She Learns to Row

Although coached practices don’t start for a few weeks, we have been doing casual all-member rows a couple of times a week. The next one scheduled is tomorrow, and it should be a beautiful day for a row. But I’m not going.

I’ve got a hot date, and I’ve chosen time with The Guy over a row.

I can’t quite believe it, actually. I’ve been very certain that I’m not serious about The Guy. I don’t want to get serious. We just talked about not getting serious. In fact, I blew him off on Monday due to work. But I missed him, so I’m going on a date instead of a row.

The Guy is athletic – he does weightlifting competitions and runs in 5Ks. He’s really supportive of my rowing. He would be disappointed not to see me, but he’d understand. Yet I didn’t even tell him. I just said yes, that I’d love to see him. It kinda freaks me out. I really don’t want to get serious, and turning down something I love to do so I can see him feels kinda weird. Like, serious-ish. Like, freaky. And I’m doing it anyway. I’m not sure this is a good thing, no matter how much fun we will have together. But I want to see him and to relax with him.

It’s hard to balance out your sporting loves with the rest of you life. Work, family, even laundry – they can all get in the way of a nice day pulling an oar (or hiking a hill, or playing hockey, or all those other things I love). I often manage it by simply saying No to the people who want something from me. This time I said yes. I need to be careful, or I’m going to end up serious about The Guy after all. And that would not be good.

Coaching will start in a few weeks, but with the nice weather, we’ve had some all-member rows the past few weeks. I’ve only managed to sweep once, and sculled 3 times. Which is great, except I’m a terrible sculler. Like, terrible-terrible.

Learn-to-scull class was bad. I had no idea what to do, and flailed about like a spastic octopus. But with a few sculls last fall and the ones this spring, maybe I’m finally going to get it. Two rows ago, we did some great drills where we rotated by twos, and would do 10 hard strokes with 10 at a paddle. This was wonderful for helping me get a feel on the oar, and I finally learned to feather without using my wrist. We only did a short row, maybe 8 kilometers, but it was great. Then last weekend, I was out in a quad again. We did a 15 kilometer steady-state row, and I didn’t crab a single time. I was so happy! My forearms were incredibly tired by the end, but it was really fun. There was no one out on the river but us. It was a vibrantly blue spring morning. The geese honked as we rowed by, and a river otter kept pace for a few strokes. And I didn’t crab.

Shame and embarassment are a hard thing. When you are all rowing together, your smallest error can screw up the whole boat. I hate that feeling. I used to drive myself hard to be perfect. Now I drive myself steadily to be good enough. But the shame and embarassment of being the worst oarsman in the boat is bad. It can keep you from wanting to row at all, I suppose. It does not, for me. I learned how to fail a long time ago, and understand that I have to fail a whole lot before I’ll be any good. Failing is easier, though, when the people in the boat don’t think failing makes you a failure, or that losing makes you a loser. That commitment to being a success as a boat instead of as an individual is one of the wonderful things about rowing, and one of the things that distinguishes a good boat from a bad one. None the less, not crabbing, and not screwing up the boat, made the morning row even better for me.

We row again tonight. It should be nearly 70 degrees, blue and beautiful. We are hoping to sweep. Yet for the first time, I will not be disappointed if we scull. I just want to get into a boat, and whether I have one oar or two maybe doesn’t matter. Maybe someday I’ll even stroke.

But let’s not get too crazy yet

We got an ice storm last night. Everything is coated and glistened. When the sun comes up, the world will be beautiful.

It makes me so grateful we got the new boathouse last year. With our old shack, half the boats were stored outside. Yes, they had a roof. A corrugated tin roof. No sides. The potential for weather damage (or nesting winter critters) was always high. Now everything is nicely stored inside, in the warm. No ice. No critters. No wind. No broken boats. Not to mention functioning bathrooms and hot water all year long, solid floors you can’t fall through and electric lights. It’s a huge upgrade!

Rowing season is a few months off yet. But at least the boats and I are warm and dry. Eventually the world will be warm too. And then I’ll hear the coxswain’s call again. I can’t wait!

I have been missing rowing lately, craving the feeling of an oar in my hands and the sounds of water trickling under the hull. The erg does not do it for me. I despise it, actually. It bores me like nothing else. Yet I’ve been doing some erging. Mostly feet out, trying to master that. But the erg simply does not make up for the water.

I want to be on the water. Everything else disappears when I am in the water. There is nothing else but the feel of the oar in my hands and the seat sliding under me. I need that today. It is the end of the year, the time when I think about my life and contemplate my future. All week I have been aching with regrets. I cannot forget the Gorgeous One, even though I know it is futile. There is no hope there. But I cannot seem to stop loving him or longing for him. So stupid of me. It is like winter when the river is iced over. There is no use longing to scull, but you do anyway. At least with rowing, you know spring will come. You will be back in a boat eventually.

Work too is ridiculous. It is high risk, low reward, and does nothing for my life except a paycheck. And I can get a paycheck elsewhere. Yet I do not want to move on. What is the difference between stubborn and thoughtful? What is the difference between committed and stupid? Right now I suspect I am between stubborn and stupid. If only it was easier to change course mid-row. But it’s not like I can leap out of the hull and into a powerboat in the middle of the river. Not without doing lots of damage, and I don’t want to do that.

Is that what I’m worried about? Doing damage? How stupid of me! Work will lose nothing if I leave. And the Gorgeous One wants nothing. To him the ties are already severed. He must be alone to be safe. Perhaps as a rower I assume that being in a boat with someone means they are pulling with the same commitment and intensity as I am. Or maybe that’s just how I want it to be.

I wish I was on the water, pulling an oar. Where life is simple even if the job is complex, and if you give everything, the boat will reward you with speed and slickness.

I wish for spring.

I hotseated headraces today.

The first race was a mixed open 8+. I was very happy with that race. We were facing 3 colleges and a high school – our average age was double or triple theirs, not that it matters in the open category. We ended up taking second to one of the college teams by 5 seconds, with our time being 17.01. It was a good row. Overall I was pretty happy with my technique. I rotated around the pin well and stayed long. I kept my weight up at the catch. I shot the slide some, but that is a problem the whole boat had in our 1 and only practice before the race. My blade depth was pretty good. As a whole, we did really well. That was 2 minutes faster than any head race I’ve ever done!

And then I hotseated into the women’s masters 4+. I just had nothing left. Worse, I didn’t manage my brain well between races. I focused great in the 8+, but my brain turned off in the few moments between undocking and redocking. I just didn’t get my brain back in the second race. My eyes were all over the place, and I shot my slide a lot. So did 2 seat (I was in 3) but that is no excuse.

I need to learn how to balance out my technique with everyone else in the boat. If stroke and 6 seat are rowing different, who do I match with? How do I balance out between them? Am I better off matching the swing of the person in front of me, even if they are rushing the slide, or slowing it up? If hte boat is off to starboard, am I better off with a little adjustment or a quick scull to get us right? I don’t understand these things, or how to make the right decision in different circumstances. I’m learning how to DO them, but not when. I wish I had someone to discuss this sort of boatsmanship with, but I just don’t.

After the regatta, a dozen of us went to a restaurant for dinner – all in our smelly spandex and medals. It was really fun. One of my boat mates is engaged to one of my hockey teammates, who was there. So I got to talk about both my sporting loves. It was just a really nice way to end the day.

Now I’ve had a hot shower and 3 glasses of water. It’s time for some stretching and some TV or a book. It was a good day.

17.01 seconds. He he he!!!