And Life Goes On

If you have been counting, which there is no reason you would be, it has been 216 days since we moved away from Oakland and since I started a new job, 83 days since my last post, 27 days since my last row on the water, and 7 days since the Princess turned two years old.  

The Princess sits next to me as I type and we both eat grapes;
please note the door behind her and the stickers--lovely

The longer I spend away from the water, the more I worry that I am losing the feel for the water, the smoothness up the recovery, the softness at the catch, the consistency through the drive among other things, such as fitness and strength.  I worry that for every three steps forward in rowing that I had made, I am now taking two steps back.

Instead of worrying if I am training correctly or what is my race plan for the next 2k, I now worry that I am not going to have enough     (time / energy / motivation)      to workout.  Somewhere, rowing has become a struggle in a mix between the new job (i.e. new skills, more hours, travel, different work style, and unpredictability), a less convenient location to the boathouse, an older and more independent-but-really-more-dependent-in-some-ways Princess, and a husband who gets to be single parent when I travel.

The erg at home has proved to be helpful for a short workout or two.  Not so long ago, i.e. 216 days ago, I begrudged doing short interval workouts, such as 6x500m or 4x1000m, because first, I hate intervals and if you did these intervals right, it is a world of pain.  And second, I felt like I did not get the best mileage for the amount of time spent.  I generally preferred 45 or 60 minute steady state pieces.  Now, I am simply grateful if I have the time, energy, and motivation to erg for a simple 20 minutes--usually still steady state.  Erg splits are becoming less and less relevant beyond reminding me of how far I have "fallen."

Here is what my recent ergs look like.  It is 6:30 in the evening and I am just getting home from work.  Sometimes, the Princess and the husband will already be home and sometimes, it is just the Princess and me.  If the husband and the Princess are home, we try to eat dinner together like a normal family except for the food-throwing by the Princess.  Sometime after dinner, I might erg.  While I erg, the husband tries to entertain the Princess and knows to stay far away from "Mama" while she ergs.

If it is just the Princess and me, well, things might not go as smoothly.  I might turn on the TV to occupy the Princess with Elmo or Caillou (thank god for streaming Netflix even if the selection otherwise is not spectacular).  Unfortunately, with the erg and the TV in the same room, you cannot really hear the TV over someone erging.  The Princess usually loses interest fairly quickly.  She did once take the TV remote and turn up the volume until she could hear her show.  I had to stop and turn the volume back down before our neighbors could complain.  And I had thought she only knew how to use the remote to turn on and off the TV.

The erg in the corner of the family / living room;
barely enough room to clear the elbows at the finish

Usually though, the Princess might do puzzles or wander around, looking bored and waiting for me to stop erging. She generally knows not to bother "Mama" while she ergs, although there have been a number of times when the Princess will come up to the erg speaking in some gibberish (not English or Chinese).

In the book Assault on Lake Casitas, Brad Lewis describes some of his mental preparation for the 1984 Olympics.  He and his doubles partner, Paul Enquist, did "shadow rowing" on an erg, practicing their mental focus by executing different scenarios--pretending that they were leading or that they were behind the pack, but making sure they stayed focused.  They even had other people try to distract them in different ways, from shouting obscenities, reading provocative passages to pouring water on them.  No matter the distraction, they stayed focused and it paid off.

Well, my erging at home has been anything but what Lewis and Enquist practiced.  I was really surprised at how distracting the Princess can be just by running around, eating, whining, or making a mess.  Sometimes, it is really hard to just hold a stroke rate or a split, plus or minus two seconds (which is not really consistent or "holding a split"), never mind technique.

One time, I had my eyes closed for a few strokes when the Princess came up and tapped my leg to ask help with her Mr. Potatohead.  I nearly jumped out of my skin.  I managed to not send the handle flying and then, told her to wait until I was done.  She eventually lost interest and found something better to do.

This is probably not an example of good parenting nor is it an example of good erging .  For now though, it will have to do.

I have not yet found steady footing in this new situation and I know that very soon, I am going to have to face the facts and determine what are my goals for right now and what can wait.  I am afraid those 27 days off the water might become 270 days.  In the meanwhile, life goes on...

Thank You, Lake Merritt



Goodbye and good luck card.  Thank you, LMRC!
(There was delicious banana chocolate and walnut cake associated with the card,
but I could not wait and already ate all the cake...)

It has been over a week since my last row at Lake Merritt, and it already feels like a distant past.

In Moonwalking with Einstein, a story of remembering and the US National Memory Championships, the author describes that the more dramatic, memorable events are, the better you remember them, and thus, the slower time passes for you.  This is the opposite of the idea that "Time flies when you are having fun."  A week packed with "fun"--moving, traveling, a new job, new faces-- feels much longer than just seven days.

When you are young, life is good.  You are fresh, always improving, learning new things.  You are invincible, on-top-of-the-world.  You can handle anything and everything that life throws at you.  You are hungry--you want everything right now.  You are the epitomy of "bright-eyed and bushy tailed."  Moving?  New job?  New house?  No problem.

