Welcome Back!

Welcome back SU Rowers! August marks the beginning of a new academic year and the latest rowing season. Take a look at our tentative fall schedule:

August 23-27: optional pre-season practice
August 30-?: practice each weekday at 4:30pm on the river
August 30: display a double and ergs at Deg to recruit new rowers
September 1: meet and greet with experienced and potential new rowers in the Apple Room
September 2-9: new rowers will meet in the erg room for training
September 3: 5k fun run at 9:00am - meet in front of the gym
September 9: safety video and swim test, experienced rowers will do a stadium run
September 10: everyone to the river at 4:30pm
September 24-26: Susquehanna Family Weekend
September 25: Selinsgrove Street Fair
September 30: Dues must be paid
October 9: Navy Day Regatta in Philadelphia
October 15-19: Susquehanna Fall Break
October 22-24: Susquehanna Homecoming
October 23: Susquehanna Crew Alumni Race at 9:30am
October 31: Dual meet with Penn State University at Howard Lake
October 6: Head of the Occoquan in Virginia

Rob Penaherarra - Guest Blogger

I am so excited to introduce my first guest blogger post. I am happy to write that SU Sophomore Rob Penaherarra spent the summer rowing and is so excited about his experience that he wanted to share it on our team blog.

While this is a team blog, I would like to welcome anyone to the site that may have stumbled upon it, purely of their love for rowing. You are welcome to be a part of our team, by submitting things, by commenting, or just dropping by!

After a summer full of rowing, I was really excited to share my experiences on our very own rowing blog. My summer of rowing started before the summer even started when Coach Rachael helped me during Spring Training to find a boathouse (using the Row2k website) close enough to my house to row in during the time we were off the good ol’ Susquehanna. She and Row2k led me to the Navesink River Rowing Club, where SU alum and former rower for the SU crew team, Chris Meharg, coaches (for those of you who do not know, Chris Meharg is the rower with pretty much all the records in the Erg Room). I was able to speak to him at our scrimmage in Conshohocken, and he told me that I’d be able to take out a single for the entire summer for $200, so after coming home from school in May, I took that deal and became a college rower and member of the NRR.

In the beginning of my time at NRR, I had to take an “orientation” lesson before being able to go out on the water whenever I wanted, and during that test a coach watched me row in a single (or in this case a bath tub with oars—they make first timers take out a very steady, stable…and large single). I also had to take what’s known as a “tip test”, which involves jumping out of the single, so that the coach can make sure that the rower knows how to get back in the boat in case he or she flips in the middle of the river. Although in many rivers it may not be necessary to do this because you may be able to swim or even walk to the river bank, but the Navesink river is pretty much the ocean (actually sometimes when I went out on the water, it was more like ocean rowing than anything else). Also, all the jellyfish in the river around mid July-August is good motivation not to flip! Luckily though, when I went out in the water that first time and jumped into the river, it was jellyfish-free (by the way I am proud to say that the only time I flipped was when I did it on purpose).

After the orientation row, I was home free and able to take out boats whenever I wanted. In the beginning of my time rowing I would take out singles, which was a great experience. The single is a great way to improve technique on the water, even without a coach right next to you, and that’s because even if you mess up some part of your form-you miss some water with your port oar, your oars aren’t level at the catch, you move around a little during the recovery-you feel it instantly and you are forced to fix it. As varsity rower Katie Messler once told me, “rowing in a single is a very humbling experience” and it’s very true—you have no one to blame for your mistakes but yourself, and you have to fix them yourself. It’s a very different experience from being in a boat with other people, and only certain people are made to be in a single. After rowing in a single for a little while, I learned that I’m not the type to race in a single, and I craved to be in a boat with other rowers.

Lucky for me, there are quite a few college rowers at NRR to row with. The last half of my rowing experience (actually the majority) this summer took place in doubles, quads, and even a four! I was able to get in contact with other college rowers, and we set up times for all of us to go out on the water together. Most of the time, I’d row in a double with a coach at NRR, Yang Chen, who just graduated from Notre Dame and rowed on the Men’s team (he was at Spring Training in Oak Ridge with us-what a coincidence!). I also rowed in a quad a few times, I actually stroked a quad for a race on August 8—we came in second, and only a few seconds away from first. I was really happy with the way it turned out as that was the first time all four of us rowed together. I even rowed a four once during the summer (the only time I swept over summer), I was stroke in that boat also, which was fun but it was a little challenging for two reasons: the boat was port-rigged and although I have experience on port side, I am more experienced with a starboard oar. Also, towards the end of the row, the water became very choppy (one of many times I might add, I guess that happens a lot when you row on an oceanic river).

