You Live, You Learn

Today, I decided that I do not enjoy tapering weeks. The fourth and final week in our training cycle, it is the week where we do light workouts and prep for an extremely rigorous task, usually a 2k. Practice on Monday and Tuesday was short and generally light. Today, we had off. And tomorrow, I will be expected to erg a 2k. Personally, I think this is absolutely preposterous.

As I noticed with the last tapering week that was scheduled, I have not been doing as much. Granted, this is the point of the tapering, but this is not something that is beneficial to me. I am spending less time at the gym, lowering my standards on my performance and still consuming as much food as I do when we work hard. Now, I am not as concerned about the food I am consuming, because overall, it is perfectly acceptable. But not going all-out for the workouts is what is really concerning me.

I went through the training cycle once; this was just preliminary. Now that I have been through the cycle again, I can pick out tendencies that I have according to the week and its corresponding workouts.

Week one, I get back into the groove of doing work. Week two, I progress. And week three—the week of my least favorite test, the 3 x 5k—is when I actually peak. I know that I am looking toward that particular task at the end of the week and so I work as hard as I possibly can all week. In fact, I decreased my split by about 5 seconds from the first 3 x 5k test to this past Saturday’s test, without anyone siting on my tail to remind me of my goal split.

But these tapering weeks are absolutely killing me. The light workouts and copious amounts of time to rest are just slowing me down. I went to the gym today (even though today was the resting day, seeing as our 2k is tomorrow) and attempted to row a serious 2k, as fast as I possibly could. I didn’t finish. I probably could have. But I just let myself stop at about 1,300 meters. If that were in practice, I would never hear the end of it from my coach.

Tapering weeks are not only stifling my physical performance, but they are completely destroying my motivation. I felt so awful today when I let myself stop in the middle of a piece. I did so well this past Saturday and I just let it all go today. A split-second decision to not push through, when I know very well that I could have, ruined all of the confidence I gained over the past week and a half. Now I feel so discouraged for my 2k tomorrow, which is arguably the most important test we have.

And so the moral of the story: I should not be upset (although you better believe I am). Rather, I should take this experience and build upon it. Next tapering week, there is not a chance that I will be taking anything easy. I preform best when I keep on going, trucking ahead at full speed. It has taken me some time, but I have learned. This is just one more step towards me becoming the most successful athlete I can be.

Inches Away

Last week was a calm week. Well, that was the calm before the storm. On Saturday morning, I went to the 3 x 2k test. I actually did just how I wanted to. My aim—which I did not actually think was realistic for me—was to get my split (how long it takes you to row 500 meters; a good split for women is around 2:00 minutes/500 m) between 2:10 and 2:12 for the three 2ks. My average at the end of all three, cumulative was 2:11.5—spot on.

More than hitting a personal goal, I gained recognition from the varsity coach, Pete. This is kind of a big deal in my world. To be a rower, there is a certain body type that is ideal. Naturally, the taller you are, the better your stroke and faster your splits will be. Some of the girls on my team are upwards of six feet tall. And so being short is a HUGE disadvantage. Lucky me, I am one of the shortest members of the team and so I was really behind everyone else from the beginning.

My coach sees that I can do whatever she needs me to, if I have the mental capacity to do that. She knows that she needs to really push me, but since I do deliver, she does take the time with me. The varsity, on the other hand, does not waste his time with me. He has better rowers on the varsity team that have the foundation for being truly accomplished rowers, so he works with them. It does not bother me—he is shaping medal-winning rowers and I know I am not there yet.

But as I sprinted the last 300 meters of my second 2k (a very tiring point in the 3 x 2k process, I might add), my coach was working me through the meters. As I started the last 300 sprint, she whispered, “Pete’s watching. Let’s go, get on it.” So I kept my form and upped my concentration. With that, I naturally started bringing my splits down; I ended at a 1:59. As I paddled out that 2k, I heard Pete say, “Alright, I’m impressed. I’m impressed.” I never thought I’d hear those words, even when I got promoted to varsity. So to hear that from Pete at this stage in the game was more than I ever hoped for. It made the calm week I had behind me, full of technique and building my mental strength completely worthwhile.

And that was not the end of my encouragement. My coach has been paying particular attention to me since this past Saturday, putting me with some of the tallest girls on the team, as well as in stroke seat. Both situations exemplify the progress I have made and the capabilities I can now reach. Being able to successfully row with girls who are a foot taller than me is one of the best compliments my coach can give me, putting me in that situation, and one of the best positions to be in as we approach our upcoming spring season.

Being short is only a handicap if I allow it to be. Although not everyone may remember a point that Keith made in his speech this morning, he mentioned how in high school, Michael Jordan was deemed too short to play basketball seriously. The word “short” caught my attention, and the entire phrase resonated with me. Just as Jordan said in the commercial, either he ruined the game of basketball or everyone else is just making excuses. I refuse to make excuses. 

