Last week's training went better than the double effort the week before, in fact it was a very gentle session. I think this was mostly down to the fact that Hayden was teaching a new sweeper (the person who holds the steering oar at the back) in our boat, so more attention was paid to them. I certainly improved but managed to strain the third finger of my right hand. I think I must have some congenital weakness in there because that finger used to go all strange (like didn't work) with a few hours of mountain biking. I still stopped a couple of times but Hayden did shout "good recovery Jon!" at one point when I'd slipped around the boat, was completely out of position and stopped to adjust but got my paddle back in time with the rest pretty quickly. If you do stop, getting it back into the water is tricky at best. Of course, what he really meant was "thanks for not stopping for too long!"
Then, on Sunday, it was the "fun day". I was convinced it was going to be cancelled, it was seriously windy overnight and when I was chucking stuff in the car it started to rain. But no text came from Claire (the team captain) saying it was off so we headed into town. And it was still on! On a drizzling Sunday morning we amassed, trying to find places to shelter and not get wet - funny considering the inevitable splashing. But the water in the southern end of the harbour was indeed calm - the southerly wind not having enough time or distance from shore to gouge it up into waves.
We were in the first race, at nine o'clock and although we didn't help carry the boats out of the shed we did, somehow, end up being the only team that held the boats on the slipway, stopping them all smashing into each other. That was a pretty good warm up in itself, as the wind really could get a good grip on them.
Then, on Sunday, it was the "fun day". I was convinced it was going to be cancelled, it was seriously windy overnight and when I was chucking stuff in the car it started to rain. But no text came from Claire (the team captain) saying it was off so we headed into town. And it was still on! On a drizzling Sunday morning we amassed, trying to find places to shelter and not get wet - funny considering the inevitable splashing. But the water in the southern end of the harbour was indeed calm - the southerly wind not having enough time or distance from shore to gouge it up into waves.
We were in the first race, at nine o'clock and although we didn't help carry the boats out of the shed we did, somehow, end up being the only team that held the boats on the slipway, stopping them all smashing into each other. That was a pretty good warm up in itself, as the wind really could get a good grip on them.
Then we were out into the water.
The drizzle meant we were wet long before we ended the paddle out to the start line.
Out in the harbour the wind made lining up even trickier and those of us that hadn't paddled in a race before discovered just how manic it can be. After paddling around for ages the officials all of a sudden adjudged we had a line and we were off. A bunch of us were taken by surprise and the start was poor. Then we went hard at a pace beyond anything we'd done before. In no time my arms were destroyed by bad technique. How far was it going to be? How long could I last? Then the end. I thought training was tough but this was much harder.
We were beaten by the army, which was inevitable considering they had carbon fibre paddles coupled with huge upper bodies. But we did beat a boat of schoolgirls.
Soaked and cold we scurried off to the just large enough tent that the organisers had provided. Then we got to stand around for quite some time, getting colder. We'd taken along quite a bit of food but I ended up eating a solitary banana. I'd found it hard and thought that the weather didn't really convey much sense of it being a 'fun day' but I was certainly a lot closer to joy on the happiness scale than many members of the team. When I asked Siobhan (another new recruit) how she'd found it she stated simply that she "hated it". She'd hated every second in fact and couldn't wait to get out of the boat. Lots of people were understandably trodden down by the combination of the wet and the cold - the southerly wind cutting through soaking cloth was particularly cooling.
In the shelter of the tent and wearing extra layers it wasn't too bad though, not compared to standing outside waiting to get in a boat. There was no other option but to jump around to keep warm, I felt like I ran on the spot for minutes on end. Finally in a boat we had a new sweep, Hayden being busy with another boat.
The plan for this race was for a slower pace with more power in the strokes. With the veterans confident that it was the way of the team to have a terrible first race I felt confident that this was going to be a good one. In all honesty, I can't remember anything about the race other than the fact that I looked up close to the end, feeling I'd put in a better performance and found that two boats had already bloody finished. I was crushed. We blamed the different sweep, knowing full well that it wasn't.