Rowing this summer was an invaluable experience. It gave me the chance to be on the water whenever I wanted (which will hopefully help me during the academic year when we’re training for our regattas), I made friendships with fellow rowers that I wouldn’t be able to make anywhere else, and I also learned to scull which was awesome—I’m still trying to decide if I like sweeping or sculling more. And even though I had all these great experiences on the Navesink River, I missed my teammates. And rowing in the summer got me really excited to row with them and train for regattas again! I’m looking forward to it all—not too long now!- Rob

In need of rowing inspiration...

This time of year is always an exciting, yet sad time of the year for me. Working in higher education, August signals the end of my rowing season and the beginning of school. Luckily for me, that also means my team returns. While I won't have much time to row myself, I get to work with a new crop of college rowers and also have a chance to push the rowers I have worked with even further.

As a part time coach you have to make the decision to invest time and energy into your own exercise regime or your teams'. For me, coaching does not mean living vicariously through my rowers. My accomplishments are my accomplishments, just as their accomplishments belong to them. Coaching comes from a desire to impart knowledge, love, and passion for the sport unto others. While I am still working on the knowledge part, I know that I have the love and passion part down pat.

Rowing is something that has the ability to suck you in, so deep that you cannot imagine life without it. Having lived without rowing for two years, I can tell you that it was a sad experience! Arriving to graduate school in fall 2005, my first day in Student Development Theory I, I announced to the class that a large part of my identity was that of a rower. While we often talked about the impact of race/ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender, spirituality, socio-economic status, and ability, sometimes we failed to recognize that there are other experiences that really make us who we are.

Rowing has without a doubt informed my values system -- when it comes to health, leadership, teamwork, trust, integrity, work ethic, and so much more. The term "student athlete" became very important to me, even if I had never identified as that in high school. I can't express how much rowing has taught and influenced me. I'm going to attempt to compile a non-comprehensive list...

Balance. Harmony. Rhythm. Synergy. Laughter. Trust. Limitlessness. Passion. Technique. All about the two most important wrenches (7/16 and 3/4). How to change a tire and tighten a lug nut. Nutrition. Yoga. Pilates. Running. Frisbee. Sledding. Splits. Race plans. How hitting a buoy before a race can be good luck. How similar Susquehanna and Virginia Tech look on the water. Knowing that when someone is cheering for Virginia Tech, they are cheering for you. Always send someone to hold the cafeteria door or you will miss dinner. Spandex can be fashionable. Epsom salts are not just for the elderly. It is possible to fit six people in a two door car. Fresh new boat smell is better than new car smell. Always bring your own tissues or TP to the port-o-potty at the end of a race day. The weather will be as nasty as possible during a race. Oar locks can freeze shut. Lightweights usually travel with a practice scale. Teammates last forever. The races you win might not always be the most memorable. You are only as fast as you practice. Erging. Rowing is yoga on water. Head of the Charles is magical. Guts. Lactic acid hurts a lot less than giving up does. Switching sides is not the end of the world. Coaches never stop moving on race day. Bubbles under the hull can lift your spirits. Rowing looks effortless but is dirty, smelly, and not for the faint of heart. A real rower is a McGuiver. Good rowing is like meditating. I always know the height of the Susquehanna (usually the discharge too). I assess weather based on rowability. I watch people at the gym who are erging incorrectly. Sometimes that means I give them an impromptu lesson. I can raise my voice easily. I always wear layers and carry around a water bottle. I believe a group is stronger than an individual. I thrive when I am working toward the greater good. I used to have "race plans" for writing papers (writers block was always the "third 500"). I check Row2K almost daily. I am proud to have a strong work ethic for all that I do. I want to know your 2k time and I will judge accordingly. Good rowing gives me goose bumps.

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.

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.

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.

Trailer Monkeys

Surely it looks like I could up my game when it comes to posting. I supposed I haven't been feeling that inspired to write. I have been moving apartments and offices, and can tell you when my physical space isn't in order, I can't expect my head to be in the right place either.

