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.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
May Try: Racing a Half-Marathon
This is based on what I posted on my running club's message board last week:
Last month was drum lessons. The try for this month (there might be others, but at least I got this out of the way first), was Race a Race. So that's how I approached the Eugene half-marathon on May 3.
Racing is tough for me.
(I think it's because I did so many as training runs when I was doing my first marathon--when I was living in Hoboken, I did a lot of New York Road Runners races because if you ran a certain #, you were guaranteed entry for the NY marathon. Only thing is: You have to be a member since January of that year. I joined in April. Thus: I am an idiot. But my point is not so much that but the fact that these "races" weren't races, they were ways for me to get a run in.)
I am tired of telling myself I don't get "race face." I tend to stop at races if I'm feeling poorly; I rarely break on through (to the other side), though on the once-in-a-blue-uninjured-moon I will, and am rewarded for my efforts.
This time I decided: I would put on my race face. At the same time, I would run this course smartly. I would go in...not conservative--but judicious. And so I'm happy with my race, partly because of the physical and the time (i.e., I took more than 3 minutes off my PR, though I missed going sub 1:50 by 10 lousy seconds), but also the mental (i.e., putting brain & body on a continuous loop reiterating that this was tough and I had to push through it and I was capable of it). It was a mental PR, and I'm more happy about that than anything else.
Last time I did a half was almost two years ago, and it's been a tough two years in a lot of ways. Conditions wrt weather were fabulous, though I will admit when I woke up at 5:30 and was surprised to learn that the noise I thought was water gushing down a gutter was actually water gushing from the skies. But things cleared up before the start and it was great weather; overcast but sprinkles at times. It cleared a bit for the marathoners, I think; it might have even been warm for the 3:30-plus group or so. I was also surprised that there was no wind.
I have to say, I was surprised that there was no 3:45 pacer. I'm going to email them and suggest that. I was around a lot of women around my age who wanted to qualify for Boston. Maybe I should have seeded myself further up in the crowd to find a group who was going to go out around 8:20 (the pace I wanted to average) but I wanted to go out about 8:30 and increase the pace later. I was pleasantly surprised to do minimal weaving in the first mile, and I didn't encounter any walkers, which I was really happy about. Was pleased how that went. Ran with a friend from my running cub for the first 2 miles (he later dropped out because he was fighting a cold) then got into a nice rhythm.
Was running for about 10 miles with this one 38-year old woman who was trying to qualify for Boston -- she was super-nice; occasionally I'd draft off her, and then she'd draft off me, and we talked about signs and running backpacks, etc. Around mile 5, she was like, "I wish you were running the full," and I said "there's still time to change your mind," and she said, well, I've been training for this 2 and a half years. I had to laugh. I know how that goes. (Side note: I watched the marathoners come in, and I was real sad to see her come in at ~3:50ish pace. But then I wondered when her birthday was and if she had a shot after all; but I guess that's more likely if you run a fall marathon, right?)
I loved the course. It's pretty, interesting, there's enough going on, varied. Thumbs up! Just downloaded my Garmin data and I'd had no idea the hill from 4-5 was as tall as it's saying it is. It was such a gradual climb that by the time you were like, hmm, am I working harder than usual?, you were going downhill. I like hills. I think I run them well and it's such a great feeling passing folks on the downhills who are recovering! The hill at mile 8 seemed steeper, but it was shorter and it's not unlike a hill by my house that I often finish training runs with, so I kept telling myself "it's just the Clinton Street climb..." and it totally worked.
That said? I think my favorite distance is about 15k - 10 miles or so. I wish there were more races out there like that. My best miles feel like they are usually run around miles 6-9, so by the time I hit mile 11 or so in a half-marathon, that's kind of the dead zone for me. And especially when my new friend and I split up at the half/full splitting up point, I had fewer people to draft off of.
But I made roadkill! There was this one woman I was running with for a bit -- she was in front of me, then I drafted by her shoulder...and then I passed her. You don't understand. I'm usually the kill in roadkill. But now, well, now I was the road. That last mile felt endless. My time was 1:50:09. I had really, really wanted to round that bend and see a "4" in the minutes area. But hey, it's a PR by over 3 minutes from the Flat Half 2007, so I'm happy with that.
