We left the dock today!
And rowed.
Kind of.
Eight of us get in the boat. Mind you, this is not a big boat. It is small, narrow, and round though it weighs a ton, as I've mentioned earlier. You don't have room to stretch out much, or if you do then you better make sure you're stretching at the same time other people are stretching. Plus, you are pretty close to the water, like three inches from being in the water.
Narrow boat. Small boat. Especially when the person in back of you starts rowing and if you are not--you're going to take an oar to the kidney.
We rowed in pairs today. The other folks who weren't rowing had to keep the boat level. That is harder than rowing. You have to constantly adjust the handle of your oar so that you rest the blade flat on the water.
Then when we row, it's first arms and back, then with the legs. I was in seat 5, which means I was just about in the center of the boat. It also meant I didn't get a lot of time rowing--seems like the people in seats 7/8 and 1/2 do the most, just for steering purposes, mainly? I wanted more time rowing. Peter says that we'll rotate seats, which is good.
The class is mainly women, with 1 guy, now 2, as of today. This is my bone to pick, which I will get to in a sec.
At first I messed up. I was backing, instead of rowing. So I was pulling the boat backward, not forward. I don't know why I spaced this; I suppose it will be good when I have to, uh, back out of somewhere. Why did I do that? I don't know.
Then it was 5/6 turn (6 is in front of 5; so, as 5, I have to watch what 6 is doing and go in #6 rhythm. This is fine, and woman in front of me and I soon do well and are at a good rate, and the oar pulls through the water and there is that kind of...delightful pull, where you smooth through and there's like a fluid resistance but a yielding, cooperative resistance. I like that.
And then, because there are 8 people + the cox in the boat (Juanita, back again), and we had 9 people today. One person hangs out in the launch boat with Peter. This time, it was the new guy. And here is where I begin my "huh?":
Dude missed first 2 classes. You know, the ones where you learn how to row? So unless he took 2 other classes in a previous series and missed the rest and is making it up now, dude should have waited until the next go-round. I am surprised that they let people do that--join when they missed the classes that showed you how to do. You can't sit in a boat and watch other people row and then be assured you know how to do it.
But hey, maybe he got some classes on the side, or is a former rower, right?
Not so much. At least not in my opinion. Dude swaps out seat 5 with Heather and I have to watch him and his technique is awful and it's not consistent and it's just way, way too fast. It's not like I row like creepin' jesus, but OMG. Ungraceful, bad, lame, and of course seated in front of me. It was like, weirdly frantic or something. I couldn't do what he was doing, and yet, I had to! At one point I accidentally nudged him in the back with my oar. Serves you right for being such a flail, dude. Cox and Peter, I think, tried to get him to slow down, but by that point I looked like a bad rower, and you know what? I don't think I am a bad rower. I know it's not a competition, but I want to do a good job! And that's the thing about rowing; you can't do a good job if the person in front of you is doing a bad one. You have to copy. You have to copy it even if they are doing a bad job.
I'm an only child. You can imagine how well this sits with me!
No reason for a rant, really. I am feeling mean and sorry for myself. I hope it passes; I spent much of this weekend in a fugue state and I can't blame it on a hangover. I've been prone to depression all my life, am going through some stuff basically unrelated to 12Tries and which I don't feel much like discussing (J and I are fine and I have my health and all that, so blah blah blee), and I fear that will tip me over into something I've been trying to avoid for about 12 years or so--the return of the Sad.
But getting back to rowing: It was fun. I just wish I would have gotten to row more. It's hard!
J asked me when I came home this morning: "So what are you going to do with it?"
I don't know yet. I still have 7 more days in the water. Then there's an intermediate class if I want. But the thing is, you always need a group. I was never much for group sports; I like the solitude of running--sure, it can be better with a partner, but at the same time, you have to get it done, partner or not, otherwise you'll be a real bitch until you are able to do it.
Kind of like sex in that way.
I'm just learning, right now. That's all I got.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Glad and Sad
Second rowing class this morning.
