Finally, a row on the Connecticut River

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This morning marked the first row of the season on the Connecticut River. Freezing rain and six inches of snow are predicted to hit the Hartford area over the next couple of days. Brilliant. With the impending and inhibiting weather, I’m reminded to take every day on the water as a bonus right now. Hartford is proving to be a difficult place to be able to get some serious rowing time in. The Connecticut has a habit of flooding, on top of the snow and continuously turbulent weather that keeps training limited to dry land work well into the month of April. Regardless, this morning was a necessary break from the erg, and solid reminder of why I’m a helpless but happy prisoner to rowing.

A PR in the 2K test this past weekend has me more eager than ever to get to work on the water. Training has picked up in volume and more intense strength training on top of increased hours at the office, so fatigue has been rearing its ugly head recently. The full-time job situation makes it difficult to allot adequate time to recovery and rest. If anything, rowing has taught me the importance of true recovery: Eat, hydrate, and resting are the essential actions to support successful training. So simple, yet sometimes so difficult to execute.

Here’s to warmer weather and more mornings on the water.

Pride on the Shelf, Feet in the Water

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Just over seven days ago, I was returning from a full training week of rowing in South Carolina, exhausted from pushing myself physically, mentally, and emotionally on levels I hadn’t experienced in a long time or to an extent, ever. My first day out on the water (probably my 10th time ever in a single), and in the midst of trying to keep up with the other elite rowers during a speed workout, I swamped my boat and ended up going for a little dip. After the realization that the water wasn’t as cold as I had expected and the fear of hypothermia had subsided, I threw myself back into my boat as quickly as possible and hurried down the racecourse at a steadier, controllable pace. Surprisingly, I wasn’t embarrassed but rather angry. I wasn’t expected to be “winning” the speed workouts; I don’t really know if there were any expectations attached to my performance on the water that week. I still couldn’t help but be angry and frustrated. I quickly learned there wasn’t time to dwell on the mistakes, and I couldn’t expend the energy dwelling on how poor of a rower I was at that moment. The week was about gaining experience and repetitions. For lack of a better term, it really was about getting my feet wet. I was killing it on the erg, on the safety and comfort of dry land. Now it was time to see what I was really made of and how well I would be able to move a boat. I got more than I bargained for.

The training week was critical on several accounts. Progress of my rowing skills from day one to day seven was worth the quick dump in the water. Talk about being thrown in the lion’s den or fire or whatever metaphor comes to mind, I was forced to sink or swim (again, it seems impossible to get away from the water/boat puns). I grew more in those seven days as a rower and person than I have in any other setting. The emotional gamut ran from days when I wanted to break my oars across my knee (no, I did not attempt this…) to the afternoon when my coach said, “Meghan, you look like you are actually rowing…” to the last morning row when the fog was breaking across the smooth, glass water reflecting a southern sunrise and the only sounds were the light splash of your oar breaking the water and the slide of your seat as you eased into the catch.

Back from camp, back to reality-it’s been a full week of training mixed with a full week of being back in the office and juggling “life” and “rowing” -it seems the deeper I get into rowing, the more it becomes “life.” No complaints from me. Every morning, I wake up looking forward to the painful but fulfilling relationship I’ve entered. Torturing myself to pull a PR (Personal Record / Personal Best) in a 6K erg test this morning and knowing that the hard work I’m putting day in and day out is actually paying off is a rewarding, accomplishing feeling. Flipping my boat and having my butt kicked by (albeit, the top Juniors in the country) a week ago forces me to remember that it takes putting pride on the shelf and forgetting your ego, to truly embrace starting from the ground up and having the confidence to know you will reach the top.

erGOALS…

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I have always encouraged others to make sure they take a moment to enjoy the small successes achieved along the way in working toward the larger goal. The road to reaching any accomplishment-whether it’s publishing your thesis or dissertation, finishing a long-range project at work, to training to be an elite rower-is long, difficult and inevitably filled with setbacks. So the importance of taking time to recognize the smaller successes is vital to keeping your confidence up and the momentum going. We all know what it feels like to be “stuck” or in a rut. It comes in the form of writer’s block or maybe you just can’t seem to shave off that extra second on your 2K to set a new PR (personal record) no matter how diligent you are about your training and how hard you work. There are far too many days we are all hard on ourselves and too few that we give our own back a congratulatory pat.

