The coach 2-

Well, after a very frustrating spring and summer with injuries and general insanity, the Central coaches' pair finally got out on the water this morning. It was the first time in a 2- for me in over seven years. I have always liked rowing the pair more than any other boat, so I've been looking forward to this for awhile.

And contrary to all the snide remarks I'm sure the guys are making, no we did NOT flip. Actually, we had a very good row, didn't hit anything and managed to go straight, thus proving that the old guys do still "have it." Next outing is tomorrow at 6am, and any challengers are welcome from the ranks of the oarsmen. Nobody will be allowed in the first boat that can't beat the coaches in the pair. I might be kidding, or I might not........

Off the erg some more

That is my broken toe, right foot, next to my big toe. Notice that it's just a little......bent.

I was planning on getting on the erg again this coming week, as my back has been really loose and easy. Not for awhile now, I'm on crutches. This sucks.

Next Christmas?

For those who haven't hit this link on row2k, I now call attention to the Streetrower. I'm not sure how well this would do for us here in Pittsburgh (the site says they can customize some gearing), as the hills here are steep and ever-present, but this looks like a lot of fun. Apparently it's even possible to build one of these for a bloke my size!

The only information I don't see on the site is how the legs get involved in the stroke and if it's possible to lay back a little more than I see in these shots. Everyone seems to be rowing a little short in the finish for this coach's eye. But hey, everybody's a critic. It looks like a great idea and I would love to take a Henley vacation sometime to try one out. Any readers out there who've been on one?

These would give an all-new way to look at erg tests, as there is a banked bike track here in Pittsburgh, just over the Highland Park bridge, and a bike path that follows our main training areas on the Allegheny and Monongahela. Why race against the clock when you can race for real, head to head? Those miserable flooded out March weeks might be a thing of the past.....

Thoughts for the novices the night before

Before you push off the dock on Saturday morning, I want you to know you're the most successful novice crew Central has ever had. A lot of people have offered congratulations to the coaching staff, but I believe you, the athletes, are the sole people who deserve the credit and congratulations.

Traditionally, novices are victimized by low expectations. The first year of rowing is supposed to be a learning year, with good fundamentals, awards for "participation," and a few races tacked on to the beginning of regattas as a "bone" to "keep the novices interested." Sometimes the best athletes from the novices are taken from their classmates early, to fill out a struggling 2V or 3V. The rest are politely expected to struggle on, hamstrung, and "race well" or "show good sportsmanship" or "represent the team." These are great characteristics to have, and we encourage them. But in other words, crews with low expectations didn't care if the novices lost.

This year, you 18 men accepted the challenge of higher expectations. In order to meet these, you have trained harder than any novice crew at Central, you have achieved faster erg scores that any novice crew at Central, and you have raced with determination never seen from a Central novice crew. No Central novice has ever pulled faster than seven minutes on at 2k erg, nor has any Central novice raced in the finals at the New Jersey championships, until this year.

When great accomplishments are expected from a person or group of people, many times it is seen as a disadvantage or an obstacle to be overcome. Barack Obama wrote eloquently of the struggles his father had being one of the first Kenyons to earn a college degree in America, football teams with "something to lose" are seen as disadvantaged against teams with "nothing to lose, playing with house money."

However, I disagree with the "conventional wisdom." The only disadvantage high expectations have is the perceived risk of disappointing those with those high standards. If a poor crew that has not trained well and does not expect to do well goes out and loses their race, then they have fulfilled their low expectations. If an excellent crew that has trained well launches and wins their race, they have fulfilled their high expectations, and *most importantly* have defied the risk of disappointment and defeat. That excellent crew would take not satisfaction in their win if there had been only one other very poor team in their race.

Given the choice, when pushing off the dock, I would rather be the team with high expectations than low expectations.

