Dichroic Reflections

body progress entry

numbers below the cut, no photos

June 24
weight:123.5
1" below shoulders: 39.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11", both sides
Waist: 28.0"
Hips: 36.0"
Upper thigh, flexed: 20.0", both sides
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.0", both sides
I'd call it progress, but I think the loss of weight and what's probably fat in shoulder and thigh probably has more to do with being sick forever and having no appetite for a week or so last month.

June 24
weight:127.0
1" below shoulders: 39.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11", both sides
Waist: 28.0" - YAY!!!
Hips: 36.0"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21", both sides (it's hard to know where to measure to be consistent!)
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.25", both sides
So actual progress this month, yay again!

May 27
weight:128.0 (but this is the heaviest point of my cycle - April's same weight wasn't)
1" below shoulders: 40.25
Upper arms, flexed: 11.25", both sides
Waist: 28.5" - rats, still no change
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.25"

April 8:
current
weight:128.0
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

rowing and more rowing

Rudder and his men's doubles partner have won their first medals of the regatta; they came in third in the Men's Lightweight double, C age category. It must have been a hard-fought race; they were only fifteen hundredths of a second out of second place!

Another of our local rowers should have rowed her race now, but the results seem to be lagging behind - in a phone clal home this morning, Rudder mentioned that there was supposed to be some wind today, so maybe they've had to stop the races for a bit. She-Hulk and I were discussing the times yesterday and clearly there was a considerable headwind then.

Meanwhile, I've done my share of rowing without ever leaving home - I erged a half marathon this morning (21097 meters, 13.1 miles). The sore throat had me worried a little yesterday because it was only on one side in the morning and was on both by the time I left work, but thankfully it apparently yisn't a harbinger of returning disease. I had just a trace of it this morning and obviously am eeling all right otherwise. My fingers hurt, though - one ide effct og half marathons is that after pulling on the grip for two hours, my fingernails always hurt because the rest of the finger sort of gets pushed againsts them several thousand times. This was my first half-marathon for this year, and I spent so much time not working out much because of being ill recently that I'm really happy I was able to do it without a break. On Monday, She-Hulk and I will take a double out. It will be nice to get back on the water!

A few minutes later: antother local, the one with whom Rudder's rowing in the mixed double, has just won her singles race. Not a big surprise - she's a former Olympian from Bulgaria and generally does win by a wide margin - bt she takes her racing very seriously and makes a point never to take winning for granted nonetheless. I'm keeping an updated list of results on the Outlaws website.

Fare you well, Sunset

This morning I rowed one lap then packed up my boat for good, or at least for a while. Depending on what adventures come our way, she will spend the next 1-4 years hanging from the ceiling of my in-laws' garage. This is not a happy place for the boat; there's NO WATER there. (At least, not unless something is very wrong.) My boat loves the water. Whenever I leave her at the side of the beach without oars holding her down she tries to run off to sea. I don't think she will enjoy life in a garage, grateful as I am to my in-laws for hosting her.

We had one last lap this morning before unrigging and loading her up. I kept thinking, "the last time" - the last time I'd move her from the rack to the slings, the last time I carried her to the lake, the last time we set off from the beach, went through the bridges, made the turn, came back in. I'll row her again someday, but it's likely to be in another place entirely.

She is a Hudson Elite single, a better boat than my skills deserve; her stablemates race at high levels, including for the US and Canadian national teams, in regattas like the World Championships and the Olympics. I've let her down a few times, coming last in some races, but she's never let me down. There was an ugly race in Long Beach a few years ago, when I watched videotape of myself flopping around at the finish, losing focus from fatigue, when I swore to myself that however I did in my races I would never watch videotape like that again. I might finish last but I would finish strong and controlled, rowing hard and focused and never giving in no matter how the race went. I've kept that vow; there have been races since when I finished last, but never one I was embarassed to have rowed. I feel I've lived up to my boat a little, in that time.

Under the wide and wind-wracked sky,
We scud along, my boat and I.

We took delivery of Sunrise and Sunet, my boat and Rudder's, in July four years and a week ago.

The boats are patterned after the Arizona state flag. My boat is a little smaller than Rudder's and is distinguished by stars on the deck, in the shape of the Big Dipper from the Alaska flag - we had just returned from Alaska when they arrived. Together, we have rowed under starry winter skies before subrise and under the clouds that Arizona hides in the dawn, that disappear as the sun climbs. We're rowed on mirror-smooth water and in waves rough enough to splash over the deck. We've seen hundreds of sunrises and a couple of sunsets, watched egrets and pelicans fly over, rowed by seals in Mission Bay and a beaver than somehow found its way to Tempe. We've rowed together in Tennessee and Arizona, Louisiana and Oregon, California and Nevada, done races of 300 meters and races of 26.2 miles. We've worked through distance training and speed training, changes in technique and uncountable drills, hard practices much too early in the morning and relaxed daytime paddles. We've been out in 32-degree frosty mornings in the dark and under 100-degree Arizona sun. There have been dents and dings for both of us, blisters and paint chips and sore muscles and fiberglass repairs.

“Of all sports, rowing offers the least to outward seeming. It is hard work unleavened by variety. Worse, a man attending to business can't see where he is going. The pleasure compensating for this madness is at once simple and subtle. A need of men, generally denied, them, is to feel a part of something which works smoothly and well. In a mated crew the ideal is reached, the feeling of perfection passing back and forth from the individual to the team like an electric current. Until exhaustion breaks the spell, there is no more to be desired.”

--from "Silverlock", by John Myers Myers, a man who clearly know his way around a shell

Rowing shells are fast but fragile. The elite boats are not forgiving of bad form, but reward each improvement of technique with another bit of speed. They don't deal well with rough water, high wind, or rocky beaches and a rower can't see where she's going. A kayak is much better for exploring, but on flat water a rowing shell can leave a kayak far behind. Their stiff fragility and the care they need means that rowing shells don't last long unless they're well-cared for.

Tomorrow, Rudder leaves to drive to the Masters National Championship Regatta in Seattle. (He's borrowing She-Hulk's single to race in.) On the way back he will leave my boat and his double at his parents' house in Oregon. I can't really complain to Rudder, not after his boat was totalled in a freak windstorm last week. I can't complain at work, where I really don't want to explain why we're sending the boats away. But I will miss my Sunset on the water in the sunrise.

storm damage

Rudder's boat is totalled.

We had a hellacious storm last night, tons of rain (over an inch at our house - very rare in the desert), thunder and lightning right there. I didn't notice a lot of wind, or at least I couldn't hear it from my bed. I didn't get up to look out. But apparently there was plenty of wind at the boatyard. It knocked over a whole rack of oars into the rack where his boat is stored. He went out to row this morning, fdound the damage, and asked me to stop by with a camera on my way to work.

His single and the one above it are both bent. Boats are not supposed to bend. Each boat sits on two arms of the rack, spaced about six or eight feet apart, with the cockpit (the area with the seat and foot stretchers) between them. The section of Rudder's boat and the one above it from the rear rack on back to the stern is bent downward at a sharp angle, with shards and corners of fiberglass bulging out. Just to add a final insult, Rudder's boat came down onto the one below it (which appears undamaged) and that boat's skeg has pirced deep into his boat.

It's very painful to look at.

