This morning I rowed 9800 meters, almost exactly, in my single -- I meant to do
10K, but I underestimated and turned a little early. (There's a little computer
that hooks to a tiny propeller under the boat and a magnet under the seat to tell
stroke rate, distance, and time it would take to row 500m at the current
pressure.) Perhaps I should follow
href="http://badsnake.diaryland.com">Badsnake's, lead and begin providing a
casualty report: a sore butt, four blisters, one on the middle and ring fingers of
each hand, and some blackened skin, from the rubber grips on the
oars.
Coach DI was in Jekyll mode today: even though I didn't row
with his group, because I haven't and won't sign up for the new session, he helped
me get my boat down from the rack (I can't quite reach it). Even more astounding,
he handed around a workout schedule for the rest of this month. She-Hulk had
complained about the lack of planning and apparently her voice actually had some
impact, or maybe it's a cumulative thing. He was spookily nice,
anyway.
I did have a nice row -- got waked several times by the
coaching launch, but otherwise I quite enjoyed myself. Though that seat is
extremely uncomfortable; I limited my distance not due to time or fatigue, but due
to pain in fingers and butt. The finger pain is just blisters; they'll go away
once I scull enough to build the proper calluses. My boat, a
href="http://www.hudsonboatworks.com/specificationssingles.htm">Hudson lightweight
single, is sweet but sensitive. Concentrating on proper form made a huge
difference in bringing down my split times. And I was rowing the whole time, with
no nonsense about coxing, swapping out, or drills with only some people rowing, so
I was warm enough, despite temperatures in the high 40s. It's such luxury to just
get in a boat and row, on a calm clear predawn morning, with no waste of time, no
chatter, no waiting, no damned politics.
I have a feeling I'm likely
to post again today; in two hours and eight minutes, I get to go see Harry Potter!