I also didn't feel pain during the race; I got some glimmers of a side stitch that might have become more of an issue if I'd been running the marathon, but everything stayed in check. Breathing was good. It was a PR, and it also was a PR in that I felt totally dialed-in and totally consistent, very present, and, for lack of a better term "with it" during the race. I didn't stop once, didn't walk once during the race--though I ran through all the aid stations but one, and in that case I had to walk for like 10 steps because I can't Gu and run at the same time. That's probably what cost me that damn 10 seconds, but whatever. Maybe I'll try a fuel belt, but I'd always thought those would be tough on my back. Maybe I'll just increase my pace.
I was very finished at the finish. I'm happy with how things went. The day was great. I did things right and it showed. That was good. And now, I want to get faster. I know I have a mid-1:40 half in me. At least. Also, I had kind of wanted to train for a race based primarily on building mileage. I think I topped out at 47 miles a week. I haven't been doing much speed training; I've done maybe 5 tempo runs all year. But now that my mileage is gettign higher, I feel better about adding more speedwork to it. I'd like to do more long tempo runs, I think. Make training a little tougher.
Oh yeah, splits, because I thought this was interesting:Avg pace, 8:24, 8:40, 8:15, 8:33, 8:30, 8:28, 8:00, 8:22, 8:29, 8:37, 8:10, 8:33, 8:17, 8:23, 7:08.
So that was my race for May. May also will be the third try: Go to Asia.
We are going to Japan this month.
Last month was drum lessons. The try for this month (there might be others, but at least I got this out of the way first), was Race a Race. So that's how I approached the Eugene half-marathon on May 3.
Racing is tough for me.
(I think it's because I did so many as training runs when I was doing my first marathon--when I was living in Hoboken, I did a lot of New York Road Runners races because if you ran a certain #, you were guaranteed entry for the NY marathon. Only thing is: You have to be a member since January of that year. I joined in April. Thus: I am an idiot. But my point is not so much that but the fact that these "races" weren't races, they were ways for me to get a run in.)
I am tired of telling myself I don't get "race face." I tend to stop at races if I'm feeling poorly; I rarely break on through (to the other side), though on the once-in-a-blue-uninjured-moon I will, and am rewarded for my efforts.
This time I decided: I would put on my race face. At the same time, I would run this course smartly. I would go in...not conservative--but judicious. And so I'm happy with my race, partly because of the physical and the time (i.e., I took more than 3 minutes off my PR, though I missed going sub 1:50 by 10 lousy seconds), but also the mental (i.e., putting brain & body on a continuous loop reiterating that this was tough and I had to push through it and I was capable of it). It was a mental PR, and I'm more happy about that than anything else.
Last time I did a half was almost two years ago, and it's been a tough two years in a lot of ways. Conditions wrt weather were fabulous, though I will admit when I woke up at 5:30 and was surprised to learn that the noise I thought was water gushing down a gutter was actually water gushing from the skies. But things cleared up before the start and it was great weather; overcast but sprinkles at times. It cleared a bit for the marathoners, I think; it might have even been warm for the 3:30-plus group or so. I was also surprised that there was no wind.
I have to say, I was surprised that there was no 3:45 pacer. I'm going to email them and suggest that. I was around a lot of women around my age who wanted to qualify for Boston. Maybe I should have seeded myself further up in the crowd to find a group who was going to go out around 8:20 (the pace I wanted to average) but I wanted to go out about 8:30 and increase the pace later. I was pleasantly surprised to do minimal weaving in the first mile, and I didn't encounter any walkers, which I was really happy about. Was pleased how that went. Ran with a friend from my running cub for the first 2 miles (he later dropped out because he was fighting a cold) then got into a nice rhythm.
Was running for about 10 miles with this one 38-year old woman who was trying to qualify for Boston -- she was super-nice; occasionally I'd draft off her, and then she'd draft off me, and we talked about signs and running backpacks, etc. Around mile 5, she was like, "I wish you were running the full," and I said "there's still time to change your mind," and she said, well, I've been training for this 2 and a half years. I had to laugh. I know how that goes. (Side note: I watched the marathoners come in, and I was real sad to see her come in at ~3:50ish pace. But then I wondered when her birthday was and if she had a shot after all; but I guess that's more likely if you run a fall marathon, right?)