If it had to happen, this is almost the best time, since he was planning to take the boats up to his parents' on the way back from Masters Nationals, since our sojourn abroad is beginning to firm up. The only problem, of course, is Masters Nationals itself. The double and my single are undamaged, which is ironic, since I've decided not to go to Masters Nationals. A couple of people have already offered to loan Rudder a boat for the race, including She-Hulk, whose single is nearly a twin to Rudder's, so he has options. But still, it always hurts to see something as beautiful as a rowing shell ruined.

EDITED TO ADD: Yes, the boats are insured. Rudder's just hoping the insurance guy agrees that the boat is totaled and doesn't think it can be repaired. (It probably could be repaired to look OK, but it would be heavier, less balanced and not nearly strong or stiff enough for competition - or possibly for safety.)

fitness- actual progress, what do you know

Numbers and pics below the cut, not of general interest, go away.

Current
weight:127.0
1" below shoulders: 39.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11", both sides
Waist: 28.0" - YAY!!!
Hips: 36.0"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21", both sides (it's hard to know where to measure to be consistent!)
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.25", both sides
So actual progress this month, yay again!

May 27
weight:128.0 (but this is the heaviest point of my cycle - April's same weight wasn't)
1" below shoulders: 40.25
Upper arms, flexed: 11.25", both sides
Waist: 28.5" - rats, still no change
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.25"

April 8:
current
weight:128.0
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"
Just for perspective, I need to say again that I'm only 5'2".

It actually does look like there's been some progress - in order, these photos are from May 2005, April 2006, and today:

When I put that bikini on today, I noticed that it's a size XL. That means I bought it in the girl's section. (Why Abercrombie was marketing string bikinis to people who are meant to be shopping in that size range, I don't want to think about.)

North Tahoe Rowing Regatta

This entry is long, so in case you're in a hurry:
Regatta report, short version, just to spoil the surprise:
Old Salt and Dr. Bosun won - they were the mixed double on the short course, but they set a course record.
I won(!!!) - first of three in the Women's Maas Aeros on the short course.
Rudder came in fourth, out of a very competitive field of about 13, in the Maas 24 in the long course.

Long discursive version:
Lake Tahoe is a gorgeous, gorgeous place to row. For once, Rudder and I didn't have to drive; Old Salt, his wife the Artist, and Dr. Bosun not only drove the van, not only loaded it without our help (of course we offered, but they said they didn't need us) but actually loaned us the boats. Rudder rowed Old Salt's Maas 24 and I rowed his Maas Aero. Old Salt and Dr. Bosun rowed the double. Rudder and I got in to our hotel at King's Beach late Thursday night; looking out the window, I saw our room faced the hotel parking lot. It wasn't until the next morning I saw that what we actually had was a view of that beautiful lake. We met the other two there to get our boats off the van and went out for a morning row to get used to the boats. I had only rowed the Aero once before, in about 1999, but it's a really nice boat to row, friendly and eager to please, as long as you're not in a hurry. It's made for open water rowing, so is more stable and less speedy than flatwater boats like my Hudson single. We just did a short row that morning, out to the point that was the first turning point for the short course I'd be racing.
After that, we went to the coffeeshop next door to pick up breakfast. While there, a book jumped into my arms and said, "Can I come home with you? Pleeease?" I own and like a bunch of Will Shetterly's books, but had been a little reluctant to try Dogland because it's different from the others - not fantasy, mostly. But there it was in a large-format softcover with a $1 tag on it, sitting under a sign that said something about a book swap. I think the cashier was a little startled when I wanted to pay for it, but I only had two other books with me and I didn't want to leave either in its place. As it turns out, though, if I had bought a copy for full price it would have been well worth it.

Rudder and I were supposed to meet up with the others at their campsite for dinner, so we decided to spend the afternoon being tourists. We drove all the way around the lake, stopping at the scenic points to clamber over rocks and take photos. Lots of photos - I'll post the best to Flickr, once I've downloaded them. We finished at the campsite near Tahoe City, where Dr. Bosun cooked up a big spaghetti dinner for all of us (now including two of the Old Salt's and the Artist's grown children and the girlfriend of one). By the time none of us could eat any more and the Old Salt was trying to alienate nearby campers by playing us David Allen Coe songs on the van's stereo, it was time for us to head back to the hotel and get some sleep.

Race day had weather just as perfect as the day before (and the day after). It was extremely convenient having the race staged out of our hotel; the boats were stored on and launched from the beack about two minutes' walk from our room, so we could even go back and use the bathroom after the race meeting. They launched the racers ont he long course first, in several waves: first the doubles, then the men's faster Maas 24s (Rudder's race), the Men's Aeros, then all the women. Next they launched the short course: first the double (Old Salt and Dr. Bosun) and the flatwater racing shells, then all the women (including me) then all the men. The race categories were by boat design, so while all the women launched together, I was only competing against those in Aero like mine.

One woman shot ahead from the beginning; I knew she was in a 24. Another was a little ahead but pulled away from the rest of us slowly; I hoped she was in one also. Another dropped behind the rest of us and the remaining woman and I stayed close all the way down the course. The first buoy was visible from the starting point, so the first leg was easier to steer, though my turn wasn't as good as it could have been. I couldn't see the next buoy from the first turn at all, and it was out in the middle of the lake, not near any any landmark I could sight on. This being open water racing, I had both a compass and a GPS, but the latter didn't work at all - it neverswitched from the starting waypoint to the first turn, let alone any later turns. The compass was only semi-useful; it's a hiking one, where you're supposed to turn the bezel to match the needle's north, which of course I couldn't do while rowing. The compass was taped to the boat, so of course the bezel turned when I did. It was a little bit of help, because I could at least estimate where my course was, for instance by knowing that an 89-degree course would be roughly at right angles to the needle. That's not precise enough to help in a race, so most I steered by watching other people until I was finally close enough to spot the buoy. That would have worked better if I'd known which other racers knew where they were going. I was a bit faster than the woman close to me, but she steered a better course, so she'd pull up to me than I'd catch up once I sighted the course. (At the time, though, I had no way of knowing if she was on or off course.) I finished only three seconds ahead of her, still not sure if she was in my category.

Since the long course took much longer to row, and since my boat was so stable, I decided to risk the camera. I paddled into shore, and got it from the Old Salt's daughter, who had most intelligently figured out which backpack was ours, gotten the camera out figured out our camera, and taken pictures of the double and of me coming into shore. (All of which I'd have asked her to do, but she wasn't there yet when we launched for the race.) I slung it over my neck and shoulder and rowed back out to the finish to take pictures of Rudder finishing.

After the race there was a wonderful lunch for the competitors and spectators. Once we were all too full to eat any more (which takes some doing for rowers right after a race) they announced the winners. They gave out water bottles instead of medals. (I'd have liked a medal - it's hard to hang a bottle on your wall.) For each event, they gave out awards to both the winner in raw time and to the winner after adjusting the time for age handicaps. Rudder was fourth in his race, but his was very competitive. Most of the people who beat him were ones he knew, some of the fastest rowers from along the California coast whom he's always pitted against at our bigger regattas. Old Salt and Dr. Bosun won, of course, being the only boat in their event, but they also set a record for the course. My jaw dropped when I was told I'd set the initial course record for my category, mostly in surprise - I knew that others had raced in that category in the past, so couldn't figure out why there wasn't an existing record for me to break or (more likely) not. It also puzzled me that I'd won with a time 13 full minutes slower than Dr. Bosun's winning time fromt he previous year. She'd been in a faster boat, but not that much faster - 13 minutes over 7000 meters is a whole lot. I won my race, but the woman I'd finished just ahead of won with the handicaps, so we both got bottles. What made me even happier was that I'd beat most of the men in the Aeros, along with a couple of people, both male and female, in the faster boats.