I've though at length this week about expectations, goals and definitions of success. I've become ashamed about what I said to the novices after the race on Sunday. I got too involved in one race and it's outcome; I forgot to recognize the long-term goals that have been accomplished this year. The Central novices are competitive. People talk about our races. The overall level of the team has been raised by the novices. Because these main goals have been accomplished far beyond my own expectations, I have to be proud of this group. Both boats could come in last this weekend, and I would still be proud.

Why? Because they have showed determination, courage and character. They already are the best group of Central novices ever, and are well on their way to being the best class of Central Catholic oarsmen ever.

So do not fear disappointment this weekend, gentlemen. Before you race, take a moment to calm your anxiety and focus on how far you've come. Concentrate within yourselves and within the gunnels. Focus on your blade and your coxswain. Row like you know how and accept the challenge of high expectations, because that is what you've done all year, and that is what will make every one of you exceptional Central oarsmen in the future.

Close Racing

I saw a close race today, between my Central freshmen and FC's novice crew. The final margin was CC by 3/4 of a length or so, and the boats were very close for quite a bit.

I always thought there was something very satisfying about a close race, even if I lost. Matching strength against an even opponent felt like a validation of all the work I had put in, and somehow honored the other guy as well. While there was always some joy in winning by a large margin, I felt some sadness as well. I know how hopeless it feels to get blown out after putting in long hours of practice (I've been there, and it really hits hard), and that is not a feeling I wish on any crew.

A close race validates all the time and energy both teams have put into the sport. Somehow, that hard-fought battle raises both boats up somehow. You want another crack at that team, to measure your progress. There's a measure of respect that a close race imparts between crews, and I would look forward to seeing a team that had barely beaten us again, somewhere, anywhere.

One of the proudest races I've ever been involved in was a race we lost, against St. Paul's school in 1995. Nobody had ever come as close to them as we did, and I took pride in knowing I'd lost to a better crew, but had pushed them to their limit.

We'll see FC again. If not in a race, then during a practice sometime during the coming weeks. My history with that program guarantees it and I welcome the challenge. Both crews will get faster from today's result.

Pain

Back pain. A lot of it. I couldn't move two nights ago.

I have no idea what brought this on. There wasn't a sharp flash of pain moment that told me "oops, I've done something really wrong." Just a gradual tightening that left me unable to walk. I've got some great drugs now to get me through the days, but this really isn't fun. I'm off the erg and working out for awhile, and that's got me in a really bad mood.

I'm working on some posts for this blog, but I'm also fuzzy most of the day with meds. Stay tuned, the editing process takes a little longer these days.

The Cheeseball Moment

Man, do I ever wish life was like the movies. In a sports movie, there is always the practice montage in the second act, and the team struggles through difficult training in terrible weather conditions. The coach gives some nasty little speech to the gathered team after a terrible day; mud is splattered on their faces, they are wet and downcast. The speech is usually some form of "Dagnabbit, you are better than that, you have the talent to be champions, you just have to drop the egos and trust each other." And so the movie continues on, with lovely little moments of the individual players staring out to the field (or river) or sitting alone in a darkened locker room. Then the act closes with the team having more positive practices until there is the moment. That wonderful moment when the sun is shining, the music swelling, the team working perfectly together, the coach smiling and the teammates slapping hands and shouting their readiness to take on the world.

Wouldn't life be nice if it was that easy? Add a cheesy soundtrack, grumpy coach and sullen players who suddenly pull together to win some huge, climatic championship. Pure Cheese. Too bad that's not how real championships are won.

True champions work hard, all the time. They usually get along. They trust each other and their coach. Champions have good practices and do the little details right. Winners do the extra work and take care of their personal lives so they are in the best position to be champions when the time comes in that climatic event.

Champions don't wait for the big Cheeseball Moment in practice. They create little, positive moments every practice. They work to extend those moments longer and longer as the practice season drags into competition, so that they can summon that positive moment at will.

