Bostonian Weather

Just another day in Boston...

There is a saying in Boston about the weather, “Don’t like the weather, just wait a minute and it’ll change.” What Bostonians do not tell you is that the weather usually changes for the worst.

The morning after the Petaluma River Marathon, my unfortunate husband woke up before the crack of dawn to drive me to the airport. (The Princess was undisturbed, asleep at her vacation home, i.e. Grandma and Grandpa’s.) New job and a new location to travel to—Boston.

I arrived Monday evening to a warm, humid Boston. Guys walked around Newbury Street, a popular tourist and shopping area, in T-shirts and cargo shorts and girls in skirts and spaghetti straps. By Tuesday morning, all the Walgreens and CVS’s in the city, had rolled out their umbrella racks, knowing that in miserable, drenching weather, anyone would be willing to pay $15 for a crap umbrella.

The rain and cold from Tuesday continued into Wednesday. With only light rain Wednesday morning and wearing all the layers that I had packed—a T-shirt, long sleeve, and jacket, I headed to Union Boat Club (UBC). UBC is located on the south side (downtown side) of the Charles River Basin.

The sheer number of Boston rowing clubs makes the Charles River THE place to row. Many of the well-known clubs include Cambridge Rowing Club, Community Rowing, Riverside, and UBC. Other teams include universities (e.g. Harvard, MIT, BU, Northeastern) and high schools.

MIT women's crew getting ready to launch in the rain

UBC is a small, but well-established club in Boston whose rowers primarily scull with a handful of members or ex-members being elite or national team scullers. The average club boat is, you know, just an Empacher!

We had 2 men’s singles, 1 men’s double, and 2 women’s doubles (of which I stroked one) out on the water with the coach in a white, sleek, official-looking wakeless launch. Rowing up river, the water was rough. The workout was 3x8minutes at 24, 26, and 28spm—two pieces up river and last piece coming back down.

Right about where we started our first piece, the river was calmer, but nothing in comparison to Lake Merritt on an average day. The slowest boats started first--my double started second. We were able to hold off the other women’s double who left third, but they were able to close most of the gap between us. We rowed past a whole armada of Riverside boats pass us and steered our way around Community Rowing boats and other singles who were stopped.

After the last piece, we were still a good distance from the boathouse, and the coach went in ahead of us. The wind and rain began to pick up, and the river turned choppy again. On the way back, my doubles partner spotted a fellow member sitting wet and curled up on a dock on our starboard side. The girl had taken out a Peinsit single and her boat, bouncing up and down with the waves, was parked along the dock. We pulled over to check out the situation.

As the weather had deteriorated and water filled the boat, the terrified girl had found it hard to row. She had managed to find safety on the dock and tried to wave down the coach as he drove by, but he was driving on the far side and did not see her.

In order to get back to the boathouse, we all played a game of switching seats. My double’s partner went into the single. I moved to bow seat in the double, and the girl sat in stroke seat. With the new arrangement, we tried to push off the high dock, which was definitely not designed for rowing shells. Somewhere in the push off, my double’s partner flipped the single. Luckily, though, compared to the rain and wind, the water was warm.

Unable to get back into the boat, my double’s partner pushed the single back to the dock and got back in. Then, I got out, ran over to the single, in my hurry slipped on the dock, pushed the single back out, and got back into the double. We shoved off the dock and rowed half-slide back to the boathouse.

If you are a rower, you know that the Head of the Charles (HOTC), in October, is THE head race. With two days of racing and over fifty different events, each with an invitation and lottery entry selection method, it feels quite prestigious and official to race at the HOTC.

It is days like Wednesday, however, that make me really wonder what is so great about the HOTC and the Charles River. In October, Boston weather is usually crap and the river is never calm and flat. When you mention HOTC to other rowers, you always hear stories of the year that it started to _(fill in the blank with snowing, hailing, storming, pouring)_ or the year that the Chinese eight crashed and sank (2006). Experienced rowers will tell you to bring a sponge because you might be bailing water out of the boat. And that despite your warm-up, you will probably find yourself sitting at the start line, shivering and waiting for your bow number to be called.

Perhaps the HOTC is the ultimate example of “misery loves company.” With over 8,000 other rowers suffering the same fate, it almost seems like THE cool thing to do. It just happens to often be cold, rainy, and windy.

Goodbye Boulder, Hello NSR #2

In my last few hours in Colorado, I managed to make a trip up to Chautauqua Park in Boulder.  This is where the trees, mountains, trails are and where I should have spent the weekend, instead of being in Denver.  Even in the rain and fog and even with the oppressive altitude, I can understand why people move to Boulder for the outdoors.