For the rest of the day, Rudder and I stayed in the room and did our best impressions of vegetation. Eventually we went out, had some excellent pizza two doors down from the hotel (this really was the most convenient set-up), then walked along the beach and watched hang gliders land. Coming back to the hotel we went and looked again at the race times, now posted, and found they'd been corrected. Apparently they'd used the same start time for all waves to launch on the short course. It didn't affect the results of each race, but all of our times were significantly faster. So that made it more sensible; I did still beat a couple of the men in the Aeros and even one guy in the faster boat, but not more than half of them. I pointed out to the organizer that, since the results from last year she'd posted for comparison did include someone in my category who had rowed the race faster, so I really didn't set a record. Apparently she'd just missed it, not surprising in the flurry of race planning. She also commented that the buoys might not have been placed quite correctly this year, so between that and the six minutes that the adjustment shaved off my time, it was all a lot more reasonable compared to last year's times. And of course, I still won my race!

The Old Salt kindly left the boats by the hotel for an extra day so that Rudder and I could take one more row on Tahoe on Sunday morning. We joined a whole flotilla of rowers setting out and went past the point where my race course had turned, over into Crystal Bay. We were going to row to a beach we'd spotted (possibly Sand Harbor, not sure), but that bay is deceptively large, and by the time we were finally starting to get somewhere close to the beach, my hands and bladder were all saying maybe it was time to turn around. (Also, when you're rowing across the middle of a bay, the scenery doesn't change the way it does when you're closer to shore and rowing around a point.) When we got back to shore, we found the Old Salt and Dr. Bosun had stopped by. (This is getting annoying. One of these days I may just give up and use first names.) We were very glad to see them, because the original plan had been for them to come by in the afternoon, after we'd left, and load up. This way we got to help.

After eating and showering, we had to check out of the hotel, but we still had an hour or so to kill. We used it up walking around Truckee's small but nice old downtown area, which provided the final surreal moment of the trip when I spotted the sign for Jimmy Bean Wool. I hadn't even known they had a brick-and-mortar store, but they have a big web store and are often one of the first to come up when I search online for a yarn. Apparently they have two stores; the other is in Reno. Of course, we went in. I restricted myself to a couple of skeins of sock yarn, because I had to be able to fit anything I'd bought in my backpack. We also visited a few galleries and an old-fashioned soda fountain who'd apparently never heard of chocolate soda before (at least, not without ice cream). The excursion used up just about the amount of time we needed to use before heading off to the airport, the trip back was smooth and we got home early enough to go out for Cajun food and get to bed almost on time. (It would have been in plenty of time if somebody hadn't refused to take the standard post-race day off from rowing practice this morning. Husbands. Humph.)

So yeah, beautiful place, good company, well-organized regatta, time to sightsee. Good weekend. And did I mention I won?????

extremely mixed double

Rudder and I rowed together in the double this morning, not a usual thing. The plan four July 4th week is to spend a few days with his family, race on Saturday in the Rural Henley, a small race at Klamath Falls, OR, drive to Sacramento (6 hours) immediately after the race, where we'll meet a bunch of other Outlaw rowers, then race there on Sunday and drive home on Monday. Since it will be just the two of us and a small race, we plan to race a double together. We've never raced a small boat together and in fact today was only about our third time in a double together. (We have raced in the same boat often, but usually with me coxing and him rowing in an eight. Not at all the same.) It went very well, I think better than either of us expected. It helps that we've worked with the same coaches and have critiqued each other and row in the same style. We were actually pretty fast, certainly faster than I'd have expected. Today's planned workout was to do three laps of our lake, including warm up, 4 ten-minute pieces each consisting of 4 min at a rate of 28, 3 min at 30, 2 at 32, 1 at 34 and a cooldown. Rudder went a little easy on me, at least; we did the first piece at rates from 22 to 28, the second from 24-30, and the third and fourth from 26-32. For the two of us, rowing at 34 strokes per minute is clearly a little silly - that is, we could do it but on the recovery we'd be hauling ourselves up the slides instead of letting the boat move under us. It was good though, smooth and coordinated and with only minor issues. We did well at correcting any problems. It was much better than a usual third row with a new partner, but I suppose you could say we've been working on matching our rhythm for a long time now.

I'm tired still. (Though not as tired as I'll be after two back to back races and all that driving!)

In other news, in the sweater I'm knitting, I've gotten as far along as I was on Sunday when I had to frog the whole thing. (Sort of a standard knitting joke; frog because rip-it, rip-it.) This time I am sure i's not twisted. (Of course, I was pretty sure last time too. Still not sure how that happened.) Also, I have a bunch of tiny jasper stars, one larger jasper star, one moon bead made of some kind of black sonte (maybe a different sort of jasper) and a shard of jasper that reminds me of a comet that want to be something together. Problem is, I'm not sure whether they want to be earrings, a necklace, or maybe even a barrette, and then what shape they want to be in. (I think the little stars want to dangle, though.) I may just wait a bit and see what other night-sky beads I come across (if I wait for November I'll have a meteorite bead!) and what ideas flutter by.

getting ready for Tahoe

This Lake Tahoe regatta in two weeks is going to be interesting. As of last weekend, Dr. Bosun dumped me; she was very apologetic about it, but she called and asked if I'd mind rowing the single while she and the Old Salt rowed a double instead, because she didn't think we (she and I) were enjoying rowing together. It's true we had a lot of adjustments to make but we'd already done all of that so now I feel like we wasted our time. On the other hand, it's also true that she's a bit annoying to row with (and I think she was politely trying not to say that the converse is true as well). Also Rudder had a brilliant idea: She-Hulk had been hoping to row in Tahoe as well, and hadn't yet found a boat to borrow, so his idea was for her to row a double with me. I broached the idea to her and she was enthusiastic. So for this regatta, we will have Rudder in a single, Dr. Bosun and the Old Salt in a mixed double, and me and She-Hulk in a women's double.

The other interesting aspect is in the nature of the race. Apparently LakeTahoe counts as open water, rougher than the flat lakes we normally row on. There are two courses, a long loop of 8.75 nm and a short loop of 3.75 nm (16.205 and 6.945 km respectively). Rudder's racing the long course, the rest of us are saner. Flatwater boats (that is, our normal ones) are allowed to race the short course; only open-water boats (wider, usually with self-balers) are allowed to row the long course. All boats are required to carry a PFD (personal flotation device = life jacket). Normally rowers are not required to carry a separate PFD because our oars are Coast Guard-approved flotation devices. Also, they encourage everyone to carry a compass and/or GPS. I'm trying to encourge Rudder to carry one; he keeps making the point that he won't be able to see it while rowing, but my point is that it might be handy to have in case he gets lost enough to be willing to stop. The short course is in sight of land all the way, but I think I'll take a compass. (Actually, the long course is too, it's just a little further out.)