Today, my novices had a good, positive moment in the second session. Boat swing was created. Suddenly, the boat skimmed over the top of the water rather than plowing through. It looked light and powerful. It was a great little moment. I need them to remember how the boat felt then, what they did to make that happen. Most importantly, practice this week will focus on creating more moments like that, so race day can be a Cheeseball, winning moment.

STILL off the water.....but not for long

Well, this year's flood has lasted longer than most, and doesn't look to be going down anytime soon. Well into next week, it looks like. So, we're moving.

The "other" river here in Pittsburgh, the Monongahela, comes up from the south and has a fraction of the flow of the Allegheny. Off we go on Friday for a weekend of "wet launching," mud, screams and (finally) rowing on the water.

I'm realizing now how fortunate I was rowing in Cincinnati all those years. While we did drive out to East Fork State Park every day, some guys in the car for an hour, we at least had good water 95% of the time. There was never a safety concern, even when the lake flooded, because there wasn't any current. Wind was our enemy, but there were always sheltered shores to get miles in.

Once we re-located to the Licking River in Covington, the drive was much shorter and the water polluted. We did get flooding that spring, like any mid-western city. But we rowed on it anyway. I can't imagine going out in that type of high water here in Pittsburgh, I'd get drawn, quartered, and shot. Back then, it was just an adventure to conquer. One and a half hours upstream, and 10 mins downstream. I'M NOT KIDDING! I've never gone that fast past the shore since in a rowing shell. Good times!

The problem now is sitting on shore, thinking about all the other teams that we will race in the spring who are rowing on lakes or other protected water right now. I've got a clock ticking in my mind, and it's counting down to our first race in less than two weeks.

The Yearly March Flood

Well, here it is. Every year, we get out on the water in early March or late February. I'll usually get about two weeks of good rowing in, and get excited about the progress I see my crews making. Then the heavens open up for two straight days and the river rises.

And here we go again.

Again.

Last night, just to emphasize the point, we had hail. It hasn't stopped raining since.

This just makes me crazier than I usually am. I can't stand it. After an entire winter spent feeling the air stirred by the ergs, back we go to the machine. I was doing my workout outside two days ago, and there will be snow flurries this weekend. No wonder I'm getting grey hair.

This is the third most challenging time of the season, after the early February blues and the first row blahs. Going back onto the erg after feeling the water is a nightmare scenario for any oarsman, but we deal with it every year here in Pittsburgh. I don't ever look forward to this, as morale usually slides quickly. Really, who wants to erg when you don't need a coat outside? I start warning the kids about this in January; perhaps a little expectation that it will happen will lessen the blow.

The emergence of other crews from their winter sleep only aggravates the situation, as we all end up bickering for erg time and tank space. I get snippy when asked how long we'll be on the machines by such people. I wonder "Where have you been all winter? Now you want to train? Too late for you, I'm not here to help you out!"

So I trot out some workouts I haven't used that much, just to keep the minds working a little more. I'll join the boys on the erg today and let the coxswains correct us all. I'll make a new playlist on my iPod so there isn't the usual music. And I'll fume. And brood. And stare off the deck at a river that has never cooperated with my plans. I'll tell stories of Todd and "the old days when a little flood didn't stop us" and sound like a nut case. And grit my teeth. Perhaps I'll also find some time to talk to the boats.

Quicky Post

I've got other stuff in the works, but haven't put anything up for awhile, so here's some thoughts.

We're on the water now, and it is a very good thing. The flow and weather have cooperated so far, despite a few REALLY cold days. Guys have made some technical progress, but I'm looking for more, as always.

But, as always, attendance has raised it's ugly face with the return to the water. One guy out sick throws the whole team into chaos. The last two days we've been missing three. The reasons are legitimate, but the results are not.

Next week will start seat racing and selection. I call attendance problems during seat racing "self-selection." But after the boats are selected, problems with practice attendance can still kill a promising season. Read this post. I learned the importance of letting a boat "gel" together a long time ago. Boats just won't win in the spring without consistant practice together. Let's get all these sicknesses out of the way now and get back to rowing.