We spent some time watching a video on how to go through a wake properly, water safety, and people falling out of boats. This has a name, but I forget it. A cat? Catch? I don't know. Rowing has weird terms. And I thought the word "gait" was weird?!
Then we went back to the ergs to work on our technique. First arms, then arms and back, then arms, back, and legs.
Arms back legs
Legs back arms
This I chanted to myself (in my head!) as I "rowed." I did so much better today! I don't know why. But I didn't get any kind of advice except to use my long arms, back, and legs. Hee!
Then we brought the boat down to the water. Yeah the boat bringing down is still a pain in the ass. More like pain in the shoulder. It's so odd, sometimes it seems super-light and others I feel like I'm carrying the whole thing by myself. Part of it is the angle--we have to bring the boat down and up a ramp to get to the river. Part of it is where you stand--this time, we arranged ourselves by height, which was supposed to help. I'm not so sure it did?
We didn't leave the dock this time either, but we did more in the boats than we did on Monday -- arms and back, and this time we added legs to it. You sort of row in a rectangle, a long thin rectangle. A good way to think of it, Peter said, is like using a rolling pin.
A really big, kind of unwieldy rolling pin with a big, uh, fin at the end.
But that kind of helped.
Kind of.
I happened to be at the front of the boat and people were following my motions. That's kind of what you do when you're rowing. Scary! It's like being the aerobics instructor, without the mirrors. And without proper training. Or coordination. Or those creepy mirrors. (You can tell I was never a big fan of group fitness classes.)
What I was having problems with was the point at which the the oar goes in the water. (Ha, she doesn't have both oars in the water--isn't that the "she's stupid" metaphor?) As I'm typing it, it goes back to the erg -- once you reach in and your body is forward and your legs come in, then the oar goes in and... you push BACK! And through! And it is fun!
And then we learned going backwards. To switch from front to back and back to front is a lot more difficult than it looks. I kind of fear what's going to happen when we get in the water. Did you know rowers don't use lifejackets? I never noticed that, but they don't. Peter or someone will be in a boat alongside us when we go out on the river for the first time.
The boat (named Tammy Faye, by the way) seats 8, but there are 11 of us in the class. I guess that's supposed to account for no-shows and dropouts, but I am thinking that I want to be in the boat as often as possible.
I am however glad that it's the last time this week I will have to get up THAT early. 6 a.m. is going to seem like, late to me.
Speaking of wakes: Maybe it was a beautiful morning, but it seemed a little easier to get up. I'm not saying waking up at 4:50 is something I'm excited about doing (at all) but it didn't seem as shitty as it did on Monday. I wonder why.
We spent some time watching a video on how to go through a wake properly, water safety, and people falling out of boats. This has a name, but I forget it. A cat? Catch? I don't know. Rowing has weird terms. And I thought the word "gait" was weird?!
Then we went back to the ergs to work on our technique. First arms, then arms and back, then arms, back, and legs.
Arms back legs
Legs back arms
This I chanted to myself (in my head!) as I "rowed." I did so much better today! I don't know why. But I didn't get any kind of advice except to use my long arms, back, and legs. Hee!
Then we brought the boat down to the water. Yeah the boat bringing down is still a pain in the ass. More like pain in the shoulder. It's so odd, sometimes it seems super-light and others I feel like I'm carrying the whole thing by myself. Part of it is the angle--we have to bring the boat down and up a ramp to get to the river. Part of it is where you stand--this time, we arranged ourselves by height, which was supposed to help. I'm not so sure it did?
We didn't leave the dock this time either, but we did more in the boats than we did on Monday -- arms and back, and this time we added legs to it. You sort of row in a rectangle, a long thin rectangle. A good way to think of it, Peter said, is like using a rolling pin.
A really big, kind of unwieldy rolling pin with a big, uh, fin at the end.
But that kind of helped.
Kind of.
I happened to be at the front of the boat and people were following my motions. That's kind of what you do when you're rowing. Scary! It's like being the aerobics instructor, without the mirrors. And without proper training. Or coordination. Or those creepy mirrors. (You can tell I was never a big fan of group fitness classes.)