The thing I regret most about being in a double with Dr. Bosun is that she's done the race before and seems to think course-finding will be no issue. She-Hulk hasn't, and I suspect she'll be a little more nervous about it - and since she prefers to row bow, she'll be the one steering. We'll manage, though. On the other hand, we've raced together several times and are pretty comfortable rowing together; she's a chameleon who follows whatever her stroke (person in stroke seat, i.e. me) does. The down side to that is that she adapts no matter what I do so I won't necessarily improve; a couple of Dr. Bosun's comments actually were very helpful, pointing out things I needed to correct not just in our double but in general. But She-Hulk is more comfortable to row with, and over nearly 7 miles, that will be a good thing.

fitness - progress or lack thereof

Time for progress photos and measurements again. Last time I did this was April 8; that entry, with pictures, is here. My stomach looks much better in the current set, but that has more to do with sucking it in to the point of discomfort (because I was originally going to use these for the portrait project) than to actual progress. (Also, today's photos were taken shortly after a gym session).

current
weight:128.0 (but this is the heaviest point of my cycle - April's same weight wasn't)
1" below shoulders: 40.25
Upper arms, flexed: 11.25", both sides
Waist: 28.5" - rats, still no change
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.25"

April 8:
current
weight:128.0
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

So the legs are a trifle smaller - I think I gain weight from the center out and lose it from the extremities in, with the gut always being the first to gain and the last to lose.

training for Tahoe

Lots of meetings yesterday and today, so not much time to update. I'm trying to train pretty hard, but after a while it just gets to be too much - for instance, I'd rowed Friday, Saturday and Monday, including extra distance on Monday, and gone ot the gym yesterday. Today I was planning to row, but had a 7:30 telecon, so I decided to erg instead. There was at least a possibility of waking up at 4 (well, waking up at 4 when Rudder got up was a given, but getting out of bed was a possibility) or 4:30 so I could get some decent distance. I was definitely starting to feel burned out and just plain tired, though. Instead I slept until 5 and only managed to get in 5K on the erg. I'm going to take tomorrow off completely, row Friday, and go to the gym on Saturday. That will be similar to last week's pattern, which worked fairly well in having me feel strong and energetic for the last several rows.

Next week Rudder will be off traveling. I need to not slack off while he's gone, but rather hit the training pretty hard, because the week after that I can begin s slight taper for the lake Tahoe race. It's a bit of an anomaly, though, a longer race at a time in the year when we're usually doing sprints. I'll be rowing it in a double with Dr. Bosun. We went out last Saturday in the double belonging to Old Salt that we're intending to row in; we had to make a lot of adjustments to both the boat and our rowing, but it felt much better toward the end. We only rowed at a light pressure, though. We're going to row again in Rudder's double next week to see if it feels better, and I hope we can row a bit more at race pressure.

Dr. Bosun tends to do a lot of coaching while rowing; I don't think she means it as "I'm better than you and am telling you what to do" but as "this is what I see in your rowing, please tell me what you see in mine". I think some people have tended to assume the former rather than the latter and to get annoyed, but she was eager to hear any feedback I had for her, and in fact one of her comments was a useful change for me to make in my single as well as in our double. Fortunately she said it in a way that worked for me. If she had said, "You should begin pulling your arms too late" I would have assumed it was only a style difference and might have changed it in the double but not in my single. What she said, though, was, "I feel a check in the boat; I think it happens when you start bringing your arms in." A check in the boat's forward motion is always a bad thing, no matter what style you use, and when I tried bending my arms sooner she said she wasn't feeling the check anymore. That's something that's a big deal for me in training: saying the thing in the way that makes sense to the student. There is no one right way of training, because there is no one way of learning that works for everyone. For me, in rowing, I'm only going to listen to you if what you're saying makes physics / biomechanical / physiological sense.

At any rate, I think this race is more about a chance to go out rowing in a beautiful place than about any fierce competition. Still, feeling you did your best is always a good thing and winning a medal is even better.

data

Now that's seriously cool. Because we had so many regatta pictures that were good enough to share, I decided to start using Flickr. I knew it was a good way to share photos and that I could make a little photo "badge" to show tiny thumbnails in a blog (like the one here, in the right column) and let people click it to see the photos in a more visible size. What I didn't know was that if you scroll to Additional Information and click on More Properties, it shows precise data about how the photo was taken: camera type, exposure, aperture, date taken, focal length, metering pattern, flash, and on and on. This seemed especially improbable because the photos went through a few programs: I downloaded to iPhoto on the Mac, exported them in the size I wanted, then used Flickr's Uploadr tool. It turns out, according to Flickr, "Almost all new digital cameras save JPEG (jpg) files with EXIF (Exchangeable Image File) data. Camera settings and scene information are recorded by the camera into the image file."

I wonder if all that is saved even if I postprocess in Photoshop? Probably. Anyway, way cool.

I've also been goofing around honing my chartmaking skills playing with graphs from the race data. My main conclusion is that I definitely need to race Antgirl more often - she's a little more consistent and has a faster final sprint, but otherwise we're much closer than I'd have thought.

weekend portraits

Here are my favorite pictures of us from the weekend. Me in the quad after our race:

I cropped it, lightened shadows and played with the color balance a smidge.

And Rudder with his men's doubles partner - they look so commanding because I was lying on the ground and was too lazy to get up. No post-processing at all except to scale down the image:

There were lots of good pictures, though; you can see more of them here.

Gold Rush

The regatta weekend was fun, and now I'm sitting here wishing I was back in it instead of here at work. I'll try to combine the weekend's the stories with a chronological order.

I left work at noon. This was a bit difficult since my boss two levels up (henceforth BTLU) had put together a big meeting of people from all over the country. I was supposed to present, we were running an hour late, and though I'd discussed needing to leave with both my old and new bosses (pre and post last week's reorg) I wasn't sure if anyone had told BTLU. I finally broke it to him; he looked surprised (I found out a few minutes later that he had been told - probably wasn't listening) but we did manage to work it out so I got to do my preso. And didn't get fired for leaving. Then I snuck out, picked up Antgirl (well, she needs a nom and that's what she studies) and sandwiches, and went home, where Rudder was packing the last bits and pieces into the Hummer. We drove to Frazier Park (north of LA, just past the Grapevine), spent the night there and then drove the rest of the way to Sacramento on Friday. After unloading the boats, Rudder and I had dinner with his grandparents, who live just on the other side of town, and his parents, who came in for the weekend.

We now have cafeteria envy. His grandparents live in one of those care centers where you have an apartment of your own and then can get the increasing levels of care you need as you age (well, at least in theory - it's not working out entirely as planned for them). They have a large dining room, nicely done in an Arts & Crafts / Mission style, with very good food - not institutional-ish at all and nothing at all like any of the work or dorm cafeterias I've eaten in. We wish we had one like it, so we didn't have to cook and plan all our own meals. Why should we have to wait until retirement? Also, it was a very good pre-regatta meal - roast beef or salmon, several choices of veg, pasta, salads, desserts, and served early in the evening. I want one!

On Saturday, I had four races, and Rudder had six or so. The race seemed to be less well-attended than other years, but the level of competition was higher. (This may be because they moved it from Memorial Day weekend to earlier in May, luring fewer more casual competitors.) We didn't get a ton of medals this time around. In the quad, we won a bronze medal - and even better, we came from behind and passed another crew, so that was very satisfying. (In this race, they handicap for age by making younger crews start later - we had an 8 second handicap.) I finished not only last but DFL in both my singles races (sigh) but was felt like I was pulling strong, cleanly, and at full-out power in both. I'd have been extremely happy with my races, if not for that pesky part about being way behind the other competitors. Sigh. On the other hand, I did have a 16-second handicap, while the youngest other competitor had 7 seconds and most of the others had 0-2 seconds. These women may have been older (the oldest was 55) but they were buff! The woman starting at the zero mark - that is, the oldest one in the race - looked much more like 40 than 55 from where I was sitting, 13 meters away. Good reason to keep rowing.

