This past weekend was the Head of the Charles. We had 1 women's eight and 1 men's eight. Both rowed well, but the women placed better than the men--perhaps 10 out of 24. The men did not place in the top half, disqualifying us for next year.
Mondays after race day means we get to re-rig the boats coming back from the race at 5:30 AM whether we have raced or not--a sore spot for me--but I try to smile, suck it up, and take one for the team, with dreams of dancing pillows still swirling in my head.
Rigging is a natty business, trying to figure out which riggers go where, chasing bolts and washers as they dash to the ground and escape from bondage.
After rigging, we took the Baron out for a short row--about 40 minutes. It was a simple excercise--sixes on the square, up past Three Sisters and then back with the same. The focus was on no hesitation at the catch--keeping oars only 1 inch from the water; rowing the arms after half-slide so as as to back the blade into the water; and making certain that the oar is fully connected with the water before kicking with the legs..
As we rowed upstream, the gentle warmth of an unseasonable fall morning enveloped us, as the full moon rose in the Virginia sky.
Monday, October 25, 2010
October 19, 2010
There's an excitement about launching a boat into the quiet darkness of an early fall morning: you can't see at all and it doesn't matter anyway because sometimes we row with our eyes closed as an exercise to increase our feeling for the momentum and sounds of the boat and oars on the water. But my eyes are open, and the feeling of pushing back against the darkness is singular.
At moments, I am engrossed in my rowing and focused on correct rowing technique--slide control and catch timing. But then I remember to look up at the morning, and for several strokes, I have one of those "where the hell am I" moments.
As we approach about 100 strokes above Key Bride, the water level is still black, but above the Key Bridge, the early redness of a day hangs like a magnificent velvet curtain. There was no talking in the boat, and I savored the quiet rhythm of the moment. Our exersise was to row low and long all the way up to Fletchers Cove with a focus on form and energy at the drive. It was a day when things seemed to come together well, and there was satisfaction that maybe we can row well after all.
At moments, I am engrossed in my rowing and focused on correct rowing technique--slide control and catch timing. But then I remember to look up at the morning, and for several strokes, I have one of those "where the hell am I" moments.
As we approach about 100 strokes above Key Bride, the water level is still black, but above the Key Bridge, the early redness of a day hangs like a magnificent velvet curtain. There was no talking in the boat, and I savored the quiet rhythm of the moment. Our exersise was to row low and long all the way up to Fletchers Cove with a focus on form and energy at the drive. It was a day when things seemed to come together well, and there was satisfaction that maybe we can row well after all.
Monday, October 18, 2010
October 14, 2010
There are days when everyone is in the zone; and then there are days like today. I was bow seat in a 4 with Ira, Mark, and Ted at stroke. Some line ups work, others are OK, and then there are those that just don't work at all. The latter was the case today as we battled each other all the way upstream with every issue under the sun--er--stars.
We started off with a reverse pick drill by pairs. Immediately there were catch timing issues with stern pair--possibly attributable to the fact that Ted is about 6'6" with really long arms, and Mark is about my height or even shorter. When it came to bow pair, Ira and I were better matched, but hardly perfect.
Our warm up went up past Three Sisters whereat we picked up all 4 for what would be our exercise for the rest of the morning: 10 light strokes followed by 20 medium strokes and then 20 full pressure strokes. These sets were a struggle all the way upstream: 3-seat had his oar on the water all the way up and we were down to port the entire way. Port and Starboard timing was off on every single stroke.
For me, a difficulty was that stroke was not squaring up the blade early so every catch seemed to be a surprise. Because stroke seat has long arms and was getting hands away fast (as he should), the other 3 oars were not coming away from the finish at the same rate, hence oar angles were off. 2-seat was pretty measured in his recovery, but coming out of the finish, he was skying his oar on every stroke.
After we turned around at Fletchers, we did more sets of the 10/20/20 all the way back to the barn. Some of these sets felt OK, but we were unable to achieve any consistency and were often down to port. We must have done 5 sets before turning around at the Roosevelt Bridge to come home. I think the moral of today's story is that with a good line-up, many of our individual transgressions can be covered up; and with a bad line up, they are magnified 100 fold.
We started off with a reverse pick drill by pairs. Immediately there were catch timing issues with stern pair--possibly attributable to the fact that Ted is about 6'6" with really long arms, and Mark is about my height or even shorter. When it came to bow pair, Ira and I were better matched, but hardly perfect.
Our warm up went up past Three Sisters whereat we picked up all 4 for what would be our exercise for the rest of the morning: 10 light strokes followed by 20 medium strokes and then 20 full pressure strokes. These sets were a struggle all the way upstream: 3-seat had his oar on the water all the way up and we were down to port the entire way. Port and Starboard timing was off on every single stroke.