I loved the course. It's pretty, interesting, there's enough going on, varied. Thumbs up! Just downloaded my Garmin data and I'd had no idea the hill from 4-5 was as tall as it's saying it is. It was such a gradual climb that by the time you were like, hmm, am I working harder than usual?, you were going downhill. I like hills. I think I run them well and it's such a great feeling passing folks on the downhills who are recovering! The hill at mile 8 seemed steeper, but it was shorter and it's not unlike a hill by my house that I often finish training runs with, so I kept telling myself "it's just the Clinton Street climb..." and it totally worked.
That said? I think my favorite distance is about 15k - 10 miles or so. I wish there were more races out there like that. My best miles feel like they are usually run around miles 6-9, so by the time I hit mile 11 or so in a half-marathon, that's kind of the dead zone for me. And especially when my new friend and I split up at the half/full splitting up point, I had fewer people to draft off of.
But I made roadkill! There was this one woman I was running with for a bit -- she was in front of me, then I drafted by her shoulder...and then I passed her. You don't understand. I'm usually the kill in roadkill. But now, well, now I was the road. That last mile felt endless. My time was 1:50:09. I had really, really wanted to round that bend and see a "4" in the minutes area. But hey, it's a PR by over 3 minutes from the Flat Half 2007, so I'm happy with that.
I also didn't feel pain during the race; I got some glimmers of a side stitch that might have become more of an issue if I'd been running the marathon, but everything stayed in check. Breathing was good. It was a PR, and it also was a PR in that I felt totally dialed-in and totally consistent, very present, and, for lack of a better term "with it" during the race. I didn't stop once, didn't walk once during the race--though I ran through all the aid stations but one, and in that case I had to walk for like 10 steps because I can't Gu and run at the same time. That's probably what cost me that damn 10 seconds, but whatever. Maybe I'll try a fuel belt, but I'd always thought those would be tough on my back. Maybe I'll just increase my pace.
I was very finished at the finish. I'm happy with how things went. The day was great. I did things right and it showed. That was good. And now, I want to get faster. I know I have a mid-1:40 half in me. At least. Also, I had kind of wanted to train for a race based primarily on building mileage. I think I topped out at 47 miles a week. I haven't been doing much speed training; I've done maybe 5 tempo runs all year. But now that my mileage is gettign higher, I feel better about adding more speedwork to it. I'd like to do more long tempo runs, I think. Make training a little tougher.
Oh yeah, splits, because I thought this was interesting:Avg pace, 8:24, 8:40, 8:15, 8:33, 8:30, 8:28, 8:00, 8:22, 8:29, 8:37, 8:10, 8:33, 8:17, 8:23, 7:08.
So that was my race for May. May also will be the third try: Go to Asia.
We are going to Japan this month.
Updating
So I thought I would be able to pick back up and talk about the drum lesson(s). But so far life has not afforded me that luxury.
HOWEVER, I am now back to post hopefully more than once every 2+ weeks about what has been going on.
So, here is a (brief?) recap:
Drum lesson #1. We do rudiments. I stand in front of a drum and first read some music. It all comes back to me -- the forced piano playing when i was a kid. Say 6-8 or 9 or so, I played piano. I really don't remember ever wanting to play piano, I'm really not quite sure how it came about. Anyway, it brought me back to those times sitting in front of the teacher's piano, while I wanted to play the song the way I wanted to play it, not the way it was written.
Apparently I'm not much different on the drums.
Don't get me wrong. It was fun as hell (because hell has got to be fun, in a sick perverted twisted way, right?). In a way. I got to be loud. I got to smack drumsticks on this drum and then was told I wasn't loud enough. Kids must love this! No wonder! You have this ... this... forum, where you are taught that it's ok to whale away at something, as long as it's a controlled whaling away.
And I really liked the teacher. This is someone who used to work with my husband, but no longer does, and has been teaching drums for ages, and who has been playing them since about when I started piano.
So I'm tip-tapping increasingly louder on the one drum feeling good, feeling like, hey, maybe I have this beat or something?! Here I am in this great basement in this great Sellwood house, and I'm thinking hey, maybe I'm onto something? Maybe this vision I had of myself when I was 21 or 22 of me about 23 moving to LA and learning to play the drums...maybe that's a vision I could really be, maybe it's not too late (okay I don't want to move to LA but is any of this making sense?). I even have drummer hair! It's getting super-long and the curl is never going away...I'm...I'm totally Slash! (circa 1988)
And then we went on the drumset.
