You’ve probably been wondering what that ‘dilemma’ in regard to the scheduled 12km Sunday run I hinted at in my last post was about, right?
You may even have been wondering why my caped image has been conspicuously absent from the Comments section of your blog posts the last few days, eh?
Oh. You haven’t?
Right-o then. Just carry on. Nothing to
see read here.
Well, okay, so just in case you have been wondering….
Here’s a clue.
Too obscure for you? Okay, here’s another more obvious one.
Still haven’t worked it out? How about this very obvious clue?
Well, if you haven’t worked it out by now, there’s no hope for you at all.
Last weekend I competed in my first rowing regatta at Rutherglen in Northern Victoria. Hosted by the Murray Rowing Association (founded 1861), it is the oldest regatta in Australia.
I was competing in a Female Coxed Quad Scull race and a Mixed Coxed Eight race on each day – 800m on Saturday and 500m on Sunday.
last fourth in our race on Saturday morning but apparently we were coming second until about 250m out from the finish. We hadn’t thought we were in contention. We had borrowed a very young cox from another rowing club and while she was very encouraging, I think it would have been helpful to know how close we were to the pack. (It’s hard to know where you are when you’re racing backwards.)
The Mixed Eight race was great fun. The eight is a sweep boat which means you use one oar – a bit different to my usual sculling with two oars. We came second in that race.
It rained all day Saturday – unusual for Rutherglen – but the sun came out for us on Sunday.
Sunday’s races were quick 500m sprints. Our cox for the Quad was a wonderful, very experienced member of our club and the difference was this:
My first ever regatta medal!
Drama was to come in the Mixed Eight race. We started well and were clearly in the lead when, barely halfway through the race, the boat in the lane next to us suddenly veered and ran into us. We stopped and the Stroke’s* hand flew up to raise a protest. The umpire looked at the other two boats who had continued to race down the course and told us to keep rowing. We took off like a rocket, powering that boat on sheer outrage. And we almost caught them. Had the course been 50m longer, we’d have still managed to finish first. At the finish line, the Stroke’s hand went up again. This time the protest was upheld and there was to be a repeat race, the boat causing the accident being ineligible to compete. The three remaining crews made their way back to the start line and we set up to race the course again. This time we were not so smooth in our method but still had strength and speed on our side and this was the result:
My first regatta and I scored two medals and experienced the adrenaline of a protest and repeat race (a rare occurrence I am told). Oh, and we also scored a bottle of wine each as a prize for our Quad race in addition to the medal. (We’re not sure how that happened but I think I can live with it.)
Now, have you figured out the dilemma?
How to fit in a 12 kilometre training run in the middle of a rowing regatta?
Maybe I could swap the 12km run with the 5km one on Tuesday? And/or maybe I could fit it in between my morning and afternoon races?
Problems: 1. It was ridiculously muddy from all the rain on Saturday and I wasn’t really interested in slipping over and breaking a leg; 2. I felt I owed it to my crew mates not to turn up to a race with already tired legs.
So here’s the spreadsheet as it currently stands:
“But where’s the red box?”
Right. There isn’t one. You will note, however, that there is a green box out of alignment. So I’ll explain. After packing up the boats
and a four hour drive home, arriving at 11.30pm on Sunday night, I got up at 7am on Monday and ran my 12km run. And you know what? It was one of the easiest runs I’ve done yet. I fairly bounced around that trail on the fun and excitement still coursing through my veins.
I figured that entitled me to just move the green box.
And that last green box? Getting up to row at 6am this morning, I should have known that this
would, when it came to running my 5km later in the morning, turn into this
I still ran. Of course I did. I’m more than a little insane.
Besides, it was kind of exciting to pass waterfalls and lakes on the usual run:
One last thing. Anyone who knows me well will know that what I am about to say is difficult for me. The Inner Critic has a very loud voice in my head and doesn’t often allow things like this to be said, but here goes:
I am incredibly proud of everything I have achieved in the past few days and I think I’m amazing.
But I won’t let it go to my head.
*The Stroke is the first rower who sets the pace for everyone else to follow.