Farewell San Diego

You can read about our San Diego Crew Classic race here, and you can read about my personal disappointment here.

I had fun in San Diego with friends and teammates.  Baby, husband, zoo, grocery stores (made a total of four grocery trips in the three days that I was in San Diego), dogs, parks, crew.  We boarded the plane last night, looking like the typical San Diego tourists--sunburned and wearing shirts and visors with "San Diego" printed all over.  I am looking forward to next year's Crew Classic.

The Princess pointing at some random zoo animal.
She did more people watching than animal watching.

Great time at the park

Family and friend at race course

The Princess "running" wild on the beach

Farewell San Diego

Personal Disappointment

I have already posted about our San Diego race, which you can find here.  As a boat, I believe that although we did not have the best row, we did have a solid row.  As an individual and as stroke seat, however, I do have some personal disappointment.

I can say with much relief and pleasure that this year's race will erase the bad memories of the race two years ago.  I am more confident in stroking and in high rates, but from this year's race, I am disappointed in my stroking.  There are three types of stroke seats.  The first is the stroke who does not belong in stroke seat because this person for whatever reason is difficult to follow, has no rhythm, or is not consistent.  You always wonder what the hell the coach is thinking putting this person in stroke seat.  The second is the good, but not great stroke.  This person is usually consistent and easy to follow.  The third is the stroke who was born to stroke.  You sit behind this person and you just know that you do not have to worry about rhythm, ratio, rate; all you have to worry about is pulling.

I am of the second type, a good stroke, but not a great stroke.  I am a solid stroke, but not a brilliant stroke.  In the race, with the help of our coxswain, I was able to settle into an okay rhythm, strong, but not amazing.  No matter what the coxswain called and no matter what I did, I was not able to use my rhythm and rate to find more speed in the boat.

I have read and heard about the third type of stroke, those who were born to stroke.  These strokes intuitively know what to do in a race to use their stroking to find more speed in the boat.  In the The Amateurs: The Story of Four Young Men and Their Quest for an Olympic Gold Medal, one of the Olypmic hopefuls is John Biglow from Yale University.  During one of his college years, Biglow is the stroke for the Yale boat in the famous Harvard-Yale Boat Race, a four mile dual race and the oldest athletic competition in the United States.  In this race, Biglow strokes the boat brilliantly, knowing exactly when to bring the rate down or up and what to do when his boat is behind.  I have also been told that our former coach and former elite rower, Dede, is of the third type of stroke.  I have never rowed behind her, only right front of her in a quad where she can see all my bad mistakes and let me know exactly what I am doing wrong.  With her years of experience and sheer determination, I can only imagine what it must be like to row behind her. 

All rowers know, however, that in an eight, one person alone, no matter how amazing, cannot win the race for the boat.  Even with John Biglow stroking brilliantly, Yale did not win the Boat Race that year.  And even with Dede stroking, not all her boats win.

After the race, Chris mentioned that if we were to look at the line-ups of the other boats, particularly of the top two boats, Lake Union and BMA Cornell, we would find many strong rowers with extensive rowing credentials.  Yes, I knew for a fact, going into the race, that many rowers in the other boats had better rowing credentials that us.  I knew for a fact, going in, that the BMA Cornell boat won the Masters eight at the Head of the Charles last year and that two hours before our race, BMA, probably the same line-up, won the Club eight.  I knew for a fact, that there was at least one former Olympian and National Team member in that boat.  But I do not care what your rowing credentials look like because even if you are a former Olympian or National Team member, you still have to train and practice, like the rest of us mortals, to race well.

I was disappointed in myself because when we lined up and raced, I discovered that my one-eighth of the boat was no where near the top competition.  Chris talked about "those other strong rowers" who are bigger, faster, more experienced and illustrious than us, and I just think in my head, "Why do we have to say those, them, they?  Why can we not be like 'them'?  Why can we not be one of 'those' rowers?  I do not want to be average.  I want to out-train them.  I want to have every right to be 'them.'"

No More, No Less

San Diego Crew Classic, Sunday, April 3, 2011, Event 97, Women's Masters B Eight.  You can watch the race here as seen on the Jumbotron at SDCC.  The best shot of Lake Merritt is 5:00 minutes into the video.

Our boat--Event 97, Lane 5

Women's Masters B Final Results
1.  Lake Union  7:36.00
2.  BMA Cornell  7:36.96
3.  Marin  7:49.69
4.  Boulder  7:52.93
5.  Lake Merritt  7:54.94
6.  Avalon  8:10.77
7.  LARC  8:32.22
All race results can be found here.

Everybody says that rowing is a niche sport and that it is hard to find people who understand the sport of rowing.  That is usually true until you come to an event like San Diego Crew Classic or the Head of the Charles where there are thousands of competitors, coaches, ex-rowers, alumni, family, friends who all know the difference between port and starboard and that crew is the sport of rowing and not "crewing."  If you are like me, just another competitor, you will start to feel very small, towered over by ex-Olympians, current National Team-ers, coaches with multiple national titles under their belts, and other very big, important rowing people.  I am always so awe-struck to see these people who will never know me, but whom I know from every detail published in Rowing News.