What I was having problems with was the point at which the the oar goes in the water. (Ha, she doesn't have both oars in the water--isn't that the "she's stupid" metaphor?) As I'm typing it, it goes back to the erg -- once you reach in and your body is forward and your legs come in, then the oar goes in and... you push BACK! And through! And it is fun!
And then we learned going backwards. To switch from front to back and back to front is a lot more difficult than it looks. I kind of fear what's going to happen when we get in the water. Did you know rowers don't use lifejackets? I never noticed that, but they don't. Peter or someone will be in a boat alongside us when we go out on the river for the first time.
The boat (named Tammy Faye, by the way) seats 8, but there are 11 of us in the class. I guess that's supposed to account for no-shows and dropouts, but I am thinking that I want to be in the boat as often as possible.
I am however glad that it's the last time this week I will have to get up THAT early. 6 a.m. is going to seem like, late to me.
Speaking of wakes: Maybe it was a beautiful morning, but it seemed a little easier to get up. I'm not saying waking up at 4:50 is something I'm excited about doing (at all) but it didn't seem as shitty as it did on Monday. I wonder why.
Monday, June 22, 2009
She only got one oar in the water...
That's like how you say someone's stupid, right? Like one card short of a full deck.
Like how I say "not the brightest chicken on the chopping block" (yeah ok even I don't know why I do that). Well that's what I did this morning.
I was up before the alarm -- OMG I don't even want to know what time that was; l I set my alarm to go off at 5, but our bedroom clock is set a few minutes fast, and it was one of those things where I was up before the alarm but stayed in bed anyway. So up and out the door and down to the boathouse on Water St. at 5:30 and I was one of the last folks there.
The boathouse is bustling. I never realized where it was, that it was there, that is was so big. There are a lot of boats, all so narrow, strapped to the walls, how is there so much activity before 6 a.m.? I never see that many people while running at that hour. It had a level of activity if not like the waterfront at noon on a sunny Wednesday, then it had that feel. Not as many people, but just the amount of...bustle. Who bustles that early? Even I don't!
(Incidentally: Who have I become? It's not enough to get up at 5:15 to run at 6 a.m.? Now I have to get up at 4:50 to row at 5:30? Should I just become a breadbaker at this point?)
There are -- 11? 12? of us? All women and one man. The instructor is a guy named Peter and he had someone from the club named...uh, I forget her name. Forgive me, it was early. I'd say our ages ranged from ~28-55. We first sat on the floor and got a short talking to, then moved over to watch a video--that didn't work. So that will be Wednesday.
Then we went over to the rowing machines, or "erg" as one is called. I think it is short for ergometer, but I think it's the noise I made. Not that it is difficult (at least not when you are going that goddamn slow!), but you take apart everything about the stroke, and learn it one piece at a time. And then you put it together. Then you forget it again. It's like choreography--and I'm no good at dancing.
We started with the arms, just getting used to the pull back and forward motion. Your hands should basically be at the top of your ribs--under your breasts, before the bellybutton. Then back--you should sit up straight, with maybe a 10% lean back as you,...pull? (I can't remember, I just had to click away from screen and then I came back here and forgot.) Then the legs, which is where you want most of the weight/strength/power.
On the way in, it's legs, back, arms; on the way out, where you power, is arms, back, legs.
Wait.
I think.
See what I mean? It's like overanalyzing a book in English class--you delve so far in and get metaphors so far up your own ass that you're like, wait, what am I reading?
One way is arms, back, legs; the other is legs, back arms. I just can't remember which now. Am I stupid? One oar short of a full boat? Dumb as a box of rocks?
Okay, on the way in, it's arms, back, legs; then as you stroke out (again, forget the terms), it's legs, back, arms. At least the back stays the middle child no matter what.