Last week was a big week for my training record book. I pulled a new PR in both the 2K and 6K erg tests. Still on the steep side of the training curve, I am seeing significant results with almost every test so pulling new PRs isn’t anything new. The difference in these PRs was I succeeded in reaching two goals I had set for myself which felt pretty damn good.

A little over two months ago, I set out a list of my goals I knew I needed to reach this year. Buying my own boat = check. I’m madly in love with my Hudson single. Breaking the 7 minute mark in the 2K (pulled a 6:56 for my new PR) and breaking the 22 minute mark in the 6k (pulled a 21:59 for my new PR) = check and check.

You can kind of see the “21:59.9” in the picture above. In my state of gasping for oxygen and forcing myself to take light strokes to properly cool-down, I managed to snap a picture…like a proud parent when their child does something for the first time, I was a little excited…just barely broke 22 minutes but hell, I still broke it. That was true pain and what a lesson in how important every single stroke can be.

Time to set some new goals.

Ergs Don’t Float…

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For many, that can be a brutal reality. What you do on the erg does matter in terms of volume and building your base. You have to work to develop your fitness; that’s a no-brainer. But as anyone knows, it means close to nothing if you can pull an unbelievable 2K or 6K time with handle and chain, if you can’t move a boat with oar and water. Maybe you’ll win the hammer at CRASH-Bs but I’d much rather win a Gold at Worlds or the Olympics. Just my two cents.

So, I finally bought my own boat last week. Cross that off the list of goals set for the year! It is February 8th and I couldn’t be more excited to take MY single out on the water. Hurry up warm weather. The idea of having my OWN boat is exciting, scary, and a bit of a reality check. I’ve been putting in the time on the erg and in the gym; now I’m putting in the money, personal investment and commitment to truly go after a dream. There is something unbelievably powerful and yet frightening in acknowledging the reality of climbing that high dive ladder and jumping straight into the deep end. It looks real nice to talk about it with your feet dry and on the ground, but taking the plunge is an entirely different experience.

Hudson 1x

Hence, why I have probably experienced a little bit of the “holy shit” feeling of a little fear but mostly positive anxiety over the past week. There is nothing easy about putting in the hours of hard training-waking up at 5:30am (or earlier), then putting in a full 8-10 hour work day…only to finish your day with a second 1-2 hour workout. Truly it is easy to “play National Team” and train in the safety of name-your-boathouse, facility, or gym. Putting in the time can be physically tough and perhaps mentally strenuous if you’re balancing a family, friends, a job, or simply your life; but I keep reminding myself that this is the easy part. The hard part comes when I’m getting destroyed in the first few (or dozen) races come April and May. Taking a physical beating is easy to recover from: you rest. Taking an emotional beating takes guts, perseverance, and the ability to put your pride (because, let’s face it all athletes have egos) on the shelf for a while.

Bring on the high dive. Ready to jump in headfirst and get a little wet.

Crash and Burn: When the Erg Wins the Battle

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Sunday was a rough day to say the least. Evidence of that is that it has taken me a snowstorm and 3 full days to get this post written. But finally I’ve been snowed in and forced to finish. It is easy to talk about training and success; not so easy to talk about training and failure. Painful. I haven’t felt defeat to the degree that I felt it around 11am that morning in quite some time. We had a 2K test as part of the training plan. Going into the test, I was amped. I knew that I had been kicking ass with my training over the past month; my time could only be a personal best, right? Not exactly. My goal is to break 7 minutes in the 2K (for those of you who haven’t felt this pain, the 2K row is basically sprinting a mile as fast as you can). For females, making it sub-7 in the 2K is a “big milestone” in erg testing and separates you into a competitive, elite group of rowers. I’m the ambitious type and like to think I’ll be pulling in the 6:40s at some point soon. I’m just getting started and while I’ve progressed quickly-I learned a bit of lesson in patience this past Sunday.