Saturday afternoon was spent watching various races including the two heats that East Bay Rowing competed in.  After the last race of the day, our team got hands on the boat and went out for a short practice.  During our warm-up, the boat felt a little rusty, which is typical after a few rest days, hence the reason for a practice row before the race.  The practice was not amazing, but it was good enough to get us more comfortable in this new body of water and to get our bodies re-familiarized with rowing.

Since our race was not until 1:40PM, we had a late start and arrived at the race course at 10:30AM to watch other races and to get settled in.  At 12:15PM, we had a team meeting.  Chris touched on the usual pep talk topics--making sure we leave it out on the water, looking ahead at stern pair.  Our coxswain talked about not worrying about the exact rate that we hit and about really working hard the third 500m.  At 12:30PM, as the US men's national team was coming down the race course in an exhibition race, we launched.  We had a long warm-up and did almost three loops in the warm-up area at the start.

After the start of the Men's Master A race, we lined up in our lane--Lane 5.  As our coxswain predicted, we went to a countdown start.  In calm conditions and in a straight start where all boats start on the same command, the bow seat of the boat will raise her hand as the coxswain is getting her point.  Once the race official sees that all boats have their hands down, he will say the command, "Attention, go!"  A 5 second countdown start is sometimes used when the conditions are too windy to wait for all boats to have alignment because it will take too long to get all the boats ready.  By the time one boat is ready and the bow seat puts her hand down, another boat will have lost its point and that coxswain will have to make an adjustment.  In the countdown start, the official ignores all hands and goes straight to announcing, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, attention, go!"  Countdown starts can be flustering for the bow pair rowers who are often the ones making the small course adjustments and for the coxswain who is calling the adjustments because whether or not the bow pair and coxswain are ready, the race will start. 

I do not have the best memory when it comes to races, but here is my view from stroke seat.  Our first two strokes started out cleaner than most of the starts that we have had in practice.  We seemed to have trouble with the set on a few strokes in the high and settle.  I also remember that there was a lot of steering and course adjustments going on in the first 250m of the race.  Our first settle felt frantic, and our coxswain called a second settle, in which we found a better rhythm.  Our coxswain made a lot of calls, trying to move ahead and away from Lane 4, Boulder.  Boulder was slightly ahead, and I could feel them next to us the whole race.  I know that I did not look out of the boat at all because it was not until after the race did I even know what the Boulder boat looked like and what color uniforms the rowers wore. 

I remember the coxswain calling 750m down and then, calling the third 500m.  I remember her call for the last 500m and then, the call for 10 strokes for the legs before the sprint.  I remember the sprint and the rate coming up.  I remember her call for the last ten strokes, and I remember counting them in my head.  And then, it was over.

To me, the race went by pretty quickly.  The rhythm felt okay, but not spectacular.  The power was present, but the speed of the boat and the crispness of the blades was not there.  We hit the rates, we had a sprint, and there was no fly and die.  The boat moved; it just did not fly.  We had an okay row, not a perfect row.  It was no more, no less than what we have had in practice.  After the race, there was a sense of disappointment  that our race did not feel perfect and that we were not able to pull ahead of Boulder.  I have no doubt that everyone in the boat did her best and everyone wanted that perfect race and wanted to cross that line ahead of Boulder, but effort and desire do not always translate into efficiency and boat speed. 

Afterward, Chris talked about how maybe if we had rowed a perfect race, we would have caught the 3rd and 4th place boats, Marin and Boulder, respectively.  I find it useless to think about a perfect race because it is rare to have a perfect row in the race.  The winner of a race may not have had a perfect row, and the boat with the perfect row may not have won.  This is where those winter practices become so important, because it is those grueling hours of rowing, erging, weight lifting, cross training that build your base fitness.  You must have trained enough, be fast enough that even your okay row will be faster than your competition's perfect row.  You cannot expect to find speed and power that you never trained for.  Sometimes, there will be a miracle, but for the most part, the boat will only give you what you have worked for.  Miracles are rare, that is why they are called miracles.  This year, we got a fair trade at San Diego--no more, no less than what we trained for.

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.

Yams

I have mentioned before about this amazing ability that I have.  Well, this amazing ability becomes a problem during the week before a race when we taper.  Before a big race, most athletes go through a tapering phase where the volume and intensity of the workouts decrease in order to allow for sufficient rest and recovery.  If you time your tapering phase correctly, you should feel relatively "fresh" on race day.

