Head of the American 2011 - Part 1

Valuable lessons are often learned the hard way. 

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Beautiful day at Lake Natoma for Head of the American

If you have never been to the Head of the American (HOA) at Lake Natoma near Sacramento, the course is beautiful with only one gradual turn and water that is only mildly disturbed.  The wind is typically a tailwind and only on occasion becomes a headwind or becomes treacherous. 

The regatta itself is usually run with impeccable efficiency, but as with many large regattas, it is can become what Chris calls a “madhouse.”  Being a madhouse is one of the reasons HOA is so great—there are competitors who travel from LA, San Diego, Oregon, or sometimes even farther.  

HOA is THE Northern California head race.  Newport Autum Rowing Festival (NARF) is THE head race for Southern California, drawing crews from the Bay Area, Arizona, and farther.  Between the two, you are to find some tough competition.

Two weekends ago, I learned and re-learned a number of valuable lessons at HOA.

#1.  Always be prepared.  Better to be prepared the night before.

The preparation for a race should begin the night before—packing the clothes, gear, and food that you will need.  The night before HOA, however, my husband and I took the Princess to a wonderful Halloween costume event at the Palo Alto Children’s zoo.  Thankfully, the Princess already had a nice, pink Chinese-styled outfit that we could pass off as a costume.  What was she dressed as?  A Chinese princess, Chinese girl, Chinese doll, Chinese screaming terror.  Whatever works.

The Princess at Halloween,
wearing her Chinese outfit.

From the zoo, we stayed with my parents where Grandma and Grandpa could pander the Princess even more and hopefully give my husband a break from the Chinese screaming terror while I spent all of Saturday at HOA.

Needless to say, I was not very prepared for race day.  I had frantically thrown clothes into a bag before we left for the zoo, but did not have time to properly pack food, water, tools.  I had thought that I might be able to pack food from my parents’ house, but I had forgotten that they actually cook from scratch and did not usually have pre-made food ready to go.  A bundle of raw bok choy was not going to cut it.  I grabbed some apples and bananas and left the house at five in the morning. 

I managed to grab a coffee and some oatmeal from Starbucks.  My mixed doubles (Mx2x) partner also was much better prepared than me and kindly shared some delicious, homemade date and fig bars. 

It is not as if I would have starved.  Regattas typically have food vendors and clubs usually have a pile of community food to share.  From my lightweight days and binges after weigh-ins, however, I learned that I want to eat things that are fresh and make me feel good instead of eating heavy pastries or mouth-watering baked goods.  My team also loved to eat peanut butter, which is a great race day fuel, but not when you eat spoonful after spoonful of it.

Old photo from college, eating peanut butter

I also did not bring enough water.  I had half-anticipated the weather to be mild and cool, but weather was relatively warm for a late fall day in California.  Before my first race, I had already drunk all my water and forgot to get more before our hurried launch.  Luckily, we were able to snag a small water bottle from the BIAC team, but had the day been any warmer, that small bottle would not have been enough.

#2.  Never underestimate how much stress and nerves can unnerve you.

HOA is a huge regatta and amidst all the chaos and distractions, you have to be able to manage your own equipment, time, fueling, check-ins, weigh-ins, anything that could go wrong and still get to the start line on time.  When you have a coach to help you, things are a bit easier and the coach usually has all the bow numbers, safety pins, extra tools, electrical tape, race plan, hands-on and launch times ready.

I had forgotten how lonely, chaotic, and overall, more stressful it can be as a sculler without the supervision of a coach.  My first race was the masters 2x at noon followed by the open 1x three hours later.  The timing should have been enough, even luxurious, but I had squandered much of the morning catching up with old acquaintances, helping out, and scrambling for the little things, as seen from my lack of preparation (Lesson #1).  In addition, my Mx2x partner had a race at 10:30 and did not get off the water until 11:10.

By the time we hurriedly beach-launched (launching directly into the water and not from a dock), it was already 11:30.  Mentally, I was in near panic.  I knew there was a significant penalty to being late to the start and without having been on the course yet, I was unsure of how much time it would take to get there.  Thankfully, my Mx2x partner was of a much calmer mind and we arrived to the start with about five minutes to spare.

There were only two other boats in my 1x race and coincidentally, I knew both rowers personally.  After I had started rowing in college, I spent the subsequent summer in the Los Angeles area, rowing out of a small boat club.  There, I met the two rowers separately, and we all had the same coaches at some point or other.  Then, I had looked at them, as someone who gazes off at the moon, something so far and out of reach.  Although the two were at different points of their rowing careers, both were motivated and strong with a large amount of potential.  And I was not sure where in the picture I fit in. 

