Cloudy mornings bring the most spectacular sunrises to row under out here. We
don't have the featureless leayers of gray I remember from the East Coast; instead
there are sullen dark storms low to the South west, topped with swirls reflecting
a dim pink, confections of fluff and flame over the rising sun to the west,
feathers and ripples of white overhead, cumulus clouds to the north showing a bit
of the anviling toward the tops that presage storms later in the day, bits of
white and blue between the clouds. And all of this is echoed in ripples in the
lake below, bisected by the stark lines of electrical towers, set off by the
festive lights lining the Mill Avenue bridge, and accented by the pink reflection
off the belly of an airplane passing overhead.
Of course, this would all be a bit better enjoyed in silence, instead of being
shattered by the noise of that same airplane, whose takeoff path takes it right
over the lake from the airport not far away. The earthshaking rumbles and
earsplitting whistles of the trains crossing another bridge and the drone of the
highway running beside the lake don't help either. Still, when there isn't a plane
taking off or a train going by, the highway can be ignored and the sky appreciated
to the full.
Another benefit of the clouds is the effect they and the storm they rode in on
have on the temperature. The last few days have been well above 90 even at 5AM,
but today it's as close as Arizona in August ever gets to being comfortable.
There's a bit of humidity left from last night's rain, but compared to the heat a
few days ago, though, this weather is barely distracting.
There are several good reasons to row, but two that stand out are the beauty of
lakes and rivers and the satisfaction of doing something that isn't easy. You may
know that at the beginning of this year,
href="http://marn.diaryland.com">Marn set herself a goal to walk 500 miles to
nowhere on the treadmill by the end of 2003. Being the sociable sort she is, Marn
didn't just write down her New Year's resolution on a piece of paper and then lose
the paper, as the rest of us do. Instead she announced the resolution on her
diary, suckered in got a few more folks to join her, and then set up
another diary page, Fivehundred, to
let everyone keep track of their mileage. She also emailed a few people she
thought might be interested. I was one of those, and figured I'd be rowing the
distance eanyway and it might be fun to work toward an actual goal. At the time, I
was working on my goal to erg a
href="http://dichroic.diaryland.com/millmtrs.html">million meters, so I
tracked both that as well as a goal to finish five hundred miles counting both
water and erg time.
This morning when I got on the water, I needed 11.1 km to reach 804.5 km, or 500
miles. The water was calm for a change, the air was cooler for an even bigger
change. The first leg of the lake, about 3500m is always the hardest. I start
doing fractions: 1/10 done now, 1/5 done, 1/3 done and only 2 more similar efforts
to go. The very first bit from the beach to the west dam and back to the Mill
bridges is an easy thousand meters, but from there to the Rural bridge and on to
the east dam stretches on and on. The wind was from the southeast today, so at
least there was a hint of breeze. Rowing back to finish the first lap is with the
wind, so the boat moves a little faster, but because I'm moving in the same
direction as the breeze I can't feel any air movement and it's much hotter.
The early-morning kinks are out and the muscles are moving so this leg feels much
shorter, but I still always watch meters and count fractions: up to 4500 meters by
the Rural bridge, over 5000 at the midway marker, 6000 by the beach as I finish
the first lap. Less than half to go now. I usually cut the second lap shorter, but
I'm going to have to stretch it a bit today. Up to the west dam, stop for water,
detour around Rudder in his single and Hardcore and She-Hulk in the double.
They've got a short workout today because they're tapering down for their race
next weekend. Back to the Mill bridge and it's up over 7000, so I know I need to
row about 2000 meters before I turn in for home. By now I've got trackbite, marks
from the seat rails, on the backs of both calves and my fingers are slipping a bit
on the oar handles. Here's a novel effect: my hands are so wet from sweat that
fingers start to prune up like when you stay in the pool for too long.
Through the Rural bridge, on another two hundred meters, and a little more for
lagniappe, and a bit more just to reach the 2K markers, just because it's a good
place to turn. Turn around now and the sun is up and in my eyes, but if I look
straight along my boat and down a bit it's not too bad. The light wind has shifted
a fwe degrees, so there's the tiny hint of a breeze. Take water and head for home.
Two thousand meters left to go, no, fifteen hundred, now down to a thousand and
that's about 150 strokes. Count them down, watch the meters on the strokecoach, do
the math. Ten thousand five hundred meters beings me up to 803.8 km and I need
804.5.
Right then I start hearing Sweet Honey in the Rock in my head, chorusing on a Pete
Seeger song: "Step by step the longest march / Can be won, can be won. / Many
stones can build an arch / Singly none, singly none." Yeah, my head does
soundtracks. Only 600 meters to go now and I can do that on my head and with one
hand behind my back. It'll be just a bit over the 11.1 I need by the time I get to
the beach, I can see that, but what's another 200? Counting down, down, 300 from
the beach and I'm nearly there, 200, 100, and in with 11.3 kilometers clocked.
That's 11.3 for today, 804.7 for the year. Made it.