I often find tapering challenging for two reasons.  First, with shorter and fewer workouts, I accumulate a lot of nervous energy, thinking about the upcoming race.  Second, tapering makes me want to EAT, but it is just as important not to overeat as it is to be properly fueled!  Since I cannot relieve the anxiety by working out, I want to use food to help me relax.  We are still working out and maybe still doing intervals, but we are not burning as many calories as during normal training.  This morning, we did 2x2,000m on the water, but have you ever wondered how many calories you burn?  Have you ever looked at the calories/hour reading on the erg after a 2,000m erg piece?  The last time I checked, I burned only 140 calories for my 2k erg test.  All that work for 140 calories.  That is nothing!  That is half of a normal ice cream sandwich or half a cup of cooked pasta or a slice of whole grain toast with peanut butter thinly spread across.  I could eat that in two bites.  Concept2 has a good calories burned calculator that takes weight into account, if you are ever interested.

As San Diego Crew Classic approaches, Chris has reminded us several times to take care of ourselves--making sure we rest and recover before and after hard workouts, getting enough sleep, and staying healthy.  For me, another aspect to that is eating well, healthy.  I try to cut back on my processed foods and eat more wholesome, natural foods.  Recently, I have had this insane craving for yams, but not any particular yam.  PURPLE YAMS.  Two weeks ago, my parents baked purple yams that were so delicious.  These yams are dark purple on the outside and bright purple on the inside.  The texture is smoother and less stringy than the normal orange yams, and the taste is sweeter.

This past weekend, I was determined to eat purple yams.  I actually thought about these purple yams all day Friday on my way home from Ohio.  Then, on Saturday, I made a special trip to Safeway to buy the yams.  Well, Safeway only had the normal orange yams.  With the Princess refusing to stay seated in her nice little seat in the front of the grocery cart, I made a hurried decision and grabbed a big bag of orange yams.  When my husband saw my seven pounds of yam, he was not amused.  He has seen me go through phases where I am obsessed with a certain food and buy tons of it only to lose interest a week later.  I have gone through a Lean Cuisine frozen dinner phase, a butternut squash phase, a cottage cheese phase, a vegetarian chili phase, a smoked salmon phase.  There is only one thing that my husband hates more than wasting food, and that is having to help me eat all the food that I buy in huge quantities before it goes bad.  And he is not a fan of yams (nor of Chinese food as I found out after we got married).

Normal, orange yams

I baked all seven pounds of yam and probably ate about half of that on my own before realizing that I was sick of eating these yams and that I still wanted purple yams!

Sunday, after practice, I went to Whole Foods to get these special purple yams.  Whole Foods had two types of yams--the normal type and a type called "Japanese yams."  I was again in somewhat of a hurry and quickly grabbed a big bag, i.e. another seven pounds, of the Japanese yams, which were purple on the outside.  I could almost taste these yams on the way home.  Another unamused look from my husband who did not fail to remind me that this was the third time I went to the grocery store this week.  To my utter horror when I went to bake these Japanese yams, they were NOT purple yams.  Inside, they were a soft whitish-yellow. 

My seven pounds of Japanese yams, minus the four yams that I already put into the oven

Definitely NOT purple on the inside

I am still fixed on getting those purple yams at some point in time, after I finish all the yams I have at home.  Luckily, I have two things in my favor.  First, the Japanese yams taste pretty good and I have not gotten tired of eating them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  Second, although my husband has so far refused to help me eat the yams, I have found a willing helper in the Princess!  She has no problem helping herself to some yam, purple or not purple.

Race Pieces

This morning, our SDCC eight rowed out on the estuary in order to practice straight 2,000m (no turns!) and to piece with the East Bay Rowing (formerly JLAC) women's SDCC eight.  The estuary was in rare form this morning--beautiful, calm, and pretty flat.  The East Bay Rowing men had an eight out and the Cal Lights had 2 fours and 2 eights out too.

We had a short and somewhat frantic warm-up to the start line.  The workout was 2x2,000m full race pieces.  Before practice, Chris gave us a pep talk about the pieces we were going to do.  I, unfortunately, missed the first half of the talk because I was using the port-a-potty (very important to use the bathroom before any race pieces!), but I think I caught the gist.  Essentially, Chris wanted us to hit high rates, to be aggressive, and to just walk away from and bury the other eight.  Think of this as San Diego.  There was an almost panicked, fired-up feeling to our warm-up probably due to several factors--Chris' pep talk, us being used to a full lake loop of warm-up (about 3,000m), and a substitute coxswain.  It is important to be properly warmed up for a race and to hit high rates so that your body becomes familiar with the lactic acid.  There are times, however, when your warm-up might be cut short due to getting to the start line late or changes in race times.  What I think about in those situations is this: I have to trust in my fitness.  I can do zero to sixty.