I am a huge proponent of keeping equipment organized. I give Coach Jim some serious praise for the order he has kept our shed in. Not only does he know where things are, but it isn't difficult for any team member to find something that they need.

Susquehanna also has the tradition of having a leader to load the trailer. The position goes by many names, but is a nod to the art of learning just how everything can fit onto the trailer. I like to think of this position as being an apprenticeship of sorts, passed down from one Varsity rower to the next. It takes a lot of stress off of coaches and puts more of the responsibility onto the rowers for their own equipment.

Spring Break 2005 - Sarasota, Florida at the Osprey Oars Rowing Club

I think it is funny how people tend to naturally fall into several categories on derigging days:

• Organizers - they are the ones that know if the bow numbers are packed, where the electrical tape is, which oars still need to be loaded, which riggers belong to which boat, and where the tarp gets strapped. They are the ones others look to in order to keep the loading going. They are the question answer-ers and the ones usually able to keep others in line.

Rachel Fetrow, Tim Barnes, Rachael Gebely, Ashley McConnaughhay, and Andrew Addison - March 2005

• Trailer monkeys - the first ones to climb the trailer when the boats are being loaded. The ability to stay balanced while holding expensive equipment, dangling from a metal frame is most desired. Usually eager and good spirited, but the ability to crack jokes is optional.

Andrew Addison, Tim Barnes, Brian Nalls, and Brendon Wirth - March 2005

• Brute force - the first ones people look to in order to get the eights on the highest racks. These are usually the rowers most likely to be seen in the weight room and are some of the most competitive team members.
  
• Worriers - someone who has to double check the shed to make sure everything was loaded, double check the straps to make sure the boats are secured, and reminds everyone what time the bus is coming. Coaches can be both thankful for and worried by such behavior.
  
• Go with the flow'ers - always willing to lend a hand, grab a wrench, or carry a boat. Often these are your novice rowers, who are interested to learn, but aren't yet able to discern the priorities of what needs to be done first.

Katie Messler and Nick Fritz loading oars - Spring 2009

• "I'm trying to look busy, but I'm not really doing anything" - these are the team mates who skillfully avoid work and dirtiness of any kind. If a motor needs to be carried, suddenly their shoelace is untied. They conveniently have to go to the bathroom when boats are being loaded, or have to review some paperwork or go talk with the coach during an informal boat meeting.

Joe Klass, Chris Chizeck, and Christine Magee (Boat Mastress) - Spring 2009

Personality Traits in an Eight

A piece of writing by Mike Sullivan that has stood the test of time...

Sully's Personality Traits in an Eight - Feb. 1976

"Here's my long awaited theory on personality traits of the different seats of an eight. This assumes a straight port-stroked stern coxed eight.

I would guess that a straight starboard stroked boat would be fairly similar, but that ports and starboards are as different from each other as men are from women - I know from personal experience being bi myself (sided not sexual). I've long noted differences in personality from port to starboard in myself. This for another day and perhaps when under the influence.

Therefore, a bucket rigged port stroked bow coxed eight is not included in this theory.

From the stern:
Cox: It's pretty obvious what traits a cox must adopt and tries to learn to do a good job in this most unique position in the athletic world. I'll pass on the leadership stuff, napoleon complex garbage, and point out a secondary characteristic or two that coxes unintentionally inherit after riding in the box for a while.
They can't drive a car anymore. They take 10 miles to change a lane, oversteer, can't find the brakes, and yell to the car a lot. This has nothing to do with the coxes' former driving ability. Stick Richard Petty in a cox seat for awhile, they'll take his driver's license away. Coxes also begin to squint a lot, no loss in vision, they just squint.

Stroke:'It's a tough job but only I can do it.' The meekest, most frightened non-rower in the world; when plugged reluctantly in the stroke seat, stays meek up until the first few strokes. The first few paddle strokes, a thought grows in the wimps' sniveling little mind that this job is his/hers for life. Back on the shore, the real personality will percolate back to the surface. 'I hope you guys could follow me ok.' In the boat they're thinking: 'stop rushing, you weenies!' Strokes are born and made to be the most competitive person in the boat by far, and if they stroke long enough, become overly competitive in everything they pursue, or don't pursue. Don't expect to finish a game of Monopoly, Risk, or Golf with a stroke. The only one that can beat him to the chow line is the three man (more later) because the stroke was delayed trying to put more oars away in the rack than anyone else.

