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.