At the Chautauqua trailhead; fog encases the mountains

Along the Royal Arch Trail

Along the Mesa Trail

As you might know, National Selection Regatta #2 has already started.  This racing season, 2011, is especially important for USRowing because it is the year before the Olympics, London 2012.  Not only are all the countries using this year at the World Cups and the World Championships to test their speed and check out the competition, but also this is a qualifying year for all Olympic boat categories and all countries.

In order for a country to race in a specific boat category (e.g. W1x, M1x, W8+, etc.), that country must have qualified in that particular boat the year before.  FISA governs the qualification process.  The exact rules are complex and can be found here.  Essentially, the top finishing boats in each Olympic event (not all World Championship events, such as the LW1x and the LW4x, are Olympic events) qualify their respective countries for the Olympics.  The fine print here is that the BOAT and NOT the ROWERS qualify!  Just because you are in the boat this year and qualify the boat for the Olympics does not guarantee you a seat.

In addition, the qualification process puts a lot of pressure on USRowing and at the NSRs to send the top athletes in order to have the best shot of qualifying.

Julie Nichols in stroke, Kristin in bow; photo from time trial
Copyright row2k.com

Miranda in stroke; photo from time trial
Copyright row2k.com

Both Kristin and Miranda will be racing in the finals tomorrow.  You can read about Kristin's races online.  Let's cheer them on!

Shoes

Monday:  This morning, I was still somewhat recovering from the weekend and still adjusting to the altitude.  Ever feel like you have a headache and mild nausea like you are car sick?  Might be from the altitude!

The day started off with a steady state run in the nice suburban neighborhoods of Louisville, Colorado.  After working all day, I managed to sneak a quick trip up to Boulder.  Now, Boulder is more of what I thought the rest of Colorado would look like--beautiful scenery, mountains, and lean, in-shape people walking around.

View of the mountains on the way to Boulder

I made a stop at the Boulder Running Company, located right off of the main road, US-36.  The store was an impressive running boutique store that offered quite the selection of running shoes and accessories.  When you think of a running store, a small store like TranSports in Berkeley or Forward Motion in Danville comes to mind.  The Boulder Running Company was about three times the size of a typical boutique store, but obviously, no where near the size of a Sports Basement or Sports Authority.  The walls of the store were lined with running posters and I even found one of my sources of inspiration, Haile Gebrselassie.

Posters of Haile Gebrselassie and Steve Prefontaine in the Boulder Running Co.

Next to the signed poster of Gebreselassie is a larger poster of Steve Prefontaine, a popular American, University of Oregon-Bill Bowerman-born runner who ran in the late 1960s and early 1970s, but died an early and tragic death.  One of my favorite running books is Bowerman and the Men of Oregon: The Story of Oregon's Legendary Coach and Nike's Cofounder, which talks about the rise of running at the University of Oregon and about some of the school's stars including Prefontaine, Frank Shorter, and Kenny Moore.

My husband swears that whenever I travel, I always come home with a pair of new shoes.  I tell you that he is exaggerating.  I, like many other normal women, love to go shoe shopping.  I, unlike many women, do not come home with shopping bags full of shoes.  He should considering himself lucky.  Instead, I would prefer to spend my money on other things, such as food, books, and new rowing gear.

Unfortunately, my husband might be right this time because I am coming home with a pair of new trail running shoes (and a few pairs of compression socks and a box of Easy Laces), purchased from the Boulder Running Company.

I had better come home and hit the trails running or else my husband will never forgive me for spending an arm and a leg for shoes!

Altitude Adjustment

The weekend in Denver, Colorado was a mixed bag.  The mixed experience was partially my fault for not planning better and for simply being an ignorant Californian. 

View of downtown Denver from the Museum of Nature and Science


As an ignorant Californian, I had expected Colorado to be this wonderful outdoors state where everyone looked like Lance Armstrong and Ryan Hall and ate natural fresh foods.  I had read about the fast runners from University of Colorado at Boulder in Running with the Buffaloes: A Season Inside with Mark Wetmore, Adam Goucher, and the University of Colorado Men's Cross Country Team and had expected to see elite national team runners training on the roads. 

There are definitely parts of Colorado where I might see elite runners whiz by, but Denver was not one of them.  We went to some of the usual tourist spots in Denver--16th Street Mall and Denver Museum of Nature and Science.  16th Street Mall was no more than a trashier version of Santa Monica's Third Street Promenade.  The museum, however, was a better and larger version of Berkeley's Lawernce Hall of Science, and even the Princess had fun for the most part, crawling about the exhibits.

The Princess crawling next to the wildlife exhibit

I had also been excited for the weekend because we were actually staying in Aurora, Colorado, right next to Cherry Creek State Park.  When you say "State Park," I automatically picture forests of redwood trees (think Muir Woods National Monument) or mountains and waterfalls (think Yosemite).