For the first piece, we had a countdown start where the coaches counted down from 30.  East Bay's boat, which had an older average age, left on the "27," and we left on the "22."  In masters rowing, there are some races where instead of tagging the age handicap at the end of the race, there is a countdown start that accounts for the age handicap.  That way, the first boat to cross the line is the winner and nobody has to wait for the age handicap to be calculated into the finish times.  Our race at Crew Classic is the Masters B race, which has a straight start since all the boats must make a certain age average.  East Bay Rowing's race, however, is a club race, which has a countdown start.

The first piece had a rough start and few course corrections in the first 20 strokes.  Amidst the chaos, I think we did hit some of the high rates, but we settled to a lower rate about 400m in.  There was indescribable pain in this piece.  Sometimes the boat is just not going to feel "good," and in those moments, you have to just go no matter what.  Limits are meant to be pushed during a race and it probably will not feel very good at all, but you still have to keep your head on straight and your mind in the game.  Halfway through the piece, there was a slight drop in speed, but I do not think the drop came from lack of effort from our boat, but rather a small disconnect between the catch and drive, almost like a change in technique.

During a race, one of the most difficult things to do is to hold onto your technique.  This is one of the major differences between rowing on the water and rowing on the erg.  Rowing on the water--if your technique falls apart and you are missing water at the catch or coming out early at the finish, it does not matter how hard you are trying or how determined you are to win.  There is a lot of wasted energy, and you are not moving the boat effectively.  Rowing on the erg--if your technique falls apart, but you are still pulling really hard, the erg will reward you and your split will go down.  It takes a lot of practice, focus, and core strength to hang onto that technique.

With about 500m left to go, someone, not the coxswain, in the boat yelled out loud, "Com'on."  I can tell you upfront that I am not a fan of people shouting in the boat.  There are some situations where it might be appropriate and maybe helpful in "rallying" the troops, but I usually find it disruptive.  First, shouting and yelling is the coxswain's job.  Second, shouting tells me that you have the breath to shout.  I do not know about you, but in a race piece, I am pretty breathless.  Third, shouting can "rally" up the troops in the wrong way.  For instance, today, after the shout, the boat started to bring the rate up, almost like a sprint.  Well, I can be honest and say that I do not have the fitness to sprint for 500 meters at a 36spm.  Maybe in my next life when I am French (the French, especially the lightweight men, are apparently well-known for their high rates...in the 40s...).

We started the second piece together with the East Bay Rowing boat, no countdown start.  I do not remember the start too well (see memory loss), but I think the boat was a little rocky.  The rhythm came easier on this piece, and the strokes felt a bit lighter.  According to Chris, we made our biggest move in the last 500m as the rate was coming up. 

Counting down to San Diego.

Ready GO!

Tuesday: Ready for a long day?  Ready GO!  6AM swim, 8AM work conference call, work, pick up the Princess, pack, ROW, shower, drive to airport, fly to OHIO on a red-eye!

This morning's swim set was a building your base set with a focus on legs.

1.  5x200yds free with overkick (slow arms, big legs) the last 25, 25, 50, 50, 75yds, respectively
2.  5x25yd flutter kick with fins, fast (as Marcia says, "Try to beat somebody!")
3.  4x25yd fly with fins, fast

The 5x200yds was a great set to focus on distance, and the overkick at the end took more out of you than you would think.  Then, anything with fins is great for me.  With fins, I feel like I could race Michael Phelps.  Well, maybe not really, but I could probably race my Cal Triathlon friend, Daniela, who is an amazing swimmer and overall athlete.  Of course, she would not be allowed to wear fins or else it would not be a fair fight.

Daniela and I in our wetsuits before the Cal Poly Triathlon

This evening, the lake was windy and the rain clouds looked menacing.  Out on the water during practice, we had our SDCC eight with one substitute rower, 1 mixed quad, 3 Bay Blade singles, and 1 Bay Blade quad.  We did a full lake loop warm-up in preparation for the main workout--3x1,000m pieces with starts, settle, and sprint at full pressure, simulating race pieces. 

During the first 1,000m piece, our start, high strokes, and settle went off alright.  Coming out of the finger, however, there was a strong crosswind and the boat seemed to lose its composure for a few strokes.  We got most of the rhythm back, but there was still a frantic feeling in the boat.  Right after we settled, I could feel the lactic acid that had accumulated from the start and high strokes, and I thought, "Oh, shit.  I HATE racing.  I hate the feeling of dying.  I hate the noise and the coxswain who is asking for more.  After this piece, this practice, this race, I am going to retire from rowing."  Ha, retire.  I know that these thoughts are the product of the pain, and like the pain, these thoughts too will pass.

On the second piece, we had a rough start with frantic high strokes.  After the first 400m, we finally settled to a nicer rhythm, even with the cross wind.  We did alright in the sprint.  The last piece was solid with a sprint that managed to hit some of the higher rates that Chris has been asking for.  I have great admiration for my friend, Amber.  Amber and I rowed together on the Cal Lightweight Crew team before Amber had to quit the team for financial and academic reasons.  Amber is a fighter and has always been an inspiration to me.  After going through a rough patch recently, she said to me, "Life really sucks for me right now.  But you know what? I am going to fucking win.  Because if I do not keep telling myself that, life will win instead."  In the last 500m of the last piece, that was all I could think of--I am going to fucking win.