In a span of a day and a half, my husband and I stripped our old place bare and officially "moved in" to our new apartment, filled with boxes, bags brimming with our worldly posessessions (some of which we did not even know we had).  The next four days were spent traveling, meeting new people, learning new things for the job.  Ever felt really stupid and slow?  Ever felt like you are holding on by a nail? 

Maybe my constant memory loss, which sometimes does apply to other things besides rowing, ages me.  Maybe when people say that a new job, a new city, is a big chance, they are not kidding.  Maybe everything is easier when you know what you are doing, when you have your anchors--friends, family, rowing, swimming, goal, purpose, life--in place.  Maybe my amazing ability and huge appetite do have a limit because I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

Just like the things I have learned from swimming with Marcia, here are a few things I have learned from rowing at Lake Merritt:

1. A really good coach is worth his or her weight in gold.  Coaching takes time, energy, patience.  Masters coaching is even more difficult.  Trying to get rowers of different ages, backgrounds, abilities, goals to row together, race, win is hardly an envious responsibility.
2. I am probably not the easiest athlete to coach.  I do not trust coaches easily.  Many people coach, but few actually know what they are doing.  I have my days when I disagree with the workout, line-up, people, life in general, etc. and have a few not-so-nice things lined up in my head.  As a friend pointed out to me, "Yes, you are a HUGE 'I'," I do not like to be pushed by a coach, coxswain, or anyone or anything else.  Who are you to tell me how far I can go and where my limit is?  Luckily, at Lake Merritt, I have met some really good coaches who do know what they are doing and who have helped me go farther than I had imagined.
3. Sometimes, I am just a kid with an attitude problem.  I may appear to be an adult with a real world job, a husband, and a Princess, but some days, I am really just your typical teenager, snappy and pissed off.  Forgive me.
4. I am a small boat person.  Big boats can be fun, but what I love is small boats.  There is not always strength in numbers, which is why small clubs can do BIG things. 




LMRC Women's Team...I have no idea what they are trying to do...


5. On a team, everyone brings something to the team whether it be a fast erg score, a good atttiude, humor, competition, maturity, rhythm, experience, etc. 
6. Rowing a single requires a lot of time, dedication, and patience with yourself.  Ever want to feel stupid and slow?  Remember rowing a single for the first time?
7. Erging can be less tortuous--sometimes.  Haunted by old erg tests, I hate the erg.  If the sport was erging, not rowing (like during the winter in the Midwest), I would just quit.  An former Cal Lwt Crew coach and friend would constantly tell us, "The erg is your friend.  You love the erg.  The erg will make you stronger."  Sometimes, the erg will be your only honest friend.  Think of the erg as a tool.  Work with it, not against it.  (I still hate it though.)
8. Be grateful for what you have and the people you meet along the way.  Thank you, LMRC.




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Recovery Swim

Wednesday morning:  This morning’s swim was what Marcia called a “recovery” swim.  Recovering for what?!  This makes me suspicious.  I am already scared for Thursday.  I hate surprises, especially ones that come in as swim tests or erg tests.

A view of the Wisconsin boathouse, Porter Boathouse, from the side;
the erg room is on top where the balcony is

Surprise erg tests put a big knot in my stomach.  I remember one morning during the first week of camp in Wisconsin, we went out on the water as normal and then, came back in early.  That only meant one thing—erging.  That morning, I had actually debated with myself whether or not to bring my tennis shoes.  Since it was summer in Wisconsin with about 90% humidity, I always wore my flip-flops.  And that morning, I had decided to leave the tennis shoes at home.  SHIT.

The erg piece was a 5,000 meters at max pressure with controlled rating, starting the piece at 18spm and increasing the rate 2 beats every 1,000 meters.  Basically, it was an erg test with specified rates.  I did the entire erg piece without shoes, which can be challenging because it is much harder to swing at the finish and keep your feet touching the footboards.  Luckily or unluckily, I was not the only person to forget her shoes.  One other girl who was not from Wisconsin also did not bring tennis shoes.  All the Wisco girls knew better and always carried tennis shoes, just in case. 

Unfortunately, for the other girl, she stopped a few times to adjust her feet and foot straps, and the coach came up and said, “What is up with this?  What are you doing?  This is an erg test.  You can’t just stop.”  From one of my novice coaches, I learned that you NEVER ever stop in the middle of an erg test unless you are passing out or throwing up or having an asthma attack (which one of the girls at camp actually had during an erg test and the coach had to force her to stop because she would not give up).

The lesson is erg tests suck, and surprise erg tests suck more.  Bring your tennis shoes if there is even a chance of erging.

As for the recovery swim that we had, it really was not that easy.  The main set had a lot of partnering up with a buddy and since my lane had an odd number of swimmers, we had a threesome. 

1. 3x50yds family kickboard (all two or three people hold on to one kickboard and flutter kick for 50yds) and 50yds pulling partner (one person swims while the partner or partners hang on, acting as dead weight)
2. 3x50yds free, descending
3. 3x100yds free, descending

Maybe Marcia thought it was a recovery swim because all the partner work gave us adequate rest between sets?!