Juanita! That was the woman's name--not the instructor, but the club member that came out to help. I remember this because I think she made me do something wrong when I was on the erg--I thought I was doing great, was a natural...and then she spent a lot of time with me because--surprise!--I am not a natural at something that requires remembering what parts to move and when. But when she was trying to get me to move my arms independently of my back, I think she pushed my back forward. I don't know. maybe it was me and not her, maybe I shouldn't blame, maybe I really do suck.
Legs, back, arms, arms, back, legs. Right?
It got better when we went into the water. But first, we had to get the boats into the water.
And that was hard. And kind of unwieldy.
When I'm running by the Hawthorne bridge, I watch for the folks bringing in the boats to or from the river. I gotta tell you, they look light. I mean, really; they are narrow and thin, right? And they float. So they should be like styrofoam, right?
No! The boat we took out--granted it was like an 8 or 10-person shell (shell? I think that's the right word) and it weighed like 250 lbs. Okay, maybe that's like the size of a large man and there were 11 of us , but still. That is heavy when you have ~25-30 lbs in your palms flipping this thing overhead and when you are holding it in a manner that is not consistent with any weightlifting you have ever done.
So we maneuver it out of the boathouse and down to the dock. And it was cold. I had a long sleeve shirt and shorts on, because I planned to go for a run after class. I won't do that again. The days I row are the days I don't run, or at least not that morning; the clothes I'd wear for running are not the ones I'll wear for rowing. Especially the shoes; my running shoes don't really fit in the boat, and I don't want to risk ruining them or my orthotics. So crappy stuff from now on.
Besides, the goose shit abounded.
I've got to wrap this up in a few mins because I'm going for a coffee with a colleague momentarily.
Anyway, we got in the boat and tried making some strokes with the oars, making, like, small rectangles with the strokes and the oars. We did arms and back but not legs. I'm happy to say that felt a lot better than the erg. It was actually fun. It gave me confidence that maybe I could do it. Feeling the oar in the water and the pull of smoothness...that was kinda nice.
Of course we didn't leave the dock.
Interested to see how Wed. will go.
Like how I say "not the brightest chicken on the chopping block" (yeah ok even I don't know why I do that). Well that's what I did this morning.
I was up before the alarm -- OMG I don't even want to know what time that was; l I set my alarm to go off at 5, but our bedroom clock is set a few minutes fast, and it was one of those things where I was up before the alarm but stayed in bed anyway. So up and out the door and down to the boathouse on Water St. at 5:30 and I was one of the last folks there.
The boathouse is bustling. I never realized where it was, that it was there, that is was so big. There are a lot of boats, all so narrow, strapped to the walls, how is there so much activity before 6 a.m.? I never see that many people while running at that hour. It had a level of activity if not like the waterfront at noon on a sunny Wednesday, then it had that feel. Not as many people, but just the amount of...bustle. Who bustles that early? Even I don't!
(Incidentally: Who have I become? It's not enough to get up at 5:15 to run at 6 a.m.? Now I have to get up at 4:50 to row at 5:30? Should I just become a breadbaker at this point?)
There are -- 11? 12? of us? All women and one man. The instructor is a guy named Peter and he had someone from the club named...uh, I forget her name. Forgive me, it was early. I'd say our ages ranged from ~28-55. We first sat on the floor and got a short talking to, then moved over to watch a video--that didn't work. So that will be Wednesday.
Then we went over to the rowing machines, or "erg" as one is called. I think it is short for ergometer, but I think it's the noise I made. Not that it is difficult (at least not when you are going that goddamn slow!), but you take apart everything about the stroke, and learn it one piece at a time. And then you put it together. Then you forget it again. It's like choreography--and I'm no good at dancing.
We started with the arms, just getting used to the pull back and forward motion. Your hands should basically be at the top of your ribs--under your breasts, before the bellybutton. Then back--you should sit up straight, with maybe a 10% lean back as you,...pull? (I can't remember, I just had to click away from screen and then I came back here and forgot.) Then the legs, which is where you want most of the weight/strength/power.
On the way in, it's legs, back, arms; on the way out, where you power, is arms, back, legs.
Wait.
I think.
