Welcome to the Susquehanna University Crew Team Blog



What started out as a workout log has quickly turned into a blog dedicated to preserving the history and accomplishments of the Susquehanna University Crew Team. It also exists to provide information and resources for team members to become fitter and smarter athletes, and to gain the motivation and determination necessary to becoming better competitors and teammates.

Welcome and feel free to comment on all things rowing!

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Sweet Single Life

My rowing confession of the day -- the only time (before last week) that I have rowed in a single was on Spring Break this past year. As a college rower, the emphasis was on team boats, and Susquehanna only had access to a training single that took on way too much water. It was orange and was so slow that we jokingly referred to it as the "Orange Blur," which somehow implied that it was fast. Pat Johnson '03 was the only person that I knew who rowed the Blur. Pat had excellent technique and as a Philly native, spent the summers rowing small boats with one of the clubs on Boat House Row.

I was always in awe of Brian Yocono '04, Pat Johnson '03, Joe Gibbons '03, and John Cerniglia '04. They rowed an amazing lightweight four that seemed to literally fly on water. As lightweight men, they understood that their strength stood in their technique and execution, rather than in raw power. They had a poetic grace, but could leave you in the dust on the race course.

I took out the "Bob Long" last Wednesday, a single bequeathed by a former CPRA member. I suspect that Bob takes on an awful lot of water too, since I picked it up there was water sloshing inside that made it incredibly difficult to handle. It wasn't too heavy, but the water shifted the balance of the boat while carrying it. Luckily I had a little help in lowering it into the water. It is an older boat, but is still very smooth.

My first experience in a single was so focused on not flipping (who wants to take a spill in early March?) that I wasn't able to fully appreciate the experience. With all of the coaches on the water helping with four Learn-to-Row boats and an additional four of experience CPRAers, I had the lower part of the Susquehanna all to myself. My first shove off of the dock wasn't exactly successful, but the wind and a little hand paddling helped me get back to the dock. Take two was much better.

The water was unsettled at first, so I stuck below the intake in order to quickly get back to the dock in case the conditions worsened. The Susquehanna is the type of river that can change quickly. I often watch the flags on the Rt. 61 bridge to determine the wind direction and watch for any strange cloud patterns. The longer I stayed out, the better the water became. It was a new experience having so much river all to myself and the calm quietness that comes with not having a launch or boatmates around.

The single offered me a chance to really listen and every so often I like to close my eyes to hear and feel what I am doing in the boat. Without a coach nearby, that is the easiest way I know to correct my own technique. I am much more technically proficient with my starboard blade, so I do have a tendency to pull slightly toward port. I have been focusing in the larger boats on cleaning up my port finishes and continued to do the same in the single. My only mishap of the day was squashing my left thumb between the handles, so I considered it a very successful row.

I still haven't decided if I am the type of person who rows a single. Everyone always talks about how it takes a special type of rower to be self-motivated enough to be able to push themselves in a single. Coach Steve Loaiza firmly believes that I am too social and chatty to be a single sculler. However, I love the freedom of spinning the boat around by myself and knowing that am the only one that needs to make corrections to make the boat fly. I can see how a single could be frustrating, but at this point I think it is a terrific training tool to help me become a better rower.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Too Hot to Row

What a sad week... it is too hot to row. With temperatures way above average, I am sure that the last three days have reached 100 degrees. With next week beginning our second session of CPRA Learn to Row, I sincerely hope that the weather cools down.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Like Nails on a Chalkboard

I began the summer coaching the Central Pennsylvania Rowing Association in an intensive week long back-to-the-basics rowing camp. Head Coach Steve Loaiza and I created a "lesson plan," and spent each day with a different focus. The aim was to help experienced rowers dust off their skills and prepare rowers of all levels to have a successful summer rowing season. We received a lot of positive feedback from members and as a coach it was helpful to break things down to essential skills and sections of the rowing movement.

I coached a little more, until I went on vacation and returned to the river to find that someone had swiped my launch motor. At first I thought that someone was playing a joke on me or that the motor was being serviced. Unfortunately that was not so, but on a positive note, it did enable me to get back to rowing.

