The Olympic B Final

We blitz the start. I take us to a 45 for the our high 20. I know how this goes. I have rowed this race. With Tristan, with Steve, with Travis, with Chris. I know how to rip out my own guts and beat the other guys with them. I know how to win in my head before we take a single stroke. “Rhythm!” Our planned call. Let's settle at a 36. Wow, this is fast. Can we sustain this? I don't care anymore. This is what we are going to do, even if I have to die at the finish line. We are a length up. “Beautiful!” Not a planned race call, but it is calming. We keep pushing. No such thing as too much power, no such thing as too much speed. But the load stays light. This isn't a slug fest into a head wind. We are matched. One-pry. Every part of my body has to move at the catch. I feel like I am rowing a quad. “Hips!” His breathing is labored, but this is where I focus on shoving my hips into my foot stretcher with all my power. More arms. More lats. Why is it still so light? We are at the half way mark. Open water. The I see the split. It wobbles. One second slower. Two seconds slower. No, not today. My turn to make a call. “More!” I punch the catch hard and we go to a 37. Back on split. It comes back almost immediately. We are holding Malta by just over a length. “Rebound!” Now it is starting to feel heavy. Seven-fifty to go. Still on split. Still on speed. We are not moving on Malta anymore, they are just sitting off to our side. I am counting 30 strokes to the next call. It comes. “Red Button!” Lets row at a 38. We shave off one, two, three splits. But I know what is about to happen. I can shave a little bit, but I have never been a good sprinter. Too small. So here they come. A length. No more open water. Then three quarters, then half a length. “Win!” The rate cannot go up anymore. I try to row longer, more powerfully. No more speed. This is it. I pray for the finish line, I pray that we are not so tired that we catch a crab. I can see Madden, almost even with me now. Without a sound, I see the finish line buoy pass. Win.

Culmination

"Bring the fury of controlled hell..."

Tomorrow is the first day of racing for David and I at the Non-Qualified Olympic Trials Regatta. We have been in Chula Vista since Friday, rowing the course and getting settled in. We are 100% solid on weight and are anxious to unleash. My body is the most rested it has been since last August when I was taking my annual break. I think we will have some of our best performances of our lives this week.

The field is strong. There is not a single double that I would write off, and it is a privilege to be in the mix with them. All we can do is look inward during the race an observe the result as it unfolds. No amount of anxiety or well-wishing can trump the months and years all of these athletes have put in to arrive at this point. Tomorrow we take our first measurement of our cumulative effort.

Training for the US National Team has been a dream of mine since I first started rowing at Puget Sound and now, here I am at the Olympic Trials, ready to realize that for which I have labored.

Results can be found here.

Long Beach

Dave and I left Seattle on Saturday for sunny Southern California. We have settled in at the Long Beach Rowing Center and are living with my mom as we put the finishing touches on our double. We have rigged up our Filippi K-Rigger to comfort and have gotten the first few shake down rows out of the way. We are on track to make the 70-kilogram average easily and are loving the sunshine and flat water.

There are several other Olympic hopefuls training out of the Long Beach boathouse, including a large contingent from Potomac Boathouse in D.C. and another lightweight 2x. We are friendly and cordial but mostly stick to ourselves. Conal has set us up with a solid taper plan - we only need to execute.

Today we played with a little different race rhythm. For the first time, we have a double that is wired to give us speed, so we can really experiment and respond. We are finding a little more length and focus per stroke at a little lower stroke rate gives us a major bump in speed, especially in the second half of our race when the lactic acid comes on hard. We will have more opportunities to push along with this rhythm tomorrow during some pace work.

Game time. ROOH!

On a coaching note, well done to the racers at Holy Names Academy last weekend. All crew performed well, particularly the Novice 8+ that won the Junior Varsity event and the lightweight 8+ that took the fight to other crews in the Openweight Varsity event. I will miss working with these inspiring young women when I matriculate this Fall at the University of Washington.