I did make lightweight with no trouble - in fact, I was able to weigh in with jacket and shoes on and be just a fraction under the 130 lb cutoff, so that was good. I think I may have to lose a few of those extra pounds for real, but my weight fluctuates so much normally it's hard to tell. Also, there's a fine balance between staying properly hydrated and not having to make pit-stops every hour, so I probably was a little dehydrated all weekend.

Rudder got fewer medals than usual for him. He didn't do well in his singles race - well, there was a lot of competition, with about 10 people split into two heats, and he did make it to finals. that he was 5 of 6 in the finals, based on results in past races, tends to indicate some national-caliber competition which in fact there was. He and our other male rower did win silver medals in their men's doubles and men's quad races (The quad was with two guys from San Diego). This year, Rudder didn't race lightweight at all, and he and She-Hulk decided to race in a mixed quad rather than their usual double. I think they regretted that. He raced the 300m dash this year, and of course I did because it's my favorite race, but this year, the fast people stayed until end and neither of us did well.

Cubemate, who's only been rowing sculls (two oars rather than one) for about a month and Antgirl did fairly well in their double - 4 of 6, very good considering this was the first big Masters regatta for both of them.Antgirl also came in third in her single - her first single race except for a small local one in horrible conditions - making her the only female Outlaw to achieve "clinkage". (Our term for multiple medals.) She-Hulk didn't do well in her single, her least favorite event, but did better in her double with a rower from San Diego, finishing just a few seconds from a medal.

I think everyone had a good time. Every Outlaw went home with at least one medal, and though some of us might have wished to do a little better, we all had races that felt good, that we can be proud of. We have lots of video so we can spot our flaws, and largely thanks to Cubemate's fiancee, our Pit Crew Extraordinaire, we have lots of great still photos. I've only seen them on the camera's little screen so far, but if they look as good blown up as they did there, I'll be posting a couple here as part of my self-and-Rudder-portrait project and sharing the rest on Flickr. (I'll post a couple no matter what, and a few more on the Outlaw website but it looks like there are a lot of good ones.)

Antgirl was going on to meet her brother, who lives in the Bay Area, so it was Rudder and me on the drive home - we enjoyed her company but it was nice to have the alone time too. And then as usual it was down to the two of us unloading. We were a boat-moving machine, getting four boats and accompanying parts unloaded in the boatyard in under half an hour - also as usual, a half hour well past our usual bedtimes, so we had incentive to be efficient. We might be groggy, but we have this stuff down to a fine science.

The main thing wrong with this weekend is that now it's over. But we get to do it again at a race on Lake Tahoe in June and then in back-to-back races in Oregon and back to Sacramento in July.

Photos soon.

progress and lack thereof

Some pictures and measurements below the cut, mostly not of general interest.

current
weight:128.0
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 36.5" (that counts as progress, at least)
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

December 19
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11 1/8"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 22.0"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

Setember 28
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11.0"
Waist: 28" (minor progress, but I'll take it)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.0"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

August 25
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11 1/8"
Waist: 28.5" (drat)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

May 25.
1" below shoulders: 41.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5" (eek)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 15.5"

I'm including this picture in clothes to demonstrate why I'm still a bit uncomfortable with the recent increase in boobage (best guess is that it's due to a change to supposedly lower-dosage birth control pills), after having been a 32A since puberty.

regatta writeup

How was the regatta?

Cold. Very cold. Also wet.

The Old Salt and I came in last in our Mixed Doubles race, due largely to the fact that he had no desire to get to the finals (there were enough entrants in that race to have heats and finals) especially as we knew that, while we might make finals, we weren't going to beat some of the other crews out there. In my Women's Open Doubles race, we won and the row felt so good that I think we'd have won even if the only other crew in that race had bothered to show up. (Especially as one of the women in the no-show crew was one I beat last fall.) My last race of the day was against Dr. Bosun. We've rowed against each other enough to know how that goes (she wins) and it was late in the day. I wanted to go home, and she had another race very close to ours, so we mutually decided to scratch and cancel that race.

I think Rudder won two medals on Saturday, probably for the Mixed Quad and men's masters Single. After races we tried to change into dry clothing, but it didn't help. They were making singles and doubles launch at a boat ramp, reserving the dock for the bigger boats, so wet feel were inevitable, because my waterproof socks have begun to leak. It was just not possible to put on dry cothes and keep all layers dry, hard as we tried. And layers there were: I had on fleece socks, "waterproof" socks, rowing shorts, fleece tights, fleece pants, waterproof pants, a tank toip, a long-sleeved Coolmax shirt, an expedition-weight underwear top, my fleece-lined rowing jacket and my Goretext jacket, a hat and mittens. (To race, I wore shorts, fleece tights, waterproof pants, a tank and a long-sleeved top.) There was someone out there taking photos of every race (I'm impressed both at his endurance and the fact that he's even got them all online already) and I think he summed up Saturday very well in this photoof me and Dr. Bosun cheering on one of our crews.

Sunday was better, cold but dry. Rudder had the brilliant idea of wearing our wellies, which I'd totally forgotten about because we hadn't worn them since Antarctica. Pity he didn't think of it a day earlier, but at least on Sunday I had dry feet, even when helping boats to launch. Sunday I was reasonably comfortable with 4-5 layers on top and bottom. Since I didn't have any races Sunday I didn't have to take anything off or get anything wet. Also, the regatta was slated to run only a half day. We got to leave before noon and join a bunch of rowers at a local brew pub. I think Rudder won two more medals Sunday, too - a better experience all around. Still, brr.

training solution

My (very) local training expert, Rudder, has come up with a brilliant solution for me. Or possibly, it's not so much that his plan is brilliant as that I'm an idiot for not thinking of it myself.

I've been contemplating the Winter Olympics. While I don't love them as much as the summer Olympics (no gymnastics, no rowing), I'm still fond of them. I have good memories of vegging out in front of the TV with my Dad when the Olympics were on as far back as '76, with housemates and friends in 1988, and with Rudder more recently, and I watch them as much for those memories as for themselves. The problem was that evenings in front of the TV are not terribly compatible with a workout schedule that requires waking up at 4 or 5 AM on weekdays (going to bed late and just getting less sleep isn't really an option if I want to be at all useful at work the next day; Rudder and I both find that more exercise requires more sleep).

His brilliant solution? Erg at night in front of the Olympics instead. It's not perfect, because erging after eating dinner isn't ideal, but it means I can watch the Olympics until 10 (not later, because of still having to get up for work at 6.) I'll either bag the weight lifting in favor or more erging or do it after work before the Olympics prime time coverage starts. And of course, when not erging I expect to get a good bit of knitting done, in addition to reading during the sports I don't care about.