Going the Extra Mile...When It's Least Expected

Crew is a sport that is continuous. All year 'round. It never ends. And yet, this week is oddly calm. We are still involved in our winter training program, waking up every day to train as hard as possible and believe me--we are doing just that. In fact, this morning, my coach had me sprinting to the point where breaking was a serious issue. I was not happy, to say the very least.

The only "event" that comes to mind is that I am coming off of an illness, which caused me to miss our weekly test last Saturday. With our trip to Bucknell and my illness, it has been awhile since I have had to test and I will be jumping into a 3 x 2k test this Saturday. Bu other than that there is nothing of exceptional importance that is going on.

And I am learning that these weeks are just as important. It is great to PR (personal record) and it is encouraging to get out of a hard practice, but weeks like these--when you simply go through your routines--are equal to those weeks that I got sick and PRed.

This seems like an odd claim, I know. But the calm weeks are the weeks I need to give more. THIS is the time where I make those minute improvements because they add up and that is the formula to success. I need to do more now, when it is least expected of me. I twill be harder to motivate myself on a personal level during a simple week like this, yes, but these are the practices that count.

As the phrase goes: "Good, better, best. Never let it rest. Until your good is better and your better is best."

This is my chance to go that extra mile, and then make that mile my standard. Now is when I push my boundaries.

Mistakes are Life's Best Lessons

Cyclic processes are logical. There is a beginning, middle (stages) and an end. About a month into the semester, I am now realizing that crew practice moves in a cycle. Week one: train hard, finish the week with a 2 x 6k test (two 6ks, with a four to five minute rest in between). Week two: train hard, finish the week with a 3 x 2k test. Week three: train hard, finish the week with a 3 x 5k test (this is by far and away my least favorite test). Week four: taper—in other words, light workouts, most likely with a race or other event at the end of the week.

This past week was our tapering week, which we finished with the Erg Armageddon at Bucknell University. That’s all well and good, but now we’re back to the beginning. Week one of the cycle, training hard and looking to a 2 x 6k test on Saturday morning. While this should seem like no big deal, seeing as I’ve already been through the process, I am feeling the pressure to improve.

Last week, my tapering became a free pass to not to go the gym as much outside of practice. With that, because I was not as conscious about going to the gym, I was not as conscious about what I ate either. I need to get back in my zone. I need to get back to the weeks where I pushed myself.

I’ve found that with crew, and really any other activity, the less that is expected of me, the worse I will preform. I work best under pressure. If you give me a simple task, I will not see it as a challenge and therefore, will not give full effort in my execution. But if you present me with something that is difficult, whether it be mentally or physically, I will give everything I have—and then some. Chances are, my results from the difficult task will be better in comparison to my results from the simple task.

So I encountered my typical simple-task-laziness last week. And while I preformed sufficiently at Bucknell, I know I could have done better. I went so far last time, but this is a new cycle. I need to go harder, be better and learn from my mistakes. 

Anticipating the Most Intimidating 7 Minutes, 59 Seconds of My Life

The field of athletics is an interesting one. On the surface, sports are all about physical condition. Running, lifting, pushing your body to the limit—this is what athletics are all about, right? Not quite. There’s so much more.

Sports are a highly mental activity, as anyone who has played as apart of a team would know. Personally, I can attest for the mental intensity of crew. In fact, I’ll be so bold as to say that it is more cognitively trying than it is physically. Just to give you an idea, I know of a girl who walked onto the crew team at the University of Pennsylvania. She was a girl of a larger stature, but she sat on an erg (an ergometer, or erg for short, is an indoor rowing machine) for the first time and pulled a 2k in 7 minutes, 30 seconds. The fastest erg time recorded for a woman, as of November 2011 is 6 minutes, 28 seconds. Needless to say, her first-time 2k was more than slightly impressive.

Sprints, which is the type of piece that she engaged in, are generally more intimidating than distance pieces. Rowing a 6k gets tiring, but rowing a 2k requires you to constantly be monitoring your pace and every function of your body, as you pull as hard as you possibly can.

And like it or not, I am coming up on my first 2k piece this weekend. There is an erging event at Bucknell University, where my coach is expecting me to pull a 2k in 7 minutes and 59 seconds. Am I nervous? You bet. Why am I most nervous? I am a collegiate rower. In the past couple of weeks, I have had to rectify academic situations, among other things and my mind has been pulled in several different directions. Not being able to give all of my mental energy to my sport has been really rough on my training.

Regardless, I know I need to pull it together. I need the right balance of food groups in my diet to be in my best condition,  I need all of my energy, and I need to (momentarily) forget the scheduling issue I have been dealing with; I need all of my willpower channeled towards those eight minutes I face on Saturday. Because for those eight minutes, I am giving that erg, my coach and myself everything I have in me. After all, it’s only eight minutes. Correction: 7 minutes, 59 seconds.