In The Battle of the 2K, the Erg won the battle. I did not break 7 minutes, I didn’t even reach a new Personal Best, which was the most disappointing. I was pissed, upset, and may have even pouted for a hot minute. As an elite athlete in other sports, I know defeat and I know how to recover from defeat so I didn’t allow myself to get too down, but I couldn’t help but beat myself up for the better half of the afternoon. The brilliant thing about rowing and the training that goes into it is that you truly are responsible for your own success. While that idea extends to all sports to some degree, there are variables that sometimes impact the outcome of a softball game or volleyball game that you have no control over. The umpires may suck, and the beast on the other team hit a grandslam with bases full of runners that your pitcher walked; you can’t control that…unless you’re the pitcher, then you should’ve threw that curveball with a little more zip.

This obviously is not me, but sums up just about how I feel after completing a 2K test.

Beating your time on the erg or water is up to you and the preparation you put into it. Looking back on those 2,000 meters, if you fail you spend hours breaking down each set of 500 meters and analyzing every pull. At what point did I let it go? What could I have done differently? Did I over train? Did I not train hard enough? Was I too ambitious with the splits I planned? The list goes on and on if you let yourself dwell. All excuses and reasons aside, you didn’t hit your mark. So how will you approach the next test differently? If you win and reach the goal you set out for yourself, (once you catch your breath) you do a little dance and let the adrenaline of the punishing workout and success take you on a high the rest of the day.

Life would be too perfect if you were putting up personal bests every time you tested. You must have defeat to know true victory and be reminded that you are human. Rowing does that to you. Knocks you down after lifting you up, but you keep coming back for more. So when the erg wins the battle, make sure you come back to win the war. 6K test this weekend and I plan to annihilate it.

I hated every minute of training, but I said, “Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.” - Muhammed Ali

You Are a Rower: Fact.

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As a former volleyball, basketball, soccer, and softball athlete (notice, all multi-player, ball team sports) I recently experienced a little bit of a “denial” phase that I can now consider myself a rower. In college, the rowers were always nice people-perhaps a little odd to me. I mean being involved in the sport has to attract a certain kind of person…and mental capacity. The rowers I knew in college woke up at crazy times in the morning to go workout in the freezing cold ON WATER of all places, only to come back in the afternoon and do it all over again (I have found quickly that this is still the case in my post-college experience with rowers). I have learned to love 5:30am. My training partner said the other day: Rowing builds character, but it can build two kinds of character. It can build the good kind of character in that it truly forces you to dig deep and find the best that is inside you. To be successful at the sport you have to be committed, you have to have discipline, and you have to have passion and truly want to row. There is very little fame and money in being a successful rower (if there is, please enlighten me!). You do it because you love it. Which actually segues to the other kind of character rowing builds. The crazy kind. It seems there exists a fine line between the two, but rowing can lend to building “the crazy” character as well. Some of my close friends may disagree but I plan to stay on the sane side of things. Borderline, but sane.

You’re defined by one of two sides. “Oh hi, what are you?” I’m a port. I’m a starboard. And the little ones running around-I’m a coxswain…”a cox-what? Why are you so tiny? Are you the midnight snack for all these other beasts?” Take one look above and tell me that thought doesn’t cross your mind.

Ohh and the spandex. Don’t get me wrong, I played volleyball for much of my young and college athletic career so I know what it is to live in spandex. We lived and died by our spandex-it’s the only reason we had fans in the stands half the time. But the unis or “onesies” as I affectionately call them are just special. But what is it with the crazy designs and colors? It’s the 80s meets the water….I don’t hate it. Can’t help but love it. Where else can you get away with wearing something like this and still be a badass?

A telltale sign that “I had arrived” and must accept that I am truly a rower is the large Concept2 model D ergometer that I have living in my dining room. Makes for a great conversational piece when guests come over. For those long 75-100 minute pieces, I swing it around to face my flat screen TV and row down a river of Grey’s Anatomy, The Office, and Parenthood episodes thanks to my DVR…I am a Rower: FACT.

Last but certainly not least. Rowing takes its toll on the body. Looking at the benefits first, it turns your body into a rock-hard, toned machine. I feel like I could run for miles upon miles on the aerobic base I’m building if only my knees and joints would come along for the ride. I truly feel as though I’m close to being in the best shape of my life…at 26 years old. Okay, that’s not old, but I’m not 18 anymore. As I said. Rowing takes its toll on the body. My hands look like feet. And they look like bad feet. I worked up this lovely blister just this morning. It’s one of my better ones. And rowers truly wear them as badges. You earn your blisters like you earn your stripes. My rowing partner turned my hands over the other day and took a look, “not hard enough, yet.” I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that my hands were not yet calloused like a fine hard leather. My mother would be so proud (note, sarcasm). Gone are the days of soft, lotioned hands….or at least for the next 6 years or so.

