This morning, we ended up with three women rowing a quad. DI rigged a four into a quad (added riggers on both sides, basically, so it can handle 8 oars). This means that, unusually for a quad, it has a coxswain’s seat. Normally, a quad is steered from bow seat, by having the rowers row harder on one side or the other, and by using a setup that lets you turn the boat by angling one foot. This is somewhat tricky, since a quad is very fast (8 oars, little dead weight) and the bow rower, like all rowers, is facing backwards so that she has to peer over her shoulder to see where she’s going.
Anyway, we were about to go out with four people and a cox, when we realized one oar was missing a handle. No idea how that happened, but apparently whoever carried it down didn’t notice. We got yelled at by Yosemite Sam for that, then he had us remove the broken oar and go out with only three people, and no cox (to save weight). Not having the coxswain was actually a bit of a relief, as a) she was fairly heavy and b) she’s a new rower who had never done this before, and this unusual situation was probably not the best time to learn.
So there we are, three people in a four-person boat, and me in bow seat without the usual toe-steering setup, so that we had to steer entirely by rowing harder on one side than the other. And all of that explanation was just background to explain why it was surprising that we had a great time.
This has been my experience in the past, and not just in rowing. There’s a point when so many things go wrong that it just gets silly, and then you can give up the Serious Determined Attitude and just have fun with it. When your umbrella blows inside out and your shoes aren’t waterproof and it’s so windy the rain is blowing up your raincoat, there’s a point when you just have to start jumping in puddles to see the splash and dancing around lamp posts while whistling Singing in the Rain. Or I do, anyway.
None of which is to say we weren’t trying hard to row well; the other women in the boat are both very good and we were concentrating on our drills the whole time. I think I got the set off the boat off several times, turning my whole upper body to look behind me instead of just peeking over my shoulder, because I was so determined we were not going to hit any bridges, walls, buoys, or other boats, but it was still a lot better than the set of Monday’s boat, which had no such excuse.
Now I have to go to a meeting to explain why my Contribution Report, on which we’re judged at work, was miscalculated and should be a lot better than it was. Maybe I can apply the same attitude adjustment.
Posted by dichroic at June 6, 2001 08:31 AM