Yesterday I took my cubemate out in a double - it was her first time rowing a scull (two oars) instead of sweep (one apiece), so for a lot of the row only one of us was rowing, with the other balancing the boat. We did get to row together some, though there were a few nervous moments. It's definite a different though related skill. My back was hurting a little by then end. This morning I did my first real race workout in a very long time: 6x 500 meters at a 2km race pace, with 2 minutes rest between. (I confess I lightened up a little on the last two.) In all the marathon training, I never did anything faster than about a 5K pace, and since I wasn't going for time, I confess I went easy on my estimate of a 5K pace. Either from this morning or from yesterday, I'm definitely moving slower and more stiffly today, but I figure I need to do this in case I cave in to the peer pressure to do a 2K erg race in two weeks.

measurements

No idea if these changes are good or bad - I have a Tanita scale to check bodyfat % but it seems to be very erratic these days.

Oh yes, and:

Holiday Challenge: DONE!!
Thankful for: well, duh.

current
1" below shoulders: 40.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11. 1/8"
Waist: 28.5"
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 22.0"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

Setember 28
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11.0"
Waist: 28" (minor progress, but I'll take it)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.0"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

August 25
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11 1/8"
Waist: 28.5" (drat)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

May 25.
1" below shoulders: 41.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5" (eek)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 15.5"

Boat Parade pics

Here are the pictures from the Boat Parade. And Rudder corrects me: we've (actually he's) won the human-powered division all 5 times.

Construction
Barge Fully Decorated

marathon roundup

I am being brave and trying prepackaged cafeteria sushi. It's cooked stuff (krab) but still, if I don't show up to write tomorrow, you may all blame the sushi.

Slightly later: Bleah. No better than you'd expected cafeteria sushi to be, but with the added bonus of Extreme Wasabi. I have a reasonably high wasabi tolerance, but this stuff was painful, so much so that I actually wiped some of it back off my sushi. (With my finger, which I hope won't be a problem eight hours and several handwashings from now when I remove my contact lenses.)

So, the marathon report. It was a very good weekend, possibly not quite as much fun as last year when we had both an extra day and She-Hulk with us, but very good nonetheless. We had several things go wrong and several right; the former were (ultimately) fixable and the latter pleasant.

First, when I checked into security, they confiscated my rower's wrench. This thing is about six inches long, 1/8" thick aluminum, with an open wrench at one end and hex-shaped holes in it to act as wrenches in other sizes, and is about as innocuous as a small piece of metal can be. Apparently there's a "no tools" rule, though, so security had to take it just in case I figured out how to commit mayhem with it. (Tweak someone's nose, maybe?) Meanwhile, apparently bringing on sharp metal knitting needles is not a problem. The next issue was minor, but annoying. When Rudder and I got on the plane, I realized that I'd forgotten that on last weekend's trip I'd finished out the skein of yarn on the cabled scarf I'm knitting, and hadn't brought any more. Fortunatley, I'd brought the Telecon socks as a backup project, so I did have something to knit on the flight and the drive, but the scarf is intended for a present and so has a deadline, and it was disappointing to miss out on all that knitting time. At least now I know what to do in this weekend's flight to Philly.

We got to the airport in Houston just as the Old Salt and family were getting ready to leave their son Stevie Mo's place to come get us, so didn't have too long to wait (cell phones make complicated trips so much easier). They picked us up, then we went to get his girlfriend, who lives in the Rice Village, which is pretty much the coolest part of Houston. (She's a grad student and bartends at our former favorite pub there, even.) The drive to Louisiana was fairly uneventful. Once we got there, we went straight to the race start, to unload and rig our boats. This is an extremely well-organized event; one aspect of this is that the race organizers, Northwestern State University, have students camping there overnight to make sure the boats are OK. While unloading, I was standing on the van's driver seat, and went I went to get down I slipped, hurtnig my hand as I grabbed the van on the way down. It left swelling and bruising on the fleshy pad below my right thumb, a it worrying with 26 miles to row the next day. When we began to rig, we ran into the next snag, the most serious problem of the trip: in the fuss of packing, the Old Salt had somehow managed to leave the foot stretchers for his double back home. The foot stretchers are the shoes and the assembly that braces them and connects them to the boat, and it is not possible to row without them, because rowing shells have sliding seats, and the feet are the fixed point. We were terrified that after three days of driving, the Old Salt and Dr. Bosun wouldn't be able to race.

We took a two-pronged approach, after much discussion and throwing ourselves on the mercy of the locals and anyone who'd brought a trailer. The Mobile Monet, Dr. Bosun, Stevie Mo and his GF went to a hardware store, where they bought various chunks of wood, tools, nuts, bolts, washers, and anything else they could think of to construct some sort of substitute foot stretcher from scratch, while the Old Salt went with one of the local crew's students to their boathouse to see whether they could find anything to borrow that might fit. During all the talking, Rudder and I had finished rigging our singles, so we rode with the Old Salt and the students. We were in the back of the pickup and it was glorious: rolling through a rural Lousiana sunset on a warm November evening. All we needed were a couple of beers to make it perfection, though of course on the day before a marathon, we wouldn't have been able to drink them on the day if we'd had them. The college crew didn't have any spare doubles that weren't racing, but someone at the boathouse had the brilliant idea of borrowing the stretchers from the bow seats of a couple of their more beat-up old eights, because the boats are narrowest at the bow ends. The students couldn't have been more helpful, and as a result of the Old Salt's appreaciation there will now be a coupole of Arizona Outlaw hats sported in Northern Louisiana. After drilling out the attachment holes to make them into slots and a little work from the fancy new Leatherman tool Stevie Mo had fortuitously brought along, we were able to get the footstretchers to fit well enough to work for the race, a huge relief for everyone.

The next issue was that the PortaJohns didn't show up when they were supposed to before the race. When you're about to spend 3-5 hours in a boat, believe me, you want to empty out a bit first. Thhe truck finally showed up, naturally, right after Dr. Bosun and I had given up and found a couple of bushes.

The race itself was painful, of course, but no more than expected. I tried to pay attention so I'd remember the whole experience, but I mostly remember it in flashes. There are some gorgeous houses along Cane River Lake. The weather was much better than last year, so there were a lot of people sitting out on their porches to watch the race go by; since I was in a single this year it was reassuring to think there were people around in case I'd had any problems. Since I was rowing harder than last year, no pee breaks were required, which of course helped my time a lot. The high point of the race for me was when a men's four from my old club in Texas went by. I yelled "Go, BARC!" and they hollered back over. Their bow rower was in a men's eight that I coxed and Rudder bowed for a few years, so we know him well. As they went by me, he called to his crew, "Let's give Dichroic a hip hip hurrah. Hip, Hip!" The other rowers responded, "Hurrah!" "Hip, Hip!" "Hurrah!" "Hip, Hip!" "Hurrah!"

There were some gusty headwinds that made it impossible for me to maintain the splits I wanted the whole time, though otherwise I wasn't too far off. As the Old Salt said, the most frustrating thing was that just as you'd come around a turn that should have changed the wind into a tailwind, it would die down.
My back and butt hurt afterward, and though I was able to slide out of the boat, I needed help standing. The worst injury was my hands. I think it was because I did a higher percentage of my training on the erg than on the water this year that they weren't as tought as they should have been; there were not only the expected blisters, but also heat and tenderness in the rest of my hand, in areas that don't even touch the oar all that much. Fortunately, the bruise form the day before didn't cause any problems. I put my gloves on at ten km into the race, took them off at 20, put them back on at 30km and kept them on from there out; the gloves themselves cuased a few extra blisters in odd spots, but rowing with them didn't hurt nearly as much as rowing without them. Even so, I rowed the final ten km trying to figure out how to row without touching the oars with my hands. I'd get a hold in a position that was just tolerable, then have to readjust to minimize the pain again after every stop. Final tally: sore butt, sore lower back, sore elbows, hip joints that felt inflamed (better by that evening), about 5 blisters per hand, and glowing red, sensitive palms. Not too bad for five hours in a boat.