And that's when it all went to shit.
I would tell you the names of the drums in the drumset except that I don't remember. I've kind of...blocked it out. There was the snare drum. And the bass drum. I remember those, because they were the only two I could play at the same time. It wasn't a matter so much of getting the beat, it was keeping it and trying to ... well, it was sort of like the musical version of trying to rub your head and pat your stomach at the same time. Who can do that? I guess drummers.
Teacher was great. Really patient.
A few days after the first lesson: We went to a drum recital that she was leading. All kids, ages from oh I'd say 7-17. Some of those kids were really good! I kind of wished that I had been put in front of a drumset as a kid. But I dount that would have jived with my parents, who I think, did not want the kind of daughter who drummed. I don't know. I just never got that feeling. It's like how I run now--as a kid, I was never encouraged to do it. Not like I was discouraged from it, but like...it wasn't even an issue. It wasn't something that I was to do. We weren't an athletic family, we weren't a musical family.
Because we weren't, I wasn't.
Dunno, though. It's too easy to blame your family for everything. It just is.
But I went back for a second lesson. Just because...I wanted to see again.
And I felt like...why am I here? It wasn't the teaching--again, she was awesome and I would totally recommend her to anyone who would do it. It was just me really realizing that this is not someone I needed or wanted to be. I was never going to buy a drum set, I was never going to make the time to practice--heck, I can hardly keep up this blog, and writing is who I am!
And I was never going to be the kind of person who could do something totally different with the left foot and/or hand than the right foot and/or hand. I love drummers. I have a huuuuuuuuuuge respect for them now; and for that matter, any musician.
It really is a whole language, it's a whole communication, it's a whole expansion of the brain and different kind of smarts than I could have imagined, and certainly not something that I ever considered when I was a kid and music lessons were a chore. It's beautiful. I will listen for the drums in songs, now, not just the melody. I won't take it for granted.
So I could have--and had intended to--describe the actual details and semantics of the drums and how the low-ceiling basement felt and sounded and the beauty of the day. But I realize, now, that's it's ok to have a "me" lesson about the drums instead.
I'm going to post another update about the thing I tried last week, for May. I think there will be something else for May, but I haven't settled on it yet.
HOWEVER, I am now back to post hopefully more than once every 2+ weeks about what has been going on.
So, here is a (brief?) recap:
Drum lesson #1. We do rudiments. I stand in front of a drum and first read some music. It all comes back to me -- the forced piano playing when i was a kid. Say 6-8 or 9 or so, I played piano. I really don't remember ever wanting to play piano, I'm really not quite sure how it came about. Anyway, it brought me back to those times sitting in front of the teacher's piano, while I wanted to play the song the way I wanted to play it, not the way it was written.
Apparently I'm not much different on the drums.
Don't get me wrong. It was fun as hell (because hell has got to be fun, in a sick perverted twisted way, right?). In a way. I got to be loud. I got to smack drumsticks on this drum and then was told I wasn't loud enough. Kids must love this! No wonder! You have this ... this... forum, where you are taught that it's ok to whale away at something, as long as it's a controlled whaling away.
And I really liked the teacher. This is someone who used to work with my husband, but no longer does, and has been teaching drums for ages, and who has been playing them since about when I started piano.
So I'm tip-tapping increasingly louder on the one drum feeling good, feeling like, hey, maybe I have this beat or something?! Here I am in this great basement in this great Sellwood house, and I'm thinking hey, maybe I'm onto something? Maybe this vision I had of myself when I was 21 or 22 of me about 23 moving to LA and learning to play the drums...maybe that's a vision I could really be, maybe it's not too late (okay I don't want to move to LA but is any of this making sense?). I even have drummer hair! It's getting super-long and the curl is never going away...I'm...I'm totally Slash! (circa 1988)
And then we went on the drumset.
And that's when it all went to shit.
I would tell you the names of the drums in the drumset except that I don't remember. I've kind of...blocked it out. There was the snare drum. And the bass drum. I remember those, because they were the only two I could play at the same time. It wasn't a matter so much of getting the beat, it was keeping it and trying to ... well, it was sort of like the musical version of trying to rub your head and pat your stomach at the same time. Who can do that? I guess drummers.
Teacher was great. Really patient.