Cherry Creek State Park looked nothing like what I had imagined.  Bordered by a highway, the park consisted of a lake and flat, dry grassland and marshland.  To be honest, the landscape was somewhat disappointing; it looked almost like the yellow rolling hills occupied with cows that you can find almost anywhere in California. 

There were, however, paved trails throughout the park, and my husband and I were determined to use this opportunity to get a run in.  Pushing the Princess in her royal chariot (a total of 40 pounds, including the backpack tucked in the stroller), we started to run.  For the first 15 minutes, I felt like crap.  My legs felt heavy and I just felt SLOW.  We also had to remember that Denver is called "Mile High City" for a reason--Denver has an elevation of 5,280ft, exactly one mile.  Up this high, there is less oxygen and the sun shines brighter, more white than yellow.

We ran for about 45 minutes on this never-ending paved trail before stopping to look at a map.  Instead of running a loop around the lake, we had run directly south east, away from the lake.  There was no way we would be able to loop the lake without running at least a half marathon.  And we were in no way prepared to run that far.  Running in the middle of a warm day and with only a 12oz Dasani bottle of water, we were already tired by the time we decided to turn around and double back. 

Map of Cherry Creek Park and our there-and-back run

The run back was really a slow race against time and heat.  We did manage to make it back relatively intact, suffering only from mild heat exhaustion and dehydration.  The Princess slept most of the time and was only slightly sunburnt.  We were pretty dumb and lucky.  We should have been more prepared with more water and looked more closely at the trail map before running.  We probably should not have chosen a long run to be our first workout at such a high altitude. 

It has been two days since we arrived, and I think I am still trying to adjust to the altitude.

"Vacation"

Friday:  Today we left for our second family "vacation."  The first was San Diego.  I say "vacation" because the original plan was for my husband and I to take advantage of my work travel and tag a weekend vacation on while the Princess stayed with Grandma and Grandpa.  Unfortunately, Grandma and Grandpa were themselves out of town and the Princess ended up coming with us.  Can you sense my bitterness?  Who wants to juggle a car seat, a stroller (big jogging stroller), luggage, and a 24 pound squriming animal through security? 

Try to control this--the 24 pound squirming animal
on a normal day

The day got off to an inauspicious start--I overslept and missed practice this morning.  As many rowers learn in college, you must do everything humanly possible to make it to practice.  Of course, if you are unconscious, there is not much you can do.  Luckily, I only overslept by half an hour and did manage to fit in a run.  I had forgotten how much I love mornings runs where the air is cool and crisp. 

After a half-day at work, I came home to pack like a maniac.  I actually hate to travel, even when it is for vacation.  Packing freaks me out because I can never decide on what to bring.  We picked up the Princess from daycare and then, went to the airport where my husband dropped the Princess and me off.  Yes, unfortunately, my husband and I had separate flights and I was the lucky parent to fly with the Princess although I am cleary not the favorite parent.  The Princess was screaming when she realized that Dad was not coming with us.  Lovely.

The Princess and I had a connection in Salt Lake City.  By the time we finally landed in Salt Lake City, I had half a mind to leave the Princess behind in the plane.  She had taken the orange juice that I had been served right out of my hands and drank the whole thing.  Well, about 80% of it.  The other 20% ended up on her shirt.  

The Princess awaiting her royal connection
at Salt Lake City

Thankfully, for the last flight--Salt Lake City to Denver, the Princess fell asleep.  Now, I had to struggle to keep my legs from falling asleep with 24 pounds on top.  Welcome to Colorado!

The sleeping Princess; thank God!

We made it!

Company Credit Card and the Amish

Yesterday, I touched on several reasons why I am not a fan of work travel.  One of those reasons was that work travel is disruptive to my normal eating routine and often makes it difficult to eat healthy.  There is, however, one positive to eating while traveling for work--the company credit card.  My company pays for all employee meals when on travel.  There is no official limit to how much your meals can cost, but any meal over $25 must have an itemized receipt included in your expense report.  If the meal looks too extravagant, you might get a few questions.  While many of my co-workers like to take the opportunity to swipe the company credit card for lavish steaks, big meals, and drinks, I like to use it to order food that is healthy, but that I am too cheap to pay for on my own.

Tonight, I made a stop for dinner at Panera Bread, a chain bakery and cafe found across the U.S.  Here's what I ordered, to-go: 1 cup of chicken noodle soup (love chicken soup although I do not eat chicken), 1 cup of black bean soup, 1 full Mediterranean Veggie sandwich, and 1 Greek salad.  Three baguette pieces and 1 bag of potato chips were also included in the meal.  My meal came in one of those large brown shopping bags, often used for carrying catered food. 

