Last Practice Before San Diego

Tuesday evening:  Last practice on the lake before San Diego Crew Classic.  Tomorrow morning, the boat will be de-rigged and on its way to San Diego.

Tuesday night practices can be tough mentally because for many of us, it is the end of a long work day and all we want to do is simply decompress, relax, and sit back with cocktails in hand.  When everybody is coming from a different place--a good day at work, a bad day at work, a long day with the kids, a tiring day running errands, it is hard to all be focused on the same page.  5AM practices are so much easier.  We all come from the same place, a nice, warm, comfortable bed.  The stress and anxiety of life have not caught up with us yet and we can dedicated ourselves to our work ahead on the water.

This evening, we had our SDCC eight, 1 quad, and 1 men's single out on the water.  The Bay Blades also had a quad out.  The water was flat, but wind was still blowing, strong enough to occasionally upset the set of the boat.  Chris had us warm up around the lake until we felt like we warmed up.  He had us vote as to when we felt ready.  Sitting in stroke seat, I cannot see behind me.  I do not know how the rest of the boat voted, but I raised my hand after we had done almost one full lake loop that included 10s and about five start sequences.  I believe that it is important to practice starts during the warm-up, but starts with the high strokes can take a lot out of your legs and if you are not careful, your fresh legs will quickly turn into leaden legs at the actual start.

The workout today was 6x500m.  The first three pieces were with starts, high strokes, and settle.  The last three were with the sprint.  Our SDCC coxswain was gone today, and we had a substitute coxswain who was hanging on for dear life.  I could see the whites of her knuckles as she grasped onto the rope.  Talk about a death grip!  Sometimes it is harder to steer a boat straight than it is to follow the lake and do lake loops.

On the first piece, we had a start and settled afterward, but did not find much rhythm.  My forearms burned, and my lower back felt the heaviness of the boat as we were all trying to, as Chris calls it, "weight-lift" with each stroke.  Chris' "weight-lifting" describes when we are trying to apply astronomical power to each stroke and make a big effort out of it.  Weight-lifting might be okay for a power 10 or if you are a heavyweight man with a really strong back, but for us and for 2,000m at a high rate, we want to be quick and light.

For the next two pieces, the starts were bad with the boat down the one side or the other and the timing at the finish off.  Our poor coxswain was trying really hard to keep her course, make calls, and read the rating and power from the speed coach.  500m pieces are never meant to feel good because often, you are at a higher rate and higher intensity than what you will row during your 2,000m race.  Feeling good is a bonus.  There were some concerns and I feel, some frustration in the boat around the fluctuating splits from the speed coach.  The splits on a speed coach are similar to the splits that the erg displays; both are designed to tell you how fast you are going.  The erg measures power (in units of watts), which it translates into an estimated speed, while the speed coach directly measures speed (in units of minutes per 500 meters).  It would be wonderful if we could get consistent splits on the water, but many factors, besides our effort and power, can affect the speed coach splits.  Wind, current, technique, steering can all be factors.  Sometimes I rather not row with a speed coach because I already know what to focus on when I row, and that speech coach number is not one of them.  If I really wanted to measure my consistency of power, I would erg.  These pieces were really meant to push us beyond our comfort zone in order to simulate what it will feel like in the actual race.

The last three pieces started with a three stroke build right into race rate followed by a sprint in the last 200m.  Our coxswain did not know where exactly to call the sprint and how to call it, but I think everyone in the boat knew what to do.  Sit-up, bring the rate up, and get the blades in.  Our coxswain called the sprint for each of the pieces at a different point in the 500m, and she might have called it too early for one or two of the pieces.  It was good practice though because in an actual race, the sprint will feel like an eternity of pain, and 200 meters will feel like 2,000 meters.  Sometimes the coxswain might underestimate the distance and call "last 10 strokes" when there are actually 15 strokes left.  It does not matter however many strokes are left because you are going to keep rowing, look ahead, and resist the temptation to crank your neck around, desperately searching for the finish line.

At the end of practice, I "lost" it a little.  Weeks of stress and self-questioning all came in at once.  I wondered if I had built a big enough fitness base in those dark, dreary days of December and January when San Diego seemed so far away.  I wondered if I had done enough race pieces and interval workouts in the rainy days of February and March to be able to handle the high rates for 2,000m.  I wondered if I had dragged myself often enough to those dreaded lunchtime ergs to work on power, consistency, and mental toughness.  I wondered if the race two years ago will continue to haunt me.  I wondered if in those moments of pain and in those moments when the boat might not feel so good, I would believe.  Believe in my fitness, in the work that I have done, and in the fact that I can race and not just train. 

It is not about whether we can win or whether we can go to the Olympics.  It is about believing that when our coxswain asks for our best, we fulfill our end of the commitment.  And we do have a reason to believe.  All the ergs, 6x500m, 3xrace pieces, 4'/3'/2'/1', starts, sprints that we have done are a reason to believe.