See what I mean? It's like overanalyzing a book in English class--you delve so far in and get metaphors so far up your own ass that you're like, wait, what am I reading?
One way is arms, back, legs; the other is legs, back arms. I just can't remember which now. Am I stupid? One oar short of a full boat? Dumb as a box of rocks?
Okay, on the way in, it's arms, back, legs; then as you stroke out (again, forget the terms), it's legs, back, arms. At least the back stays the middle child no matter what.
Juanita! That was the woman's name--not the instructor, but the club member that came out to help. I remember this because I think she made me do something wrong when I was on the erg--I thought I was doing great, was a natural...and then she spent a lot of time with me because--surprise!--I am not a natural at something that requires remembering what parts to move and when. But when she was trying to get me to move my arms independently of my back, I think she pushed my back forward. I don't know. maybe it was me and not her, maybe I shouldn't blame, maybe I really do suck.
Legs, back, arms, arms, back, legs. Right?
It got better when we went into the water. But first, we had to get the boats into the water.
And that was hard. And kind of unwieldy.
When I'm running by the Hawthorne bridge, I watch for the folks bringing in the boats to or from the river. I gotta tell you, they look light. I mean, really; they are narrow and thin, right? And they float. So they should be like styrofoam, right?
No! The boat we took out--granted it was like an 8 or 10-person shell (shell? I think that's the right word) and it weighed like 250 lbs. Okay, maybe that's like the size of a large man and there were 11 of us , but still. That is heavy when you have ~25-30 lbs in your palms flipping this thing overhead and when you are holding it in a manner that is not consistent with any weightlifting you have ever done.
So we maneuver it out of the boathouse and down to the dock. And it was cold. I had a long sleeve shirt and shorts on, because I planned to go for a run after class. I won't do that again. The days I row are the days I don't run, or at least not that morning; the clothes I'd wear for running are not the ones I'll wear for rowing. Especially the shoes; my running shoes don't really fit in the boat, and I don't want to risk ruining them or my orthotics. So crappy stuff from now on.
Besides, the goose shit abounded.
I've got to wrap this up in a few mins because I'm going for a coffee with a colleague momentarily.
Anyway, we got in the boat and tried making some strokes with the oars, making, like, small rectangles with the strokes and the oars. We did arms and back but not legs. I'm happy to say that felt a lot better than the erg. It was actually fun. It gave me confidence that maybe I could do it. Feeling the oar in the water and the pull of smoothness...that was kinda nice.
Of course we didn't leave the dock.
Interested to see how Wed. will go.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Double Oar Nothing
I've been neglecting this poor little fledgling blog. It's all dried up with ivy ready to choke it (to show you how out of I am, I almost wrote "joke" instead of choke). I'm not sure why, I think part of that is the ennui at work, the fact that I fear I have done nothing interesting, and the fact that I was out of town, and the fact (wow lots of facts) that I just plumb did not feel like writing a damn thing.
But now I'm trying. I am on Twitter -- has little to do with what I'm sharing here. I am trying to keep that one all about running and trying to run a time that will qualify me to run the Boston Marathon (3:45). It would be a big deal to me. So that is primarily a place to put my running stuff so I don't bore everyone to death on facebook with it. I will probably have some other interjections here and there too, so it's worth a visit or a follow. Make me popular and shit.
So since I last posted, I have:
Gone to Japan.
Going to Asia -- something I've never done, but I'm not sure which month that falls in. May? June? Both. May I raced a half-marathon. And I also went to Japan. Which covered both May & June. This isn't quite working out to the one a month I'd thought, but what the hell, life gets in the way.
I guess I'm up to ... 3 things now?
Drums
Race
Japan
There might be something else coming down the pipeline too, but we'll see. Next up?
I'm going to join the crew team.
Well, kind of. I'm 35, and not in college. I am taking a novice rowing class with Station L Rowing Club.