I didn't quite make my goal of finishing under 5 hours, and I think the hands were the reason. I had more power in my legs, but just couldn't apply it to the oars. Still, I finished in 5:02, which is pretty close, and it's a full forty minutes faster than in the double last year. Rudder didn't quite break the course record, and the double finished in 4:17 and change, More importantly, Rudder, the Old Salt and Dr. Bosun, and I all won our races! That's four Arizona Outlaws, four gold medals!

Granted, that's because I was the only one in my race, but I'll take it - and after rowing a whole marathon in a single, I feel I earned that medal no matter who was or wasn't there. Plus. I came in ahead of quite a few other boats, not only the eights who started way after me but also some singles who should have started around when I did, so I'm waiting eagerly until results are up to see all the other times.

After the medals ceremony, Rudder and I went to our hotel room to shower and lay down and recover. Having taken the whole course at a much higher speed, he was feeling worse than I was despite having been off the course for two hours longer. After an hour or so, I decided to go for a walk to stratch out. Almost as soon as I left the hotel, I ran into the Old Salt and Dr. Bosun, and walked around with them for a while. We made sure to see the Natchitoches Walk of Fame, then headed home to meet everyone else for dinner. We met a couple of rowers from Los Gatos (a club in San Diego) for dinner at a pub down the street, and enjoyed conversation and beer over po'boys and etouffee. This is a pub the locals hang out at, not just for tourists. The row of them out front as we entered and left made sure we knew it, too. "We like tourists. We hear they taste like chicken!" I answered, "Reassuring that you only know from hearsay!"

The ride back to Houston was OK, and I did manage to finish my second sock (Despite not having the ends woven in, I'm wearing them now, in fact.) Though we got to the airport unreasonably earlyl again, somehow the wait there wasn't quite as excruciating as it was last year, and the flight home wasn't too bad. Fortunately the seats in the van, at the airport and on the plane were cushy enough not to abuse our still-sore butts. I'm enough better by now to be sitting on my usual Swiss Ball/office chair; the joints are all fine, the palms are better, the back is only a little stiff, and the blisters have deflated.

And did I mention I won a medal??

tapering

I didn't realize anything was going on when I noticed I'd gained back a pound or so after thinking I'd lost a couple (and by the way, how do people report such precise weight gains and losses? My body can lose two pounds overnight, and there's also a noticeable monthly cycle - any weight I ever mention is no more than a rough average). I'd normally be on the heavy end of my cycle now anyway. Then this morning, even thoughI'd erged about 6km, I caught myself bounding up the stairs instead of plodding. You know what this means? This means glycogen stores! This means the taper I've been gdoing is working well and I'm storing energy for the day after tomorrow's marathon.

I'm sad that She-Hulk isn't able to go this year. She's prioritizing wisely, babying a back injury so it will heal completely and dealing with family issues, but last year was such a blast that I hate to see anything change, and of course Rudder and I both enjoy her company. I told her yesterday that I'll dedicate a thousand meters in there to her. Maybe I'll make it toward the end of the marathon, so I can make it a fast(er) thousand without having to worry about burning myself out. It probably won't be quite as much fun as last year, anyway, because last year we took an extra day to sightsee in the area, whereas this year we're just going for the race. Still, I'm looking forward both to the marathon itself and to the company on the trip there and back. The weather is predicted to cooperate, and there will be big Gulf shrimp to reward me at dinner after the race. I'm excited!

And I get two weeks off training after this. I'm excited about that too. Then the Philly trip will include getting to reprise JournalCon with a few of my favorite people from there, dinner with an old friend and a chance to see the progress on restoring his hundred-year-old house, getting to see another couple of friends' new house and to meet the new wife of their son (who I babysat as a pre-schooler, and of course a chance to catch up with family and hopefully to rest. I'm still working on a couple of other fun possibilities in the area, too *cough*Baltimore*cough*.

I wost my special widdle boddle, wah

Not that I usually mind a trip to REI, but twice in one week is a little excessive. I went on Monday, bought a dry bag so I can take my cell phone along on the marathon in case of emergencies and a whole slew of other stuff because, well, it's REI and I'm like that. Then I got home and realized I couldn't find my water bottle anywhere. My best guess is that it got overlooked in a pile of stuff on Sunday in Newport.

*pout*. Not that we don't have shitloads of water bottles around the house, but this was my special bottle. My special blue bottle, highly customized. Basically, it's a flexible Nalgene bottle with its top cut off and a mountain-bike top put on instead, in a holster originally designed for another brand of bottle. (I gave up on the original bottle in that holster, after it came open unexpectedly a couple of times.)

It holds more water than a standard bottle, which is important both for normal summer practices and for this weekend's marathon, but isn't as fat as a regular 32-oz bottle. This is important because I have small hands and because when our hands are full carrying a boat, rowers tend to shove our water bottles into the back of our spandex shorts for hands-free carrying. I really don't want a bottle that's so big my shorts will fall down, or one that pulls them out so far my whole butt is on display. The mountain bike lid allows me to drink with one hand, which is important while managing two oars in a tippy boat, and the flip top keeps sand out of the mouthpiece if I drop it on the boach. The holster protects the bottle from punctures, makes it easier to see and grab, provides a belt clip in case I need to hook it on to something, and probably feels better when shoved down shorts as described above.

Or to put it briefly, I am NOT happy about losing this bottle. I was able to buy a new soft bottle at REI today, plus another bottle with a mountain-bike lid I can use on it (Rudder just had a mtn-bike bottle fail aftrer years of use, so the extra bottle won't go to waste. Unfortunately, though, they didn't have the holster. At least it's still available on the website.

What I may do for the marathon, anyway, instead of taking the two separate bottles I'd need, is just to throw in a Camelbak instead. One container, 100 oz, and the tube should make it easy enough to drink from while racing. We are not shy on hydration-related gear in our house.

Fluids in the bottle will consist of diluted Gatorade: not too sweet, but it seems to work better for me than plain water. I will also bring 2-3 Luna bars, energy gel (Gu or similar) and possible Clif Blocks, which are sort of like solidified Gu. Tasty, huh? No worries, though: between the big Creole shrimp with heads on that seem to be common in Natchitoches, and the gumbop they'll serve us after the regatta, I'll make up for it.

getting ready to row really far

I had better not be coming down with a cold. Germs can have their way with me on or after November 26, but they are not allowed to have any effect before.

I'm optimistically choosing to believe that I woke up with sinuses fuller than usual and swollen tonsils because of the change from coast back to desert weather, or a pressure change or something. My tonsils and sinuses do often react that way, so it's more likely than not true.

After work today I'll be meeting the Old Salt, his wife the Mobile Monet (she paints in the car on long trips, as well as while stationary on an easel), and Dr. Bosun to load up our boats. (Rudder will get there late, because he's got a telecon with Japan.) They'll be driving out to Houston; we'll fly there on Friday, meet them and their son who lives there plus his girlfriend, then all ride together the rest of the way to Natchitoches. The Old Salt and Dr. Bosun will be rowing a double in the marathon, while Rudder and I wil be in singles.