A few days after the first lesson: We went to a drum recital that she was leading. All kids, ages from oh I'd say 7-17. Some of those kids were really good! I kind of wished that I had been put in front of a drumset as a kid. But I dount that would have jived with my parents, who I think, did not want the kind of daughter who drummed. I don't know. I just never got that feeling. It's like how I run now--as a kid, I was never encouraged to do it. Not like I was discouraged from it, but like...it wasn't even an issue. It wasn't something that I was to do. We weren't an athletic family, we weren't a musical family.
Because we weren't, I wasn't.
Dunno, though. It's too easy to blame your family for everything. It just is.
But I went back for a second lesson. Just because...I wanted to see again.
And I felt like...why am I here? It wasn't the teaching--again, she was awesome and I would totally recommend her to anyone who would do it. It was just me really realizing that this is not someone I needed or wanted to be. I was never going to buy a drum set, I was never going to make the time to practice--heck, I can hardly keep up this blog, and writing is who I am!
And I was never going to be the kind of person who could do something totally different with the left foot and/or hand than the right foot and/or hand. I love drummers. I have a huuuuuuuuuuge respect for them now; and for that matter, any musician.
It really is a whole language, it's a whole communication, it's a whole expansion of the brain and different kind of smarts than I could have imagined, and certainly not something that I ever considered when I was a kid and music lessons were a chore. It's beautiful. I will listen for the drums in songs, now, not just the melody. I won't take it for granted.
So I could have--and had intended to--describe the actual details and semantics of the drums and how the low-ceiling basement felt and sounded and the beauty of the day. But I realize, now, that's it's ok to have a "me" lesson about the drums instead.
I'm going to post another update about the thing I tried last week, for May. I think there will be something else for May, but I haven't settled on it yet.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Drumsticks: not just for chickens anymore
My lesson is tonight. Got drumsticks from a friend, got a notebook from work, got the address of the drum teacher. I have no idea what to expect.
Drumsticks.org has some tips [bolding and brackets = mine]:
Drumstick Tips and Facts
1. Many drummers wear out their drum sticks in the middle of the shaft by playing rimshots all night long. They splinter and eventually wear completely through.
2. Some drummers adopt the name "Sticks" or "Stix" and insist everyone call them that instead of their real name. Hey, I guess we all want to be somebody. [This will not be me. Swear.]
3. Drumstick spinning has really gained popularity through the past several years. There are drumstick spinning books, dvd's, and even many more drumstick spinning.
4. Have you heard about pitch-matching your drum sticks? Many drummers swear by making sure their sticks audibly match each other in pitch.
5. Using metal drumsticks to practice with is still a controversial subject. Many educators believe in this practice while some are convinced that it is harmful to your wrists. [Heh. It's all in the wrist.]
6. Some drummers sand their drum sticks to remove the varnish. They like the feel of so-called naked drumsticks a lot better. Usually it's those drummers that sweat a lot. [That would be me.]
7. Most drummers in this day and time agree that you should roll drumsticks on a flat surface to check for straightness before buying them. [Does this influence the sound? I guess I would assume so, in the way that you want to make sure things are straight when making a guitar or whatever, but...these are the things I don't think about. I have enough time trying to figure out of a taped-up poster is straight. I am a flail.]
8. Some of the more common reasons drummers break drumsticks are; playing too hard, hitting at the wrong angles, and using the wrong drumsticks for their particular style. [This is interesting and something worth pursuing. So bongo drums - no sticks, but what other styles are there?]
9. If your drum sticks are slippery or you're getting blisters from playing hard, consider using drumstick grip tape or other applications such as drumstick wax or Stick Stuff.
10. Remember that buying cheap drumsticks will save you money, but they usually aren't weighted properly nor do they last very long. Stick with the name brands to be safe.
11. Some drummers need more instruction on how to hold drumsticks. You can't be too far back on the sticks, nor should you be too far forward. Find the balancing point. [This reminds me of something and I can't figure out what. Skis?]
12. Light up your drum performance with illuminating or glow drumsticks. Choose between painted glow drumsticks or lighted sticks like the brand new Vic Firth lite stix drumsticks. [Rave-tacular!]
More from drumsticks.com:
"The drumstick is made up of 4 basic parts. The bottom is called the BUTT of the drumstick, the long middle part is called the SHAFT, the taper is called the SHOULDER, and the bead is called the TIP...