(We did have a crew team back in college, but I never joined it. In college I picked my classes and activities based on when they started and nothing was before 10 a.m. I probably missed out on a lot, and now I get up at 5:30ish many days to run so what's the point, really. Then again I'm not preparing to go out at 11 p.m. anymore. I'm old. There needs to be a balance somehow. I'm not there yet. At least I'm not throwing myself at boys anymore. Oh, wait, nevermind.)
The last time I rowed anything was on the LifeFitness machine at the Bally's when I was 15 or so. It was like a videogame; there was this animated little dude on the screen, and you were under it, and as you pulled the...what's it called, lever?...back and forth as you "rowed" (in quotes because I am sure this is nothing like actual rowing) you heard a swishing, mechanical roboty noise and it showed you if you were ahead or behind the dude on the screen. It beat the shit out of the exercise bike.
(Yes, I cut gym class through 9th grade but had my dad sneak me into the health club on Sundays. I'm so insane.)
Anyway, I enjoyed the Lifecycle cartoon rowing machine. And although I did not partake of the crew team in college, as I got older and found that I naturally enjoyed using the rowing pull machine at the gym, and many mornings running down the Springwater corridor, noticed the rowers out there pulling through the Willamette, thought it looked, well, kind of fun.
I'm not running as much now, due to tweaking my hamstring and possibly aggravating a piriformis/sciatica/who-knows-what-the-hell-issue-this-is-other-than-it-sucks, and the marathon I want to run isn't till early December, so late June through late July will be a great time to try rowing, I think.
And from when I looked on the site to when the next class starts, I had very little time to think through it. I heard there was room in the class if I got my stuff in right away, and so I wrote out the check for $150 (hey, it's 10 weeks and only slightly more than a new pair of running shoes, which also last about 10-12 weeks for me), and made plans to take the swim test.
Ah yes. The swim test. I had to swim for 10 min straight (any stroke), and then tread water/float for 10 mins. It sounds easy, but when I was in the pool on Friday (the day before the test, just trying to work out) I realized it was harder than I thought.
I'm way out of swimming shape--granted, I never was in it, I'm not a strong swimmer though it is more in my genes than running is (my grandmother was an olympic-caliber swimmer and taught water fitness classes well into her 90s), and I flail around a lot. I wouldn't call it the dog paddle, but I am sure there are some retriever types who could swim a straighter line in the lap pool than yours truly.
So anyway, I took the swim test yesterday. All my worrying was for naught, as I swam like, if not a champ, than someone who can at least stay afloat and not scream "Fucking help my ass out of the drink!" Lifeguard even praised my smooth strokes. Upon getting in the car on the way home, I texted J who texted back that he liked my firm grip. Heh.
Oh I took it at Mt. Scott community center's pool, which I recommend--even though the *other* pool was filled with screaming children, the lap pool was very quiet--it did help that I got there right when they opened. I'd been there once before for a water aerobics class I took with a friend while we both had stress fractures and couldn't run.
(Because I am petty, I would like to point out that although this friend kicks my ass running on land and the only way I could beat her in a race is if she tried to run it on misaligned crutches, I kicked her ass running in the water. Hmm, maybe it is genetic...)
Anyway, where was I? Oh so the rowing.
First class (they are group classes, this isn't like, private rowing instruction or anything) starts tomorrow at 5:30 a.m. Classes are Mondays and Wednesdays from 5:30 - 7:15 a.m. Yeah, that's damn early, but I'm barely a 10-minute drive away so I will have plenty of time to get home and shower and get to work--okay, on the later side, but who gives a shit. It's good, it'll be good cross-training, and it will possibly preclude me from running too much at a point where I needn't be pushing myself too hard because of weird hammie thing that requires much babying, and yet I will hopefully not get fat.
And I have long, long monkey arms. And a long torso. And I like my back. All will, I think, be good for rowing.
I don't know the first thing about rowing. In overnight camp when I was around 10 or 11 they had rowboats. And canoes. I don't remember much about them or the difference between them, but I do remember that sort of wobbly feeling and the grossness of the browny green lake water which seeped in no matter what you did. And the slimy white dock.
I'm not really psyching myself up here, am I?