More wetness and more coldness preceded our race, specifically sitting in a boat in the lagoon waiting for a sweep, but we kept our spirits up by telling crap jokes, each receiving manic laughter. Eventually Hayden arrived in another boat and hopped over into ours. We were the last to the starting line but hopefully made some kind of amends by getting into position in double fast time. Then away, in what was surely a better start. I was going well, keeping good time but fatigue set in hard and I had to rally myself by growling an uncharacteristic "come on", not really to anyone but me. I heard the calls for more reach and think I put in deeper strokes. Towards the finish our drop in pace was painfully obvious but we crossed the line first!
Of the other teams the only one I remember is the survivors of cancer. Hey, a win's a win, and it felt good.
Clambering out of the boat the team was clearly elated, so elated in fact that six members were willing to be recruited into another boat who were down on crew and racing straight after.
All that was left was the dreaded "round the fountain" which must be about 3 kilometers in total. Luckily, one of the other teams only had a half full boat so our team decided to combine forces, meaning that half of us didn't have to do it, only stay to offer some support! Naturally, I made sure to get my sick note in. Happy and knackered I went off to get changed and when I came out, even more good news, the round the fountain had been postponed to some other time, presumably because of the weather, so no guilt even.
Oh, but that means I still have to do it... damn...
The drizzle meant we were wet long before we ended the paddle out to the start line.
Out in the harbour the wind made lining up even trickier and those of us that hadn't paddled in a race before discovered just how manic it can be. After paddling around for ages the officials all of a sudden adjudged we had a line and we were off. A bunch of us were taken by surprise and the start was poor. Then we went hard at a pace beyond anything we'd done before. In no time my arms were destroyed by bad technique. How far was it going to be? How long could I last? Then the end. I thought training was tough but this was much harder.
We were beaten by the army, which was inevitable considering they had carbon fibre paddles coupled with huge upper bodies. But we did beat a boat of schoolgirls.
Soaked and cold we scurried off to the just large enough tent that the organisers had provided. Then we got to stand around for quite some time, getting colder. We'd taken along quite a bit of food but I ended up eating a solitary banana. I'd found it hard and thought that the weather didn't really convey much sense of it being a 'fun day' but I was certainly a lot closer to joy on the happiness scale than many members of the team. When I asked Siobhan (another new recruit) how she'd found it she stated simply that she "hated it". She'd hated every second in fact and couldn't wait to get out of the boat. Lots of people were understandably trodden down by the combination of the wet and the cold - the southerly wind cutting through soaking cloth was particularly cooling.
In the shelter of the tent and wearing extra layers it wasn't too bad though, not compared to standing outside waiting to get in a boat. There was no other option but to jump around to keep warm, I felt like I ran on the spot for minutes on end. Finally in a boat we had a new sweep, Hayden being busy with another boat.
The plan for this race was for a slower pace with more power in the strokes. With the veterans confident that it was the way of the team to have a terrible first race I felt confident that this was going to be a good one. In all honesty, I can't remember anything about the race other than the fact that I looked up close to the end, feeling I'd put in a better performance and found that two boats had already bloody finished. I was crushed. We blamed the different sweep, knowing full well that it wasn't.
More wetness and more coldness preceded our race, specifically sitting in a boat in the lagoon waiting for a sweep, but we kept our spirits up by telling crap jokes, each receiving manic laughter. Eventually Hayden arrived in another boat and hopped over into ours. We were the last to the starting line but hopefully made some kind of amends by getting into position in double fast time. Then away, in what was surely a better start. I was going well, keeping good time but fatigue set in hard and I had to rally myself by growling an uncharacteristic "come on", not really to anyone but me. I heard the calls for more reach and think I put in deeper strokes. Towards the finish our drop in pace was painfully obvious but we crossed the line first!
Of the other teams the only one I remember is the survivors of cancer. Hey, a win's a win, and it felt good.
Clambering out of the boat the team was clearly elated, so elated in fact that six members were willing to be recruited into another boat who were down on crew and racing straight after.
All that was left was the dreaded "round the fountain" which must be about 3 kilometers in total. Luckily, one of the other teams only had a half full boat so our team decided to combine forces, meaning that half of us didn't have to do it, only stay to offer some support! Naturally, I made sure to get my sick note in. Happy and knackered I went off to get changed and when I came out, even more good news, the round the fountain had been postponed to some other time, presumably because of the weather, so no guilt even.
Oh, but that means I still have to do it... damn...
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