Although different types of objects to beat drums have been around for centuries, drumsticks as we know them today have only been around for five or six decades. Most drumsticks are made out of wood. Maple, hickory, and oak are the most popular wood types."
[Heh heh. Wood.]
But until the last day or so, when I was instructed via email to bring a set of drumsticks 5a or 5b with me, I didn't know what that meant. I didn't think drumsticks would be sized. I guess it never occurred to me. Is it the same with guitar picks? I guess anything, really, would have its good products and less-great products.
http://www.rockband.com has forums in which this question is answered:
"Number:The numerical portion signifies the circumference of the stick. In general, the lower the number the larger circumference, and the greater the number the smaller the circumference. For example, the 7A is smaller in circumference than a 5A which in turn is narrower than the 2B. The exception is the 3S, which is larger in circumference than a 2B despite its number.
"Letter:The letter suffix: "S," "B," and "A" originally indicated the recommended application.
"S" model sticks were designed for Street applications such as drum corps and marching band, and are typically the largest diameter sticks.
"B" model sticks were intended for Band applications such as brass bands and symphonic concert bands. Smaller in circumference than the "S" models, they were easier to control and thus especially popular with beginning drummers. To this day the 2B is recommended by teachers practically everywhere as ideal starter sticks. [Um...I was told 5a or 5b to bring, so what's that mean, yo?]"
"A" stands for Orchestra. "A" model sticks were designed for big band or dance type orchestras. They're smaller in circumference than "B" series sticks and lend themselves well for softer type playing. "
[I feel like I am going to be the kind of person who plays drums like "Animal" from the muppets.]
This kind of reminds me of bra sizes. But not really.
Then, for our 3rd randomly-found-URL-of-the-day to get me thinking, I went to drumtips.com, which says in its tip sheet:
"Drum Teachers: Use flash cards as part of your drum lessons to help your students learn note values, dynamic markings, etc. You can make them yourself on 3 X 5 index cards."
And I got scared! Note values? Dynamic markings? This is a complete different language, like Hebrew, I and I am scared of it.
I kinda really thought that playing drums meant that you just kind of hauled away at them. I hadn't realized there was nuance to it. There will have to be a beat. You will have to have rhythm (that, by the way, is a word I can never seem to spell right, never have). I don't have rhythm, I'm a white girl! I took dance sessions at overnight camp when I was 9. I loved it. I thought I was fabulous.
The report back said "tried hard."
And: I'm having visions of piano lessons from about 5-8. I sucked. I really did. While piano playing certainly helped me learn my right from my left, that's about all I could do. My ivories were not tickled. They were more like stressed.
When I was like 21 or 22, and still in college contemplating what was next (I was always contemplating what was next), an alternate reality had involved me moving to LA and learning to play the drums. I wonder how I would have turned out if that had happened.
Sometimes I feel like I made the safe choices too often.
I will not psych myself out. Trying something is good. It is what this is all about. The blog is not called 12 learns. It's called 12 tries. I am merely trying to play the drums. I highly doubt I can afford drum lessons, a kit, or anything else beyond introductory stuff. So it's a try. Being positive, being open.
Bye for now.
Drumsticks.org has some tips [bolding and brackets = mine]:
Drumstick Tips and Facts
1. Many drummers wear out their drum sticks in the middle of the shaft by playing rimshots all night long. They splinter and eventually wear completely through.
2. Some drummers adopt the name "Sticks" or "Stix" and insist everyone call them that instead of their real name. Hey, I guess we all want to be somebody. [This will not be me. Swear.]
3. Drumstick spinning has really gained popularity through the past several years. There are drumstick spinning books, dvd's, and even many more drumstick spinning.
4. Have you heard about pitch-matching your drum sticks? Many drummers swear by making sure their sticks audibly match each other in pitch.
5. Using metal drumsticks to practice with is still a controversial subject. Many educators believe in this practice while some are convinced that it is harmful to your wrists. [Heh. It's all in the wrist.]
6. Some drummers sand their drum sticks to remove the varnish. They like the feel of so-called naked drumsticks a lot better. Usually it's those drummers that sweat a lot. [That would be me.]
7. Most drummers in this day and time agree that you should roll drumsticks on a flat surface to check for straightness before buying them. [Does this influence the sound? I guess I would assume so, in the way that you want to make sure things are straight when making a guitar or whatever, but...these are the things I don't think about. I have enough time trying to figure out of a taped-up poster is straight. I am a flail.]
