Psychic (or Physic?) Penance
Today was the Wharton Regatta in Philadelphia. As usual before any kind of rowing race, I've been a nauseous insomniac for two days. The only difference is that this time, I wasn't actually going to Philly to participate. I decided earlier in the week that I really couldn't financially afford to make the weekend trip just to cox one men's four in a single six minute race, particularly after I had had to write out a massive tax check to the US Treasury on Tuesday.
I very nearly changed my mind on Thursday though, at the last practice before the regatta. Three of the four men I would have been coxing in Philly were there (two experienced rowers, plus the novice CFYRG), plus a girl called Elena who has only been on the water about twice since she learned how to row a year ago. Even worse, we had too many people on stroke side, so poor CFYRG, having been switched back to port/stroke side on Tuesday, was forced to try rowing on starboard/bow for only the second time in his life. And this outing we would be doing starts and short pieces at high ratings. The omens did not look good.
Amazingly enough, they were brilliant. It was a sunny day, though remarkably windy and choppy for the Rivanna. But the boat was balanced, timing was good, and they flew. I started the series of pieces at a low rating - 20 or so, with low expectations, and incredulously kept upping the rating as they blew piece after piece out of the water. We ended up at about 35, which is about double the highest rating CFYRG ever rowed at before, and they looked great. Then we did starts, which weren't perfect, but still pretty darn good. Even Lloyd in the motor launch, who would be rowing in our other four against these guys at the regatta, started to look a bit worried. I was very proud of them. And did feel sad that I would not get to see how they raced in the real thing.
Later at TNDC that night, CFYRG and I had a long chat. I am wondering whether he is just very shy, a slow burner. Anyway, he is so psyched about rowing, it is great to see. He even wants to sign up for a rowing camp this summer. What is also nice (and unusual) is that he is so thankful to Lloyd and Sean for spending the time to teach him how to row. Most novices take the coaching they get totally for granted.
I am dying to know how they did.
***
Also on the subject of rowing, I discovered today an interesting fact about EnglishGuy. Although Sean, Ladi and I inferred from his modest "oh no, couldn't possiblys" the day we had dinner last week that he was not enough of a rower to row with the DRC, it turns out that he is a very good rower indeed. My knowledge of ARA classifications is ten years old and very hazy, but from what he says it seems like he's won an awful lot of pots. So, I am renaming EnglishGuy (a name I never liked much but couldn't think of anything better at the time). His new name in any future mentions will be ClosetRowerMan (CRM).
***
I learned about the closet rowing at the bottom of a canyon in the national park. In a penance for missing rowing, CRM and I went up to the park to do a hike. It was only much later that I saw a description on the bottom of someone else's map that described this particular hike as "very strenuous". This was reassuring, as my legs and lower back were telling me it was very strenuous long before I looked at that map. Anyway, although it was only just over 8 miles, it featured a 3000ft drop in elevation down a canyon over 5 miles, then (the worse bit) a very rocky 3000ft ascent of 3 miles. And when it was too late to turn back, I realized with horror that it wasn't quite a circuit hike: we were going to be spat out onto the Skyline Drive, just as the sun was going down, about 3 more miles down the road from where we left the car.
The first serious hike of the year is always a bit of a nightmare. I knew that all along. But I must say, the ascent out of the canyon was not pleasant. It was rocky, uneven, wet in places, and unrelentingly steep. I had no choice but to resort to my Everest Death Zone technique (which involves plodding along, one step at a time, with regular pauses, and giving myself stern talkings to about what my mother would say if I died from starvation and exposure on the side of a mountain). A pair of hikers caught us up at one point on the ascent, looking hopeful. They too had left their car three miles from the trail end. We gave them a granola bar but were unable to give them any good news about transport, so they left us behind and vanished up the canyon out of sight.
The old adage of hare and tortoise proved true yet again, however. We finally reached the road, and almost immediately accosted a startled Iranian-American couple to give us a ride back to Skyland. So we would have beaten the other hikers back by about forty minutes, except we were feeling magnanimous and made the Iranians stop to squeeze them in too, when we passed them a mile down the road.
