the first place. I don’t like to accept things from companies, lest it appears that my journalistic integrity is compromised. I especially hate free t-shirts. I seem to not be able to get away from it, however, especially at work. There seems to be a t-shirt, jacket, or something for every all-hands meeting or team event out there.

The one free t-shirt I really wanted to wear, but never have, is the one I received when I raced in Opening Day in 2005. I see this more as a gift, like a ‘thank you for racing in this awesome event.’ And since it’s an invitational, it’s not like the 5K fun run where anyone can sign up and everyone gets the “free t-shirt” that really isn’t free, since you’re paying the race entry fee. I was more than OK with receiving a t-shirt for Opening Day (truth be told, I was REALLY excited for getting a gold medal since I was racing with an awesomely fast crew). Only thing was, out of all of the shirts we received, just one was a small, for the coxswain, of course. There might have been a men’s medium here or there, but somehow I ended up with a Men’s XL. What the hell am I supposed to do with a Men’s XL?

Well, I think it was Jody from rowing who triggered the idea to just tailor it so it would fit. That was two years ago. Today I actually did the dirty work. I also hemmed an apron that the husband purchased at Crate and Barrel last year during a post-holiday sale. It’s only taken me 10 months to do that. Yay.

Below is a pic of the shirt I trimmed, laid on top of a Men’s Large shirt:

That’s just a Large. Originally, the XL (and, yes, I should have snapped a shot before I cut it up but who thinks ahead like that?) was much larger. I cut 7 inches from the bottom; I took in 3.25 inches from both sides. I basically had to get rid of the short sleeves altogether, and then sewed up the arm holes another 3 inches on each side. Then I cut off the collar ring (what the heck do you call that thing?)

Voila! It only took 2.5 years.

I can’t wear this to many other places than the gym. But, hey, a new gym shirt. Yay gym!

**On a side note … SWAG, according to Wikipedia, stands for “Samples, Wearables and Gifts”. I always thought it meant “Shit We All Get”.

Working it with the Moms

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This isn’t meant to be a journal of my workouts. So I don’t want you to think that I report on every one. I don’t. I have a pen/paper journal where I record everything, and I mean everything. Each erg workout, cardio workout, lifting workout and each practice. Which means it’s also quite obvious when I haven’t been working out, as the dates get further apart on each page. Here, I tend to report on workouts that stick on me. Days when I’m so frustrated or so elated that I feel the need to get it down in words.

Yesterday morning I lifted (another circuit-like workout focusing on pull-ups (assisted); dead lifts; push ups and Yates rows. And then of abs/core (crunches; side-to-side rotations w/a 10 lb medicine ball; leg lifts). Which meant that this morning I woke up slightly sore. Generally after dead lifts, my hamstrings are tight. I’m also feeling it in my abs, and a little bit in my pecs. Where it should be. I never think a circuit is going to be hard, but I was sweating the entire way.

Anyway, this leads to this morning’s practice: Kate put out 2 even 8s, and we did 3 – 4 minute pieces against the Martha’s Moms at varying rates, specifically vs. their Charles boat. Pieces weren’t great. Water was rough until we hit the Canal, and rowing 6 across in the Canal is a terrible idea, thus tension mounted and oars crashed.

Our final piece, 3 minutes at a 34, ended well, which made me feel better about some poorer pieces earlier. I, personally, was having problems getting my hands away. I have scratches and red marks on my legs, which is an obvious indicator that my legs were coming up way early. Bad bad bad.

The Moms are tough cookies. Lynn mentioned afterwards as we were waiting in line at Peet’s for coffee that they appreciate having us sit next to them and put the pressure on. They are racing (I suspect) a 50+ boat, and while we certainly did put on the pressure I had hoped we could have walked through them more quickly and consistently, considering we were several years younger. On the other hand, our boat lineups were not race lineups, but more mixed, meaning the more advanced racers were combined with the less-experienced. So, we held our own against what is potentially the best and brightest of the Moms. So, in all, decent, but wished it was better.

Bad practice or good, the coffee talk following a Saturday morning practice is always worth going all out on the last piece. See Mr. Ginn’s post on a very similar ritual.