Amber and me at my wedding

To me, these interval pieces at high rates never feel good, but it does feel good to get a few under our belts for San Diego!

Sluggish Monday

Two weeks to San Diego.  Can you tell my anxiety?  Are we ready?  Am I ready?

This morning, the weekend rain left us with a flat, calm lake—beautiful water.  We had the SDCC eight with two substitute rowers and 1 men’s single on the water this morning.  During the warm-up, we practiced a drill that Chris calls “Long, longer, longest.”  By six’s, the boat rows three short catches only strokes followed by a fourth full, long stroke. The focus of the drill is catch timing, full compression at the catch, and no lunging to get extra reach.  I am not sure that “Long, longer, longest” is the best name for the drill because I did not get it when Chris first mentioned the drill.  Anyone have another name?

The first piece that we did was two main lake loops of steady state at 24-26spm.  For the most part, we sat at a 24spm, unable to get the rate higher.  With a slow and sluggish drive, the boat was not exactly flying through the water.  Next, we did a loop of 10 strokes on, 10 strokes off with the 10 on strokes at higher rates.  Chris repeatedly emphasized that we need to be comfortable getting straight to the high rates without spending five, six, seven strokes building.  At high rates, everything needs to happen faster—the finish, the slide, the catch, and the drive.  Chris mentioned a phrase that is new to me, “admiring the finish,” which is when your hands pause at the finish as if someone is holding your oar back and I guess, admiring the finish.  Admiring the finish can upset the set of the boat and the rower can end up rushing the slide.

Ever feel totally un-rejuvenated after the weekend?  Today, I feel like that even after two cups of coffee.  Between visiting family and the Cal Lightweight Crew Alumni Day, I took Sunday off.  I was hoping that Alumni day would help re-inspire me and remind me why I row.  It was great to see familiar faces, all from the men’s lightweight team and none from the women’s team.  The Cal Lightweight Crew women’s team has always struggled to be a strong, established team.  The attrition rate on the women’s team is astronomical with very few rowers ever sticking around for a second or third year.  Every year is a struggle with two steps forward and one step back.  Several factors play into the attrition rate including the typical factors, such as it is hard to get people to wake up at 4:20AM for 5AM practice, there are so many other activities in college to explore besides crew, and Cal Lightweight Crew is a student-run club and not a school-funded variety sport like Cal Heavyweight Crew.  In addition, it is hard to find enough college women who weigh 130lbs or less and who want to row to have a truly competitive team.  The lack of women’s lightweight crew alumnae and the novice status of all the current women lightweight rowers reminded me of how difficult and lonely it was to row in college.  It is hard to look back at that experience without a heavy sigh. 

Snappy

Tuesday Evening: The weatherman predicted rain, and it rained this evening.  Out on the water, we had the SDCC eight and 1 mixed double.  The Bay Blades were also at the boathouse, and they did a land/erg practice.  

Over the weekend, our San Diego line-up was finalized.  If you have not figured it out, the line-up will remain the same as we have been rowing since this fateful day.  Our workout today was 3x12minutes; 12 minutes is almost one full lake loop.  The first piece was partly warm-up, and the rate was a 24-26spm.  The second piece was at solid pressure, rate 27spm.  On this piece, the skies opened and it poured on us.  The wind also picked up in the main lake and made for good practice for San Diego.  The last piece was only 10 minutes, but at a rate 30spm.  After writing all about stroke seat and rating, I had an awfully hard time hitting an exact 30spm; the rate would drop to a 29spm and our coxswain would have to call it back up again.

At the end of the workout, Chris asked the boat if anyone felt any different.  Such a vague question!  Different about what?  Physically?  Mentally?  Set of the boat?  Power?  Preparedness for San Diego?  I did not know what he was referring to, but I snapped, “Yeah, it felt different; the boat felt heavy.”  That was definitely NOT what Chris was getting out.  Apparently, Chris had made some minor rigging changes and wanted to know if anyone felt a difference.  In that regard, I did not feel any differences. 

I was in a pretty snappy mood though because one, the boat actually did feel heavy for most of the workout and two, after a hard workout, please do not ask me any complex, loaded, general questions.  It is not a good thing for the boat to feel heavy because it often means that the power in the boat is not enough to “lift” the boat out of the water and to maintain the momentum of the boat.  Every stroke in a heavy boat feels like a struggle and can be difficult on a rower’s back.  It is normal in headwinds and other rough conditions for the boat to feel heavy, and the heaviness in our boat was due to a mixture of conditions and disconnect of the rowers on the drive.  