***
Just one last thing. The Daily Regress is a really bad paper but they had a good story today about a 75 year old Virginia woman who got stuck in the bath for a week before she was discovered. When she was eventually removed, what was the first thing she asked for? Her pack of Parliament 100s (ie fags) and a Coke.
I very nearly changed my mind on Thursday though, at the last practice before the regatta. Three of the four men I would have been coxing in Philly were there (two experienced rowers, plus the novice CFYRG), plus a girl called Elena who has only been on the water about twice since she learned how to row a year ago. Even worse, we had too many people on stroke side, so poor CFYRG, having been switched back to port/stroke side on Tuesday, was forced to try rowing on starboard/bow for only the second time in his life. And this outing we would be doing starts and short pieces at high ratings. The omens did not look good.
Amazingly enough, they were brilliant. It was a sunny day, though remarkably windy and choppy for the Rivanna. But the boat was balanced, timing was good, and they flew. I started the series of pieces at a low rating - 20 or so, with low expectations, and incredulously kept upping the rating as they blew piece after piece out of the water. We ended up at about 35, which is about double the highest rating CFYRG ever rowed at before, and they looked great. Then we did starts, which weren't perfect, but still pretty darn good. Even Lloyd in the motor launch, who would be rowing in our other four against these guys at the regatta, started to look a bit worried. I was very proud of them. And did feel sad that I would not get to see how they raced in the real thing.
Later at TNDC that night, CFYRG and I had a long chat. I am wondering whether he is just very shy, a slow burner. Anyway, he is so psyched about rowing, it is great to see. He even wants to sign up for a rowing camp this summer. What is also nice (and unusual) is that he is so thankful to Lloyd and Sean for spending the time to teach him how to row. Most novices take the coaching they get totally for granted.
I am dying to know how they did.
***
Also on the subject of rowing, I discovered today an interesting fact about EnglishGuy. Although Sean, Ladi and I inferred from his modest "oh no, couldn't possiblys" the day we had dinner last week that he was not enough of a rower to row with the DRC, it turns out that he is a very good rower indeed. My knowledge of ARA classifications is ten years old and very hazy, but from what he says it seems like he's won an awful lot of pots. So, I am renaming EnglishGuy (a name I never liked much but couldn't think of anything better at the time). His new name in any future mentions will be ClosetRowerMan (CRM).
***
I learned about the closet rowing at the bottom of a canyon in the national park. In a penance for missing rowing, CRM and I went up to the park to do a hike. It was only much later that I saw a description on the bottom of someone else's map that described this particular hike as "very strenuous". This was reassuring, as my legs and lower back were telling me it was very strenuous long before I looked at that map. Anyway, although it was only just over 8 miles, it featured a 3000ft drop in elevation down a canyon over 5 miles, then (the worse bit) a very rocky 3000ft ascent of 3 miles. And when it was too late to turn back, I realized with horror that it wasn't quite a circuit hike: we were going to be spat out onto the Skyline Drive, just as the sun was going down, about 3 more miles down the road from where we left the car.
The first serious hike of the year is always a bit of a nightmare. I knew that all along. But I must say, the ascent out of the canyon was not pleasant. It was rocky, uneven, wet in places, and unrelentingly steep. I had no choice but to resort to my Everest Death Zone technique (which involves plodding along, one step at a time, with regular pauses, and giving myself stern talkings to about what my mother would say if I died from starvation and exposure on the side of a mountain). A pair of hikers caught us up at one point on the ascent, looking hopeful. They too had left their car three miles from the trail end. We gave them a granola bar but were unable to give them any good news about transport, so they left us behind and vanished up the canyon out of sight.
The old adage of hare and tortoise proved true yet again, however. We finally reached the road, and almost immediately accosted a startled Iranian-American couple to give us a ride back to Skyland. So we would have beaten the other hikers back by about forty minutes, except we were feeling magnanimous and made the Iranians stop to squeeze them in too, when we passed them a mile down the road.
***
Just one last thing. The Daily Regress is a really bad paper but they had a good story today about a 75 year old Virginia woman who got stuck in the bath for a week before she was discovered. When she was eventually removed, what was the first thing she asked for? Her pack of Parliament 100s (ie fags) and a Coke.
posted by alranson | 8:13 PM
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