8. Some of the more common reasons drummers break drumsticks are; playing too hard, hitting at the wrong angles, and using the wrong drumsticks for their particular style. [This is interesting and something worth pursuing. So bongo drums - no sticks, but what other styles are there?]
9. If your drum sticks are slippery or you're getting blisters from playing hard, consider using drumstick grip tape or other applications such as drumstick wax or Stick Stuff.
10. Remember that buying cheap drumsticks will save you money, but they usually aren't weighted properly nor do they last very long. Stick with the name brands to be safe.
11. Some drummers need more instruction on how to hold drumsticks. You can't be too far back on the sticks, nor should you be too far forward. Find the balancing point. [This reminds me of something and I can't figure out what. Skis?]
12. Light up your drum performance with illuminating or glow drumsticks. Choose between painted glow drumsticks or lighted sticks like the brand new Vic Firth lite stix drumsticks. [Rave-tacular!]
More from drumsticks.com:
"The drumstick is made up of 4 basic parts. The bottom is called the BUTT of the drumstick, the long middle part is called the SHAFT, the taper is called the SHOULDER, and the bead is called the TIP...
Although different types of objects to beat drums have been around for centuries, drumsticks as we know them today have only been around for five or six decades. Most drumsticks are made out of wood. Maple, hickory, and oak are the most popular wood types."
[Heh heh. Wood.]
But until the last day or so, when I was instructed via email to bring a set of drumsticks 5a or 5b with me, I didn't know what that meant. I didn't think drumsticks would be sized. I guess it never occurred to me. Is it the same with guitar picks? I guess anything, really, would have its good products and less-great products.
http://www.rockband.com has forums in which this question is answered:
"Number:The numerical portion signifies the circumference of the stick. In general, the lower the number the larger circumference, and the greater the number the smaller the circumference. For example, the 7A is smaller in circumference than a 5A which in turn is narrower than the 2B. The exception is the 3S, which is larger in circumference than a 2B despite its number.
"Letter:The letter suffix: "S," "B," and "A" originally indicated the recommended application.
"S" model sticks were designed for Street applications such as drum corps and marching band, and are typically the largest diameter sticks.
"B" model sticks were intended for Band applications such as brass bands and symphonic concert bands. Smaller in circumference than the "S" models, they were easier to control and thus especially popular with beginning drummers. To this day the 2B is recommended by teachers practically everywhere as ideal starter sticks. [Um...I was told 5a or 5b to bring, so what's that mean, yo?]"
"A" stands for Orchestra. "A" model sticks were designed for big band or dance type orchestras. They're smaller in circumference than "B" series sticks and lend themselves well for softer type playing. "
[I feel like I am going to be the kind of person who plays drums like "Animal" from the muppets.]
This kind of reminds me of bra sizes. But not really.
Then, for our 3rd randomly-found-URL-of-the-day to get me thinking, I went to drumtips.com, which says in its tip sheet:
"Drum Teachers: Use flash cards as part of your drum lessons to help your students learn note values, dynamic markings, etc. You can make them yourself on 3 X 5 index cards."
And I got scared! Note values? Dynamic markings? This is a complete different language, like Hebrew, I and I am scared of it.
I kinda really thought that playing drums meant that you just kind of hauled away at them. I hadn't realized there was nuance to it. There will have to be a beat. You will have to have rhythm (that, by the way, is a word I can never seem to spell right, never have). I don't have rhythm, I'm a white girl! I took dance sessions at overnight camp when I was 9. I loved it. I thought I was fabulous.
The report back said "tried hard."
And: I'm having visions of piano lessons from about 5-8. I sucked. I really did. While piano playing certainly helped me learn my right from my left, that's about all I could do. My ivories were not tickled. They were more like stressed.
When I was like 21 or 22, and still in college contemplating what was next (I was always contemplating what was next), an alternate reality had involved me moving to LA and learning to play the drums. I wonder how I would have turned out if that had happened.
Sometimes I feel like I made the safe choices too often.
I will not psych myself out. Trying something is good. It is what this is all about. The blog is not called 12 learns. It's called 12 tries. I am merely trying to play the drums. I highly doubt I can afford drum lessons, a kit, or anything else beyond introductory stuff. So it's a try. Being positive, being open.
Bye for now.
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