For me, a difficulty was that stroke was not squaring up the blade early so every catch seemed to be a surprise. Because stroke seat has long arms and was getting hands away fast (as he should), the other 3 oars were not coming away from the finish at the same rate, hence oar angles were off. 2-seat was pretty measured in his recovery, but coming out of the finish, he was skying his oar on every stroke.
After we turned around at Fletchers, we did more sets of the 10/20/20 all the way back to the barn. Some of these sets felt OK, but we were unable to achieve any consistency and were often down to port. We must have done 5 sets before turning around at the Roosevelt Bridge to come home. I think the moral of today's story is that with a good line-up, many of our individual transgressions can be covered up; and with a bad line up, they are magnified 100 fold.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
October 12, 2010
We are gearing up for the 2010 Occoquan Chase on Sunday October 17, so our daily practices continue to focus on our fundamental technique in several areas:
First, our catch timing which we address at very low ratings as we warmed up on the reverse pick drill. It's quite analogous to playing a piece of Bach or Beethoven on the piano a tempo, and then trying play the same piece at half tempo: it's easy to gloss over technique at a high rate of speed; but to test if you really know that piece, attempt it at half speed and all the shortcomings of technique become very apparent. Aunt Nancy taught me this over 30 year ago when I played a Bach invention for her on the piano. She then said "That is lovely, Lamb, but can you play it for me again at half that tempo?", whereupon my performance fell apart utterly.
The lesson is that control and mastery come at the slower speed, and that what we perceive as brilliance at the higher speed is in fact a cover-up. In the case of rowing, the cover up comes at the higher rates at the expense of ratio, precision in catch timing and release, and slide control.
Today, the morning was lovely, dark and deep. We rowed upstream through the utter blackness 70 or 80 strokes into what feels like a primal stretch of ancient river untouched by man, though we know that just behind the curtain of trees are highways on the VA side, and fancy homes on the DC side.
To begin, we rowed 6s on the square just up past Three Sisters to warm up and work on catch timing. After a brief pause, our exersise was 2 minutes on pressure at a 28-30 rating, followed by 1 minute off. In terms of balance and timing, I think today was a really good day compared to some other recent practices. There is still some crashing into the catch with the shoulders, and yanking back with the arms and shoulders first rather than driving the legs down first--then bodies swing back to finish.
At our first pause close to Fletcher's Cover, it was still dark, but the most subtle suggestion of daybreak began to assert itself against the blackness of night. Yet still, only the ancient silhouette of treetops could we perceive from our position mid-stream.
At this point, Nancy reminded us that we need to maintain pressure with our feet on the stretchers throughout the drive. That sounds so simple, but it takes a lot of concentration and effort.
After turning around to head back downstream, we had more sequences of 2 minutes on, 1 minute off. I think we did well in each of these pieces and really maintained focus and energy. We still need to work on application of power at the drive, but in general, I did feel this week a lot of improvement on slide control and some of the other basic techniques that are easily forgotten without constant focus.
First, our catch timing which we address at very low ratings as we warmed up on the reverse pick drill. It's quite analogous to playing a piece of Bach or Beethoven on the piano a tempo, and then trying play the same piece at half tempo: it's easy to gloss over technique at a high rate of speed; but to test if you really know that piece, attempt it at half speed and all the shortcomings of technique become very apparent. Aunt Nancy taught me this over 30 year ago when I played a Bach invention for her on the piano. She then said "That is lovely, Lamb, but can you play it for me again at half that tempo?", whereupon my performance fell apart utterly.
The lesson is that control and mastery come at the slower speed, and that what we perceive as brilliance at the higher speed is in fact a cover-up. In the case of rowing, the cover up comes at the higher rates at the expense of ratio, precision in catch timing and release, and slide control.
Today, the morning was lovely, dark and deep. We rowed upstream through the utter blackness 70 or 80 strokes into what feels like a primal stretch of ancient river untouched by man, though we know that just behind the curtain of trees are highways on the VA side, and fancy homes on the DC side.
To begin, we rowed 6s on the square just up past Three Sisters to warm up and work on catch timing. After a brief pause, our exersise was 2 minutes on pressure at a 28-30 rating, followed by 1 minute off. In terms of balance and timing, I think today was a really good day compared to some other recent practices. There is still some crashing into the catch with the shoulders, and yanking back with the arms and shoulders first rather than driving the legs down first--then bodies swing back to finish.
At our first pause close to Fletcher's Cover, it was still dark, but the most subtle suggestion of daybreak began to assert itself against the blackness of night. Yet still, only the ancient silhouette of treetops could we perceive from our position mid-stream.
At this point, Nancy reminded us that we need to maintain pressure with our feet on the stretchers throughout the drive. That sounds so simple, but it takes a lot of concentration and effort.
After turning around to head back downstream, we had more sequences of 2 minutes on, 1 minute off. I think we did well in each of these pieces and really maintained focus and energy. We still need to work on application of power at the drive, but in general, I did feel this week a lot of improvement on slide control and some of the other basic techniques that are easily forgotten without constant focus.
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