I went to Wiki on Crew just now, and maybe it's poorly written, but I don't really understand it still.
Running is so easy: You just go. Of course, it's not that easy if you make it. There are shoe questions and gear issues and no cotton and dri-fit and pace and stride and form and training and ramping mileage and tapering and it can be as complicated as you want it to be...but what it comes down to is moving yourself forward.
But then I read something like this, and my head tangles up over the words:
Uh, huh huh Beavis, what? I'm going to drop my oars and be up shit's creek without a paddle.
The shoe? The oar lock? Huh? I'm going to drown. Or at least look like an asshole.
I hope the people explain things in a way that lil ole dumb me can get. And that they are nice.
I never enjoyed sports (especially team sports) that much growing up. But I was also never really encouraged to do them. I think if I had demonstrated a want or an aptitude, maybe, but it is something that never came up much on the radar. I was more encouraged to do something like tennis (which I sucked at) because it would somehow help me more in later life. And ... uh no. I think the last time I picked up a racket, it was before I'd learned to use tampons.
Rowing seems like a team sport. You all must move together to make the boat move forward (uh, at least I assume). I am imagining several people in a donkey costume or something.
I'll try to post after my first class tomorrow.
But now I'm trying. I am on Twitter -- has little to do with what I'm sharing here. I am trying to keep that one all about running and trying to run a time that will qualify me to run the Boston Marathon (3:45). It would be a big deal to me. So that is primarily a place to put my running stuff so I don't bore everyone to death on facebook with it. I will probably have some other interjections here and there too, so it's worth a visit or a follow. Make me popular and shit.
So since I last posted, I have:
Gone to Japan.
Going to Asia -- something I've never done, but I'm not sure which month that falls in. May? June? Both. May I raced a half-marathon. And I also went to Japan. Which covered both May & June. This isn't quite working out to the one a month I'd thought, but what the hell, life gets in the way.
I guess I'm up to ... 3 things now?
Drums
Race
Japan
There might be something else coming down the pipeline too, but we'll see. Next up?
I'm going to join the crew team.
Well, kind of. I'm 35, and not in college. I am taking a novice rowing class with Station L Rowing Club.
(We did have a crew team back in college, but I never joined it. In college I picked my classes and activities based on when they started and nothing was before 10 a.m. I probably missed out on a lot, and now I get up at 5:30ish many days to run so what's the point, really. Then again I'm not preparing to go out at 11 p.m. anymore. I'm old. There needs to be a balance somehow. I'm not there yet. At least I'm not throwing myself at boys anymore. Oh, wait, nevermind.)
The last time I rowed anything was on the LifeFitness machine at the Bally's when I was 15 or so. It was like a videogame; there was this animated little dude on the screen, and you were under it, and as you pulled the...what's it called, lever?...back and forth as you "rowed" (in quotes because I am sure this is nothing like actual rowing) you heard a swishing, mechanical roboty noise and it showed you if you were ahead or behind the dude on the screen. It beat the shit out of the exercise bike.
(Yes, I cut gym class through 9th grade but had my dad sneak me into the health club on Sundays. I'm so insane.)
Anyway, I enjoyed the Lifecycle cartoon rowing machine. And although I did not partake of the crew team in college, as I got older and found that I naturally enjoyed using the rowing pull machine at the gym, and many mornings running down the Springwater corridor, noticed the rowers out there pulling through the Willamette, thought it looked, well, kind of fun.
I'm not running as much now, due to tweaking my hamstring and possibly aggravating a piriformis/sciatica/who-knows-what-the-hell-issue-this-is-other-than-it-sucks, and the marathon I want to run isn't till early December, so late June through late July will be a great time to try rowing, I think.
And from when I looked on the site to when the next class starts, I had very little time to think through it. I heard there was room in the class if I got my stuff in right away, and so I wrote out the check for $150 (hey, it's 10 weeks and only slightly more than a new pair of running shoes, which also last about 10-12 weeks for me), and made plans to take the swim test.