After a hard workout, it is probably best not to ask me any questions.  First, if it was truly a hard workout, I will not have any oxygen left for my brain cells to process your question.  My brain will not work.  Second, after a hard workout, I just want to be done and go in.  If you and your question stand in the way between me and the dock, I am naturally not a happy camper.  The only thing that makes me an even snappier camper is if you stand in my way for food.  Otherwise, in all other areas, things are looking up, rain or shine.

Length

Rise and shine this morning to darkness.  No sunrise, just dark clouds and rain, but flat, beautiful water.  Too flat because Mission Bay in San Diego at 1:40 in the afternoon is not going to look like this. 

We had the SDCC eight, 1 men’s single, and 1 mixed double on the water this morning.  We had a short warm-up and quickly jumped into the workout of the day, (2’ on, 1’ off), around the lake.  The first time around the lake, all the 2 minute pieces were at a rate of 24spm, focusing on length through the finish.  As Chris mentioned and as you can see for yourself from Saturday’s practice video footage, the boat can sometimes row real short at the finish, pulling in too low, essentially cutting off the finish.  This is a problem because one, you lose length in your stroke and you lose the “swing” part of your stroke, which is not as powerful as the leg drive, but if you have a smooth transition between your legs, backs, and arms, you can continue the acceleration from the drive into the swing.  Two, cutting off the finish can make the boat difficult to set because when you pull in too low, your blade will pop out early, which tilts the boat down to the other side.  Third, when you pull in too low, you often have a misconception of where your handle height is and you lose the swing in and out of bow that helps set that handle height and handle control. 

The 2 minute pieces in the second lake loop varied from a low rate, 18-20spm, to a high rate, 28-30spm.  It is interesting to feel how a boat and how a stroke builds the stroke rate.  For the low rates, we did not have any problems building, considering we were already paddling at the assigned rate.  While building the 28-30spm, however, I felt some disconnect with the rest of the boat.  Our coxswain gave us five strokes to build the rate, but I know and believe that at this point in the season and at this point in practice, it should not take five strokes to hit the rate, plus or minus one beat.  Some strokes like to build the rate gradually, but I like to, after the coxswain says, “Build in two…one…two,” hit the first build stroke strong, sitting up tall, looking forward, and applying full pressure.  I try to hit the rate or as high of a rate as possible on the first two strokes, get a read on the rate, and adjust accordingly.  It might take a tad of rush to hit a high rate, but once there, I try to smooth it out, swing, and lengthen.  I have no idea where I got this style from, but you had better be ready.  It is like the start and settle in a race.  The strong build is the start and the lengthen is the settle.  How great or shitty a high rate feels can depend on multiple factors, but a key factor is your perspective, not only mental perspective, but also rate perspective.  Are you hitting a 34spm from an 18spm or are you lengthening a 34spm from a 38spm?  Big difference in feeling.  

Trust

Flat water, almost like glass.  Due to several people’s work schedules, yesterday’s evening practice was moved to this morning.  We had 1 men’s single and 1 eight with the same line-up as Saturday and Monday out on the water.

We warmed-up from the finger to the log boom with some 10s and the cut-the-cake arms away drill.  Then, we did an interesting drill by bow four and stern four where the four rowers would start at the finish and come up the slide with their blades buried the whole way and then at the catch, switch directions and pull.  The drill is meant to practice slide control as it is difficult to rush up the slide when your blade is buried and pushing against the water.  Anybody know the name of this drill??

From the boathouse to the finger, we practiced starts.  None of the starts felt particularly together, but we were able to hit the 40spm that Chris asked for on the last start and five high.  We need a little more work on the first two strokes of our start.  The main piece today was a progressive rate piece, focusing on patience up the slide and quick hands out of bow.  The piece started at a rate of 18spm, and every 15-20 strokes, we increased the rate by two beats until a 36spm.  I had a hard time shifting from a 30spm to a 32spm; I could not feel enough power in the boat through the drive to bring up the rate with the legs.  The 32spm eventually came around, but with an abbreviated layback and quicker hands out of bow.  We hit the 34spm and almost hit the 36spm, but sat mostly at 35spm.  When we all sit up tall and have quick hands out of bow, the 34-35spm is not too bad.  Chris then, asked for a 38spm.  Well, that did not come so easily.  It took almost 10 strokes at a 37spm before I could hit a 38spm.  We were all so relieved when Chris called the paddle. I had a few curses for Chris in my head.