Seven: the seat is the Bitch Niche. I don't know if whining, overly bossy, big-mouthed complainers are born, and I can't believe that the cosmic effect of this seat could possibly be so instantaneous, but you could teach Mother Theresa to row in a tank, stick her in an eight at seven for the first time, and as the stern four is rowing away from the dock, she'll turn around and yell at the bow four to 'set the f*cking boat.' The longer one rows at seven, the more sophisticated and complex the bitching becomes, changing from a crude verbal rowing suggestion to the six man in the early stages to long winded level- voiced reasoned treatises after every piece explaining why the crew is slower now than last week. Ever wonder why when a coach drives up shell-side to ask how a piece went he says: 'So how did that go, fellas? -not you seven.' I was a team captain, looked up to leader of my college crew, kept my mouth shut and did my job. I raced one week at seven, my coach told me to 'shut up Sullivan' in a post race meeting. Women who deal with severe PMS mood swings will find those swings totally disappear after some time at seven. Permanent OTR.

Six: If you bred Arnold Swartzeneggar with a Golden Retriever, you get a six. Six is also Seven's yin. The gentle giant, gorilla in the mist. Six absorbs most of Seven's bitching and keeps it from moving through to the rest of the crew. Six nods and agrees a lot. It is a hard thing for a normal person to row Six. It seems like such a great seat, your're in the stern, the boats more stable here, but when you are done with a rowing career at six, you find you have been used. Sixes are characterized by great competence in execution of rowing and life, but poor self confidence and a propensity to self-flagellation. Take your 3 year stroke out of the stroke seat and stick him/her at six for a week. This will be the first time you ever hear him/her say: 'My fault, fellas,' at the end of a poor piece. Sixes meditate. Sixes marry, go to work for, and lend their power tools to sevens. This support system keeps sevens with thriving businesses, mates they can walk all over, and a garage full of power tools at their disposal that they don't have to fix when they break.

Five: God. Yahweh. Allah. Buddha. It's not that the five seat IS those things, its just that's how (s)he gets treated. Five's stool don't stink, the catches don't hang. They're the older brother or sister that gets special treatment, and has no idea. If a photo is taken of the crew, five will look great, everyone else is caught with shirtails out, and snot on the lip. At heart and soul, five forgets to change oil, pay phone bills, and turn in forms to the IRS. Five is an example of what happens to a bum that is treated like a king, they act like one. Five has the greatest delta between image and reality. The fortunate thing is that the unearned unabashed worship lasts only as long as the time on the water. Five's on his own back at home. Five wears aviator glasses.

Four: The Amnesia-seat. Take a genius with a photographic memory. Row said genius at four. Listen to him ask for the third time in the same warmup, 'How many of these 500s are we doing?' Four seat is not stupid, just has immediate and catastrophic memory loss. At a start and 20, four settles at 21 because in the time the cox yelled 'settle in two,' he forgot. In a Novice boat where the seats have been removed and cleaned, it'll be four's that went back in backwards. Four will forget to tell the boatman about his(her) stripped rigger nut - usually from the time he is told by the coach, until he arrives at the boatman's bench wondering what he's doing there. On that first day on the water as the ice is breaking up, who is rummaging around the back of the boathouse looking for a sweatshirt? Four is why racing shirts are handed out on race day.

Three: Late in the water. Late to practice. Late to class. Late to work. Late out of the water. Late to his date. Late to the team bus. Late for everything but chow line. There is no competitiveness involved here, just an uncanny knack to have the first three rowers into the dining hall stopped by friends for a brief discussion while three breezes on by to the tray stack. Three generally gets assigned a sitter.

Two: Lean to the left, lean to the right, stand up, sit down, fight fight fight. Cheerleader. What is amazing, is to sit at four or five after a particular piece - seven is whining about the balance, the spacing, no swing, rushing: two is back there with pom poms saying: ALL RIGHT GUYS! LETS DO THAT AGAIN!... Two calls out names of power 10s. 'Awright guys - OAR CLASH TEN!' If he says something funny, he repeated something the bowman prompted him with.