Ah yes. The swim test. I had to swim for 10 min straight (any stroke), and then tread water/float for 10 mins. It sounds easy, but when I was in the pool on Friday (the day before the test, just trying to work out) I realized it was harder than I thought.
I'm way out of swimming shape--granted, I never was in it, I'm not a strong swimmer though it is more in my genes than running is (my grandmother was an olympic-caliber swimmer and taught water fitness classes well into her 90s), and I flail around a lot. I wouldn't call it the dog paddle, but I am sure there are some retriever types who could swim a straighter line in the lap pool than yours truly.
So anyway, I took the swim test yesterday. All my worrying was for naught, as I swam like, if not a champ, than someone who can at least stay afloat and not scream "Fucking help my ass out of the drink!" Lifeguard even praised my smooth strokes. Upon getting in the car on the way home, I texted J who texted back that he liked my firm grip. Heh.
Oh I took it at Mt. Scott community center's pool, which I recommend--even though the *other* pool was filled with screaming children, the lap pool was very quiet--it did help that I got there right when they opened. I'd been there once before for a water aerobics class I took with a friend while we both had stress fractures and couldn't run.
(Because I am petty, I would like to point out that although this friend kicks my ass running on land and the only way I could beat her in a race is if she tried to run it on misaligned crutches, I kicked her ass running in the water. Hmm, maybe it is genetic...)
Anyway, where was I? Oh so the rowing.
First class (they are group classes, this isn't like, private rowing instruction or anything) starts tomorrow at 5:30 a.m. Classes are Mondays and Wednesdays from 5:30 - 7:15 a.m. Yeah, that's damn early, but I'm barely a 10-minute drive away so I will have plenty of time to get home and shower and get to work--okay, on the later side, but who gives a shit. It's good, it'll be good cross-training, and it will possibly preclude me from running too much at a point where I needn't be pushing myself too hard because of weird hammie thing that requires much babying, and yet I will hopefully not get fat.
And I have long, long monkey arms. And a long torso. And I like my back. All will, I think, be good for rowing.
I don't know the first thing about rowing. In overnight camp when I was around 10 or 11 they had rowboats. And canoes. I don't remember much about them or the difference between them, but I do remember that sort of wobbly feeling and the grossness of the browny green lake water which seeped in no matter what you did. And the slimy white dock.
I'm not really psyching myself up here, am I?
I went to Wiki on Crew just now, and maybe it's poorly written, but I don't really understand it still.
Running is so easy: You just go. Of course, it's not that easy if you make it. There are shoe questions and gear issues and no cotton and dri-fit and pace and stride and form and training and ramping mileage and tapering and it can be as complicated as you want it to be...but what it comes down to is moving yourself forward.
But then I read something like this, and my head tangles up over the words:
Have the boat parallel to the dock, unattached. Make sure the oars are in and
are pushed as far as they can go until the catch. Move the oars forward and hold
them with one hand. Slide the seat back, and put one foot in. Make sure to stand
on the deck of the boat and do not step in the bottom, or rounded, part of the
boat. Then squat down and sit down on the sliding chair. You should then be able
to put the foot in the shoe, and then move the other foot in. Hold the oars in
one hand and push off of the dock. Remember to close the 'oar lock' on the
rigger to stop the oar from popping out.
Uh, huh huh Beavis, what? I'm going to drop my oars and be up shit's creek without a paddle.
The shoe? The oar lock? Huh? I'm going to drown. Or at least look like an asshole.
I hope the people explain things in a way that lil ole dumb me can get. And that they are nice.
I never enjoyed sports (especially team sports) that much growing up. But I was also never really encouraged to do them. I think if I had demonstrated a want or an aptitude, maybe, but it is something that never came up much on the radar. I was more encouraged to do something like tennis (which I sucked at) because it would somehow help me more in later life. And ... uh no. I think the last time I picked up a racket, it was before I'd learned to use tampons.
Rowing seems like a team sport. You all must move together to make the boat move forward (uh, at least I assume). I am imagining several people in a donkey costume or something.
I'll try to post after my first class tomorrow.
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