I am a Rower: FACT.

Resolutions to Rio

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So I might be a few days late but I think resolutions are to be made on a continual basis. Who’s really watching deadlines? Don’t get me wrong, it is wonderful to mark the turn of a new calendar year with (hopefully) life-improving statements and more importantly plan(s) for follow-through and results. But resolutions shouldn’t be limited to the 3-2-1 count and dropping ball.

My 2 cents on goals and resolutions: for every long-term, far away goal, you should always identify 1-2 that are short-term and quantifiable. Can you measure your success in a clear-cut way? A year or really, life is a long time(because again, we make resolutions throughout the course of our entire lives rather than just when 365 turns back to 1). Without those shorter, attainable goals to boost our confidence and provide direction along the way, when the going gets tough, it can seem to get even tougher. The long-term goals are made to force us to reach and push ourselves. Obviously some should be realistic and attainable, but throughout our lives we should also be setting goals that at first glance may seem off the reach of easily possible. Those are our DREAMS. They’re the ones that keep us up at night; distract us during our day jobs (unless you’re one of the lucky ones and your day job is your dream); and make us start writing a blog about the journey to reach that goal. They make us continue to stretch further, work harder, and do everything we can to get close enough to touch, if not grab hold of whatever it is you set out for yourself to achieve. If you grab it-hold on tight and enjoy the ride. Dreams should never be taken for granted.

All clichés aside…without further ado and in no specific order, here are my rowing resolutions, goals, and dreams for the next year and possibly beyond.

1. Break the sub-7 minute line for my 2K. My current Personal Best is 7:04.8 that I pulled this past October. This was prior to any real training so many variables come into play for me to consider. The past 2 months I have been busting my ass to increase my anaerobic base and put my body into the best shape possible. In that time, I’ve also managed to learn how to erg correctly-not perfectly (yet)-but correctly and that alone will improve any score. I have a 2K Test coming up this Sunday (1/9). First shot at hitting one of my goals.

2. Break the sub-22 minute line for my 6K. I’ve mentioned this before and it really is similar in nature to the 2K goal above. My Personal Best stands at a 22:32 which I pulled in December (12/18/10), smoking my previous 22:49 out of the water. I know with the right amount of training and simply just time spent erging, I’ll be able to break 22 minutes in no time.

3. Buy my own boat. It’s kind of like growing into my big kid pants. Every real sculler needs their own shell. Once the ice breaks and the weather warms up, it’ll be time to get a real boat and really start racing. The singles (single sculling, 1-person boat) that I’ve been in before were by no means racing shells. They were bricks with huge logs for oars. Rowing in the fast, sleek racing shells will take some getting used to and breaking in, not to mention disciplined budgeting and saving. Boats aren’t cheap. Bring out the penny bank.

4. Medal. Kicking butt on the erg doesn’t bring home the hardware. You have to be able to translate your hard work, speed, and strength onto the water. That is the true test. My goal is to race and race well. Granted, it will take some time to get my sea legs, and I’ll have many losses before I see a true win; but I have no doubt that by the end of the year, I’ll be making some noise at the finish line.

5. National Team “looks.” That noise will hopefully translate into the type of message I want to send. I want to compete at the highest possible level and that in the simplest of words, means the US National Team. This first year is primarily about a couple of key things: 1) Training as hard as I possibly can to push my body into the kind of shape it needs to be in to truly compete. I have the physique, now I just need the fitness. 2) Truly learn to row well and start winning races, proving that I’m a competitor. If I can make sure to take care of those couple of things, a lot (not all, but a lot) will take care of itself. Results speak the loudest and there is no substitute for results.

I’ll keep it at 5 for now. All these things lead up to that big dream goal: Rio. I have 5 years to get there. There will be many resolutions to Rio made along the way, but this is definitely a solid start.

Elite Athlete and 2016 Olympic Hopeful. Passion for adventure and appreciation for the journey.

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