Bow: Comedian. The bow seat creates a strange fatalism. They know that in a catastrophic collision, they'll be the only one to die or get paralysed. Consequently there is a constant quiet stream of one-liners that two or three could probably hear if two were not cheering loudly. If the bow is joined by a cox in a front-loader, this trait completely disappears, since someone is now likely to hear him joke about three being late, five not pulling hard, or the coxn's course looking like a signature. (S)he can be humorless and witless off the water, but on the water when there is breath to spare, you're sure to catch a chuckle if you listen.

Conclusion:
There is no possible use for this info. You don't necessarily stick your most competitive athlete at stroke. Stick anyone there and they'll get competitive. It takes a long time for some of these seat traits to manifest themselves in personality disorders, but you can usually catch subtle differences the first day.
Just this fall, doing a temp coaching for the first couple weeks of the season, one of the crew was sick one day. I'd laid out a plan of drills to reinforce what we'd spent some intense teaching time on the day before. We were also going to get a couple few hard miles in at a low rate by sixes. I had a sense that I'd do the crew more good by filling out a seat for them than by yammering from the launch. It makes the transitions go smoother in the sixes rotation and I figured I could watch them while not rowing. I told the crew what the work and goals were of the day. Then I told them I'd row four (missing port). I left the clipboard behind knowing what we were going to do. We rowed away from the dock, the cox started us going with what I'd verbally laid out. Halfway through the workout, she asked me 'what's next.' 'What's next what?' says I. 'What's next in the workout, coach?' (I honestly wondered why she called me coach at that moment, and couldn't remember the workout.)

I also suddenly remembered I was supposed to be watching rowers' blade depths while I was out and hadn't been.............. Four. "

I'm a self-professed rowing nerd. Rarely a day goes by that I don't check Row2K, Rowing Illustrated, or some other rowing related site. I enjoy catching up on the Boards at Rowing Illustrated every so often, and like this thread about who goes in what seat.

Filling a boat line up takes strategy. I like to think about both the physical and mental aspects of each rower when determining where they go. There is a lot to be said about technique and power, but sometimes it just takes a certain personality to make things fit. Also, the boat line up needs to end up working all together, so interpersonal relationships tend to influence how I set a boat.

Everyone can argue about who should the boat be built around -- the stroke? six? For me, one of the most pivotal seats to get "right" is seven. It may be the "bitch niche," but I also have come to think of seven as the bouncer of the boat or protector. Seven is in charge of stopping any rush from bow six -- the bodyguard that makes sure nothing gets to stroke. If seven isn't in time, the rest of the boat probably isn't either. It's a good seat for someone who needs to be in control.

In my entire college career, I was never stroke. I fully identify as combination of five and six (where I finished my career). Where do you fit in?

Future Blog Post Topics

Here are some of my thoughts on future posts:

• Hand Care for Rowers - epsom salts, Neosporin, fabric band-aids, New Skin liquid bandage, and taping secrets


• Lightweight rowing


• Susquehanna's travels to Head of the Charles


• Celebrating our graduates


• Personality traits in an eight

Fabulous and Free Workout of the Week

I'm spending the holiday weekend in Connecticut with Phil. On Saturday we got a chance to go hiking together with our friend from college, Dave. While on the hike, I started to think about how hiking can be a great workout, and better yet, it is free!

Our destination? Craig Castle in Meriden, CT. It wasn't a particularly grueling hike, but we kept a good pace and challenged ourselves.

As a rower, it is important to concentrate on how your body feels during every piece and every race. A competetive rowers is all all too familiar with the burn that emanates from their quads or other parts of their body. Running on a treadmill or elliptical bike can be thankless. It is all too easy to not challenge yourself if you fall into a workout rut. Hiking is great exercise that challenges your muscles by demanding precision and balance in your steps, stamina to make it up (or even down) steep inclines, and focus and mental strength to keep going.

I suppose the same can be said about mountain biking, but that means you need a lot of specialized gear (a good bike and gear can be more than 1g). Mountain biking also demands an intense level of coordination. Speaking coordination (or lack thereof), I did take a small spill on the hike. It was toward the end, on flater terrain with a small slope on the side of the road. We were going quickly and my shoes slipped on some loose gravel. I sustained a nasty scrape on my knee, but other than being a little bruised and sore, I should survive. On that note, always hike with others and take proper safety precautions.

Find a local hiking spot today and enjoy the holiday weekend!