I had never raced them before, and HOA was the first chance in the five years since.  I wanted to race well against them, to see how far I had progressed and maybe places where I lacked.  Racing well means having your head in the game, being prepared, and eating up pain like it was good for you.  Although I am much more experienced now than five years ago, the stress, nerves, panic, and distractions before the race were a good reminder that there is still a lot that I have to master as a racer.

#3.  If you race in a men’s race, don't expect to make any friends.

Due to the order of events and timing between them, my Mx2x partner and I raced in a Men’s Masters 2x instead of the usual Mixed Masters 2x.  Now instead of having to pull my weight and age, I had to pull my weight, age, and sex. 

When we arrived at the start, we had about five minutes to spare (see Lesson #2), but our event was already lined up—eight other men's doubles ready to go.  As I steered the boat to cross the buoys into the starting area, the official flagged me down and told us to not cross, but proceed down to where other boats were continuing their warm-up. 

For a moment I was confused about why the official would not allow us to line up with the other men’s doubles.  Then, I remembered that we were probably the ones to confuse him.  The mixed 2x race was not for another hour or so.  

I replied to him that we were in this race, pointing to the other men’s doubles.  He looked down at his sheet and looked up, “You are in this race?  Men’s masters double?”  I responded, “Yes, we are.  Yes, I know.”  We were clear to line up, fourth boat to start. 

By this time and by the small commotion that we created, all the other boats were curious and we turned to find ourselves being stared at.  The stares became incredulous looks as they realized that we were in their race.  To top it off, my Mx2x partner who had done his research on the competition was feeling particular convivial and tried to strike up a conversation with the previous champions of this race, a crew from Ashland who had a massive age handicap on us and who looked none the pleased to race a mixed boat.

Typically in rowing, the two genders do not mix unless it is an explicitly stated mixed race where at least half the boat must consist of women.  On occasion, however, rowers can race “up”, i.e. race in a more competitive category.  For instance, women can race in men’s races and lightweights can race in heavyweight races, but not the reversed.  Just remember that if you are a woman racing in a men’s race, none of the men will be too thrilled.

It felt good to actually start racing so that everyone would stop looking over at our boat.  We started strong and settled into a good rhythm.  The boat ahead of us was struggling and we passed them quickly.  The next 1000 meters were spent catching the San Francisco Bay Blades double, one boat with friendly faces.  Then, if I almost completely turned around, I could see the Ashland boat much farther ahead of us.  I tried to make calls to focus on things that would generate more speed in the boat.  Sometimes the boat responded, and sometimes the set was just slightly off or our strokes not clean enough to gain more ground.  For much of the race, the Ashland boat had significant amount of open water. 

With about 1500 meters to go, I could see that the distance had closed, and I called a twenty, thinking that we would be able to catch them quickly.  I could see their boat moving away from the buoy line, the shortest course, and it seemed like they were yielding that course to us.  I severely overestimated our speed and underestimated their determination.  They hung onto that lead with about two lengths of open water and moved back towards the buoy line.  

In about the last 1000 meters, we took the buoy line and quickly closed on them.  From there, I could see them in the corner of my eye and we were soon bow-to-stern.  We could hear shouting and cheering from the shore, and I think I even heard my name.  We continued to move up, but for every stroke that we willed to propel us ahead, it felt like they dug deeper and fought harder.  We fought for every inch down the stretch and crossed the line just 1.1 seconds after them. 

My initial gut reaction was disappointment.  Disappointed that we needed every stroke of that race to count and that there were strokes in there that we could have done better.  Disappointed that when it came down to the end, we were not able to edge them out.  Disappointed that maybe if I had just given a little more, sat up a little taller we would have had them.

With a more perspective and level-headedness, we raced really well.  We started strong, were consistent, and finished strong.  Just a little more speed and quickness in the last 500 meters might have been enough to cross the line first, but you cannot ask for something that you do not have.  In the end, crossing the line would not have given us a win.  Due to the age handicap, we needed almost two more minutes to win.

Mens Masters 2x Final

1. Ashland - 17:29.97 (raw - 20:26.17; finish time at 12:20:42.60
2. BIAC/LMRC - 19:20.65 (raw - 19:28.45; finish time at 12:20:43.73)
3. MRA - 19:27.87 (raw - 20:59.77)
4. OARS - 20:24.54 (raw - 21:56.44)
5. RCRC - 20:58.35 (raw - 23:29.05)
6. Stan RC - 22:47.28 (raw - 24:00.68)
7. SFBB - 23:37.10 (raw - 23.37.10)
8. SRC - 25:50.05 (raw - 26:03.05)
9. PCDW - 30:01.64 (raw - 20:23.94)

Regatta results can be found here.