Today, Chris mentioned several things worth repeating here.  There are two general types of rowers—technicians and hammers.  Technicians are rowers who have good technique and finesse.  Hammers are rowers who are powerful, but who are killing fish by hammering away at the water.  Of course, the best type of rower is someone who is both technician and hammer.  On our team, we all have an idea or perception about ourselves and everyone else on who is more of a technician or more of a hammer.  What we have to remember is that for an eight, it is about the sum of all rowers, not about who is what.  It is about making the best with what we have.  We all have to TRUST that each and every one of us is putting out her best on the line, no matter technician or hammer.  Traditionally, we have been a fly-and-die type of crew, something that I personally abhor.  The accumulation of lactic acid during the “fly” part makes the rest of the race almost unbearable.  Chris emphasized that we have to race at a high rate, 32spm or higher, but we have to also understand our own pacing.  We are probably not going to race at a 34 or 35spm because our fitness is not at that level; we would need a lot more mileage on the water and erg for that.  We do need to remember that when things get hard, we have to have fast hands out of bow, no hesitation.

When we were practicing starts, Chris asked us which seat is the most important.  Hmm, you’d think that every seat is important, but apparently, six seat is the most important seat.  Ideally, six seat protects stern pair and protects bow five.  Six seat protects stern pair by controlling the rush from bow five, thus allowing stern pair to work on rhythm.  Six seat protects bow five from the stern pair when stern pair is setting a really crappy rhythm; six seat is suppose to smooth out the rhythm.  Chris might be a little biased to six seat, the seat which he did row a lot in.  Perfect, now when I feel the rush come barreling up the stern, right to me, I can be peeved at six seat.  Somewhere during his homage to six seat, Chris mentioned his great confidence in this stern pair.  Oh, shit.  Do I need to reiterate my SDCC story?!

Monday Morning

A full parking lot this morning, and chaos on the docks with three teams trying to launch at the same time. On the water, we had 1 LMRC women’s eight, 2 JLAC women’s eights, 1 JLAC men’s eight, 1 LMRC women’s quad, 1 men’s single, and 3 coaches’ launches. In addition, we had three men stay on land to erg. Despite all the chaos on the docks, it was relatively uneventful on the water—no crashes or near-misses. Each team practiced separately and managed to always be on separate ends of the lake from one another.

According to Chris’ calendar, today was suppose to be steady state at 24-26spm, which is not what we did this morning probably due to all the boat traffic and because Chris wanted to see our exact line-up from Saturday “in action.” We did a quick warm-up from the finger to the log boom followed by a three-quarters pressure, 2-3 minute piece back down to the dam at a 28-30spm. The boat felt “on edge” and the 10mph winds, especially from the finger, did not help the set. We lined up at the dam and did our first 500m piece at a 34spm. I was able to bring the rate up to a 33spm, but could not hit the 34spm. After, Chris asked our coxswain for our split and stroke rate numbers. Half-serious, I told her not to tell Chris that our stroke was at a 33spm because a 33spm is not the 34spm that he asked for. I still have memories of my summer at Wisconsin and my coach hounding me about pulling the exact stroke rate that he specified—no higher, no lower.

We spun and did another 500m from the log boom back to the dam. This piece was with a start and a settle to 32spm. We had a poor start and a poor settle, but were able to regain rhythm. The boat did not feel as smooth as on Saturday, but the effort was there. The last 500m piece also had a start and settle. We had a better start, but somewhere in the first 200m, I could feel the rush into the catch. I was a little peeved for two reasons. First, if you are not stroking a boat, you better be watching your stroke seat, controlling your slide and matching up your catch timing. We can row a 32spm with ratio and control, all the way up the slide; we did it on Saturday. Second, a stroke seat really needs a seven seat who can back her up in power and rhythm. A seven seat should help the stroke seat lead the boat, not allow the rest of the boat’s rush come barreling into the stern. Maybe I just did a shitty job stroking today, in which case, you can disregard those two reasons.

At the end of the workout, Chris gave us a talk. Today’s (i.e. Saturday’s) line-up is close to our San Diego line-up. He had really wanted to seat race us, but with one SDCC contender missing, that was not possible today. Chris also warned us that this is crunch time, and we need to be focused on rowing. All other forms of exercise, such as Pilates, yoga, running, swimming, biking, do not count, only rowing and erging count. Counting down to San Diego.

Saturday Morning

The sun was shining and the lake was calm. Perfect for rowing.

The docks were busy today with so many boats. Earlier in the morning, we had the LMRC Senior Men's team out in a double. During our practice time, we had 1 LMRC women's eight, 1 JLAC women's eight, 1 JLAC men's eight, 3 men's singles, 1 women's single, 1 LMRC women's quad, and 1 mixed double all out on the water. For the most part, the eights practiced together, and the other boats did their own workout, keen to stay out of the way of the eights!

This morning's practice was a little unusual for several reasons. First, Chris was gone today because of a regatta for juniors. Second, JLAC's two masters coaches and parts of JLAC's women's and men's teams joined us for practice. And third, I stroked our eight.

All rowers, at some point in time, openly or secretly wished that they sat in stroke seat, but with great prestige comes great responsibility. Two years ago, I stroked the LMRC SDCC boat, the first time I had ever stroked an eight in a race. We had a heat on Saturday and a final on Sunday. In the heat, there was major rush in the boat that I could not control and I mentally panicked. I was not mentally prepared for the high rates and the associated pain. I just wanted to cry. The whole 2,000m, all I could feel was the lactic acid.