Here was my rationale.  It was very cold outside, almost freezing, hence, I wanted soup.  I could not decide between chicken soup and black bean soup, both of which are very good.  Since cost is no object in this situation, I got both.  When I personally eat out, I am too cheap to order salad because salad is often overpriced and not very filling.  Since, again, cost is no object here, I ordered $6 worth of romaine lettuce, sparsely sprinkled with feta cheese, tomatoes, and olives.  Finally, I had to have a main course, which was the sandwich.

I wonder if the girl who took my order thought I was ordering food for two people.  I wonder if the hotel check-in manager thought I was having a party in my room with my big bag of food.  Lastly, I wonder what my manager at work who will have to approve my expense report will think when he sees my receipt.  Yes, I ordered a lot of food.  No, I did not order food for anyone else.  Yes, I followed the company corporate policy.  No, I did not have dinner with anyone else.

On a different note, I did learn a few more things about Ohio today so I can be less of an ignorant Californian.  Northern Ohio is pretty flat while the southern portion of the state is more hilly (but nothing like San Francisco).  Apparently, the difference in Ohio geography was caused by a glacier thousands of years ago; the glacier flattened northern Ohio, but it never reached southern Ohio.  In the Cincinnati area and along the border with Kentucky, you will start meeting people with Southern accents.  When you go east towards the Appalachian Mountains, you will find what a manager at work here calls “clannish people”—people who are wary of outsiders and live barely above the poverty level.  There are also a number of subsistence farmers and a handful of "truck" farms, large farms that import in Hispanic farm hands during the harvest season.  

The Amish people also have large farms, 40-80 acres that are often bought through their church so technically the church owns the farms.  The Amish do not hire hands to help with the harvest.  Instead, the whole community pitches in to help with farming.  In addition, the Amish do not believe in and have no need for insurance.  If someone's house burns down, all families pitch in to help rebuild the house.  Did you know that the Amish are famous builders in this area?  Although they do not believe in electricity, they can build houses equipped with electricity and there is such a thing as an Amish electrician.  The Amish refer to the non-Amish as the "English."  Children of Amish parents, at some point in time, are allowed to go out into the world and explore the "English" ways.  They then must decide whether they want to lead an Amish or an "English" life.  Once that decision has been made, the idea is that there is no turning back.  I wonder if these people pay taxes.  I wonder how these people do their taxes, obviously not by Turbo Tax!

Ignorant Californian

As much as I think about how cool it would be to go on adventures, travel the world, and explore new places, in the very end, I am a big homebody.  I love having a schedule, going to familiar places, and knowing exactly what to expect.

Thus, traveling for work is not one of my favorite things.  First, work travel disrupts training.  It is hard to be a serious athlete when you are working 12 hour plant days, dining and wining with clients, or constantly catching red-eyes.  Your hotel may or may not have a tiny fitness room with one lonely treadmill and some free weights.  It is so important, however, that you do something active during your travels.  Something, anything to maintain your fitness level.

Second, work travel disrupts eating.  Many times, it is difficult to eat out healthy without sounding like a complete health nut, insane calorie-watching woman, and stereotypical California ("Excuse me, no butter or hydrogenated fats please!").  In addition, travel can be stressful and it is so tempting to munch on candies, chips, trail mix, etc. to ease the anxiety.

Third, work travel often means driving around in unfamiliar places and navigating your way around a new town.  In my line of work, which involves manufacturing, I often find myself traveling to the Midwest and the South.  If you do not know, I am pretty much 100% Californian--born and raised in California--and I am also pretty much the stereotypical ignorant Californian.  The middle of America is one big blob in my head.  I have no sense of where North Dakota is relative to Iowa or how far east or west Michigan is from Ohio.  Ohio, Iowa, Idaho all seem the same in my head, like this. 

When I first arranged this week's trip to Ohio, I had pictured traveling to several different suppliers, all located in Ohio.  Little did I know that Ohio is no puny state!  It would take almost four hours to drive from one end of the state to the other end, about 220 miles.  In my head, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Columbus, Akron were all located right next to each other.  After all, how big could Ohio be?  What an ignorant Californian!

In order to rectify my mistakes, I have learned a thing or two about Ohio.  Ohio is the seventh most populous state with a population of 11.5 million.  Ohio is on Eastern Standard Time, something that I was confused about when I got off the plane this morning; it is also the most western state in the EST zone.  The Pro Football Hall of Fame and the First Ladies National Historic Site are located in Canton, close to where I am visiting this week.  Apparently, there is also an Amish colony nearby.  The Ohio state mascot and mascot for Ohio State University is the buckeye or Aesculus glabra, which is a tree native to the Midwest. 

Now that I have learned a little bit about this new state, I think I have done my duty.  I cannot wait to get home!