I spent much of last summer rowing in a double with a Bucknell graduate student who had rowed in high school and part of college. Physically and technically, Renee and I were a good match for each other. We even had the opportunity to compete at the Navy Day Regatta and the Masters of the Susquehanna. I say with great certainty that I am in no where near the shape I was in in college, but really appreciated the opportunity to compete once more. In between rowing the Empacher, I coxed a lot last summer, specifically for Learn-to-Row.

Each year, CPRA hosts two "Learn-to-Row" sessions, each session has five days to teach community members how to row. Adults of all ages sign up, usually out of their interest in kayaking, water sports, interest in exercise, wanting to do something for themselves, or having always had a fascination with crew. For some, LTR equates to a fun, week-long camp and a new skill that they learned. For others, their LTR experience encourages them to join the club and row for the rest of the summer (and future years).

This year, we had our first LTR session about three weeks ago. I got to cox and be an "exemplar" rower. I'm a bit of a Chatty Cathy, so coxing during LTR is always a fun opportunity to share stories with new rowers and help talk them through the motion. The nice thing about sitting in the coxswain's seat, as opposed to the coach's launch, is that you never have to worry about shouting over the motor, drifting too far away from the boat, or leaving the boat alone. The downside to coxing new rowers as an experienced rower is that sometimes you just want to do something yourself - like turn the boat around.

I have had to cultivate a certain kind of patience for Learn-to-Row, that I probably didn't have as a young rower. In college, my team had one coach. Every boat had to share one coach, and even with several practices a day, attention may have been difficult to come by in the fall season when it was time to teach novices how to row. Boats were separated and dived up to run land practices or teach in boats. Varsity boats were sent off to practice on their own. This is a common issue even today on the SU team, even when there are two to three coaches on the water. It was frustrating to want to get faster but not have the help, but it was also understood that this was a sacrifice that needed to be made in order to grow the team.

Back to the idea of patience --- I really think that in order to work with Masters rowers, it is important to be understanding, relateable, and positive. For many of the people who are taking LTR, this is the first time that they are trying something new in years. I liken it in many ways to what it is like learning how to drive. I remember being scolded by my driver's ed instructor -- "don't move your whole body to look in the rear view mirror". At the time, it seemed so hard. Now, how many years later, I can be looking directly at the road, subtly glance to my rear view mirror and have an understanding of what is around me without missing a beat. What I once had to train my brain and body to do is now natural. Rowing is very similar in that it takes time, but once you learn to row, it is ingrained in your muscles and brain. Just like riding a bike.

So, to learn how to row, you need to give yourself a free pass to make mistakes. A lot of women tend to obsessively apologize when they are in the boat. As an experienced rower in that boat, you have to help them understand that you are willing to give them time to help them develop their talent. While it is important to be personally responsible for what you are contributing to a boat, if you make a mistake, just make the next stroke better.

Now the part that can sometimes be more trying to me... listening to and feeling the boat are two very important sensory activities for a rower. As a rower, I fully recognize that I am chasing perfection, striving for equilibrium, and oneness with all things. The only things that I really want to hear are the smooth journey of wheels and squaring on the recovery, one crisp catch and strong drive, and a clean release, only to repeat again. You just know when you hear it. It's the sound as a coach that gives me goosebumps as I see a boat racing down the course. (Check out the 22-42 second mark of the Canadian Men's 8 video below).



Remember that I said "perfection." This is not something I'd expect to hear during a LTR session, so instead I usually hear blades flapping on the water, multiple different catches, a barrage of comments from the coxswain and coach with a motor humming in the background. Sometimes it seems like so much background noise I can't even hear what my own blade is doing. That is when things start to sound "like nails on a chalkboard." Bad rowing is painful to listen to, as well as experience. However, this type of experience has challenged me to work on my own skills (I'm not perfect!), rather than blaming or being accusatory toward new rowers.

Coach Steve looked at me last week and said, "boy, I can tell you are a Susquehanna rower from all the way down the course!" Apparently I have taken to pulling into my lap with my port blade close to the finish. He thought for sure I would catch it, just by listening to my finishes. With the LTR din of various sounds, it totally escaped my attention. It didn't necessarily "feel" wrong and I couldn't hear it. It was such a small change, but I definitely have to use my body markers to more consciously think about where I am pulling in to. With infinitely more sweep experience than sculling, I still have a bit more to learn and internalize before I acheive technical prowess as a sculler. So yes, I even need some paitience with myself, in addition to others.