LMRC Master 8+ at San Diego Crew Classic 2009;
photo taken by Roger Allen

As stroke, no matter how bad, unset, heavy the boat feels, you must go on with the same aggression, drive, and determination as if the boat did actually feel smooth, set, and fast because the other seven rowers looking to you for rhythm and commitment. You must not give up. Somehow, we managed to edge out another boat and come in third to qualify for the final. After the heat, I told our coach at the time, Dede, that I couldn't do it, I couldn't stroke the boat, I didn't have the stroking and racing experience. Dede somehow reassured a very reluctant me that I could do it.

Sunday's final went better than the heat. There was more rhythm and run in the boat, and we finished third overall. Despite my redemption in the final, that experience in the heat has haunted me. The lactic acid, the feeling of giving up with 1000m to go, the panic of knowing I had nothing left in the tank all makes me very hesitant to ever want to stroke another SDCC.

This morning's line-up was some version or variation of our soon-to-be-announced SDCC line-up. Our usual stroke who is quite experienced was gone today, and it was with great hesitation and doubt that I stepped into stroke seat. The workout today was main lake loop pieces (about 6-7 minutes each), with starts and a settle at 32spm. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I suffer from anything-higher-than-a-26-spm phobia. I am a big fan of steady state, long and strong, but I dread all kinds of intervals work, sprints, starts.

We warmed up from the finger to the log boom and practiced some starts. The more starts we practiced, the more comfortable I got. On the last start in the warm-up, we hit a 41spm during the 10 high. That's highly unusual (no pun intended)! All 3 eights lined up at the log boom. The starts were staggered, with our boat leaving first so that the JLAC coxswains could follow our course through the turn at the dam. For each piece, we did start 5, 15 high, and then, settle. To my surprise, I was able to hit the 32spm no problem and maintain the rate 31-32spm throughout all the pieces. We did three pieces in total. In the first half of all the pieces, I tried to focus on locking in the rate, steady and strong. Then, after the turn at the dam, which was halfway, I pictured us in the third 500m of the race. I thought about those 4x100s I had done on Thursday and had mentally practiced that third 500m. Minus a mini-crab at 6 seat and lack of cohesion on the last start, the boat felt strong and consistent for all three pieces. Four weeks to San Diego.

Tuesday Evening Crab

My team, the Women's team, has practice on Tuesday evenings. It is sometimes difficult for me to make this practice because I have to stay home with the Princess whenever my husband cannot be back from work in time. Tonight though, I made it.

The lake was a busy place tonight. We had four boats out on the water--1 eight, 1 quad, 1 double, and 1 men's single. In addition, we had the Bay Blades, a gay and lesbian friendly group of LMRC, with 1 quad and 1 double. As we were all launching at the dock, we also had 1 mixed double come in from their workout. LMRC is not a big club so it is great to see so it's great to see many boats out.

The flat water of this morning was gone by the evening, and the wind was picking up at about 10 mph. The conditions were perfect for practicing for San Diego Crew Classic, which is known for having windy conditions, especially at the 600m mark. I was in the 8+, at 7 seat, starboard. We did a whole lake loop warm-up and practiced some starts. The boat struggled with the set, teetering between starboard and port. This is a change because for whatever mind-boggling reason or reasons, our boat usually sits down on starboard. In the stern, the set felt shaky, and I can only imagine how much worse it was in the bow. The starts were bad; they felt like a free-for-all with water splashing everywhere. The main workout was 2x(4'/3'/2'/1') at rates 26-28-30-32spm, with enough recovery time in between sets to paddle it back to the finger, so about 5-7 minutes of rest. The 4 minutes at a 26spm were okay; we had some good set of strokes where the boat had good run, but it was not consistent. We had no problem bringing up the rate to 28spm and 30spm. I attribute this to our very strong stroke seat who, no matter what, was solid on the rate with no rush. The 32spm was more chaotic. Overall, the intent of hard effort was there, but the distraction of the set prevented us to really consistently apply powerful strokes to the water.

On the last piece, in the last 20 strokes, 5 seat caught a boat-stopping crab. There was a moment of confusion and panic before we extracted the blade and jumped right back into the piece at a 33spm. This was actually a good opportunity to review what to do in the case of a crab during a race. When there is a boat-stopping crab, one that cannot be extracted without slowing the boat down first, the rest of the boat should lean away from the crab. This allows the oar to rise closer to the water's surface and hopefully "pop" right out. The rower who caught the crab should also turn the oar so that it is perpendicular to the water's surface. Catching a crab does not mean your race is over. You might lose time and probably will not win, but you can finish your race. If you catch a massive crab that ejects you out of the boat (*knock on wood), however, that's a whole different story.