A lot of Rudder's and my rowing gear will be going with them, so I don't have to carry it on the plane. I've been making a list to make sure everything I need makes it into either in their van or my suitcase; it worries me a bit that I'm up to 21 items and I haven't even gotten to clothes to wear while not racing, just stuff I need during or just before the race. However, it's not as bad as that sounds. Some items are small, like band-aids and first-aid tape; some are things that hold other things, like the bottles to hold water and Gatorade or the dry bag to hold my phone for emergencies; some are things I may or may not wear depending on the temperature or will take off right before I get in the boat.

We all have goals for our race. Ironically enough, Rudder's and mine are similar; we both hope to beat our time in our respective mixed doubles boats last year. Of course, the specifics are a little different: he and She-Hulk set a course record in their category, while the Old Salt and I were slower than everyone except a few of the canoes and kayaks. Actually, I'm hoping to break 5 hours, and I think I have a good shot at it, but failing that I'd be happy enough to beat last year's 5:42. The Old Salt and Dr. Bosun have been doing a lot more training than he and I did last year, and they're hoping to break 4 hours. It's what the corporate types call a "stretch goal" for them, as is Rudder's, but they should be doable. I cheated a little; my own goal only requires an average split of 3:30, including breaks. I hope to row at a split of 3:00 or not much slower, so as long as I don't take as many breaks as we did last year, I'll be good.

Also, an artifact of yesterday's drive home, coupled with an NPR story on short poetry and something I'd been thinking about a while back:

Hope
Or, The View From My Office Parking Lot

It's always a perfect sky, he said,
It's always a perfect sky.

Where the earth has been ravaged
Where Nature is savaged

Wildflowers plowed under
And trees torn asunder

The land has been paved,
And no beauty is saved,

Look up! to a still-perfect sky.

three down, two (or three?) to go

Well. Three down and either two or three to go. JournalCon was great, as squee'd about here, and even the only part I was a little nervous about, the solo drive to and from San Diego, was enjoyable. (How characteristic is it that I was nervous about two 6 hour solo drives and maybe a touch about finding my way through San Diego, but not much at all about spending a weekend in a hotel partying with near-strangers? Of course, once you've read someone's diary for a few years, they're not really strangers at all.) Last weekend's regatta went better than expected, since dock traffic was light enough that working as Dockmaster didn't tire me out for my race and I missed winning my race only because of another woman's age handicap. This weekend's races weren't quite as good, but I got to practice survival in adversity and Rudder got to win some spousal brownie points.

The weather was perfect for both days' races. At Marina del Rey, the race course actually is through a huge marina, and it's not possible to see more than a tiny bit of the end of the race. Instead of sitting around all day, I asked the race's Dockmaster if he could use a spare pair of hands. That was my big mistake.

He was glad to have the help; launch for that race is from a couple of cconnecting docks. The biggest one is not generally used for rowing, because there's a big supporting post and railing sticking up from the end of it. Normally in launching a racing shell you get in, then use your hands to push yourself down the dock, starting to row only once the oars are clear. On this dock, the railing would be in the way. Maybe this will help:

Direction of motion would be toward the top of the diagram. Anyway, for races they do have to use this dowck, so someone needs to be on it to push boats out and away from the dock so their oars don't get stuck on the way out, and to help pull them in, reaching out if necessary to help pull them in around the pier. It doesn't feel like hard work while you're doing it, but apparently it wears me out far worse than even racing does. It probably didn't help that I didn't drink any water while doing it. I was fine while working and even during the post-race breakfast, but got progressively tireder as we drove to our hotel and unloaded, then more or less collapsed and slept for a while. (I'm not a napper, and usually when I do there's something wrong.) By the time I woke up, I was feeling generally lousy. I tried to eat and drink some of the food we had with us, but it didn't help much. At that point, too, I was driving myself frantic with worrying about all the things ahead: the race, the next much longer race, the week-long stay at my parents. (Not that they're horrible to be with, and I'm looking forward to both the holiday dinner and to seeing friends, including a mini-JournalCon reunion. But a stay in a one-bathroom house is anxiety-provoking when you have IBS and one of the residents of the house has colitis.) I think for me that kind of squirrel-brain worrying that goes around and around and feeds on itself is a symptom and also a contributor to illness or exhaustion. I finally had to tell myself to slow down and stop thinking about it, that of all the things coming up I only had to deal with one at a time.

Rudder likes to eat a lot of protein before race days, so we picked a restaurant and I scraped myself off the bed and out into the car. By the time we got there I still wasn't feeling great. We elected to sit outside since the restaurant was on the beach, but asked to be by a heater because we're from Arizona. Unfortunately the heater smelled of gas and I think that was the last straw. Nothing on the menu sounded good. We discussed our options; I tried to tough it out and just have a salad, but as Rudder and the waitress were discussing the merits of twice-baked potatoes, I felt worse and worse. I asked Rudder to ake me home after all, which he did with no complaint or argument. (That was the point at which he won serious husband points.)

Right after we got back to our hotel, someone from one of our local rowing clubs called to tell us they were going out to dinner, in case we wanted to join them. Rudder decided to go, and I had some pasta with a little olive oil and garlic from the Italian place next to the hotel. I was still feeling off in the morning and was considering scratching my race entry. But I had some motivation to race: I needed to get in a little rowing, preferably at an intense pace but ont too much volume (distance) as part of my taper for next week. Also, I'd ordered a new two-piece uni for the marathon. The maker had messed up the order, but had the fixed version ready to give me at this race. So this would be the perfect time to try it out before wearing it for 26.2 miles next week.

By race time, I did feel a little better so I went out. I began feeling better as I rowed out to the start, a row just a bit less than the race distance. I had no trouble staying at the pace I expect to use next week for the marathon during this warmup. I wouldn't say I was rowing at my hardest race pressure. On the other hand, even at the top of my form I wouldn't have been able to beat the other woman in my race, so it wouldn't have made a difference. Also, I beat my time from the last time I'd rowed this race by over two minutes. Looking at the time of other racers makes it clear that conditions were better and faster overall yeesterday, but not enough to account for that much difference. So while I don't feel great about this race or this weekend, I do feel pretty good. I survived exhaustion and managed to race the next day. Rudder dealt well with me falling apart. I got to test my equipment for next week, I didn't acquire any new blisters, and even while feeling a bit off I had no issues rowing nearly a quarter of next week's distance, half of it near race pressure and all of it at or above marathon pace.

Three things down. Now I have the marathon, the family visit, and possibly a short race in LA a couple of weeks afterward. I can do those.

More rowing and some politics

Drat. I hate when blisters rip off. Actually, this was more of a fossil blister - no fluid inside any more, just an unconnected layer of skin - so the skin under it is healed. But now the remaining flap will harden and want to rip back and back until it hits the part where it's still attached. I'm going to try and see what Neosporin (or equivalent) and a band-aid can do to prevent that.

We're definitely going to Philadelphia Thanksgiving week - I've emailed the dates to some of the people I hope to see there. If you're in the area and I didn't email you, please assume that I'm having a premature moment of senility or that I had an old address for you, not that I don't care to see you, and let me know if you're available.

I've just put my rowing / boat-packing / traveling schedule for this month on my white board, and it's scary. From now to November 25, there is no span greater than 3 days during which I'm not packing or unpacking boats, traveling, or racing (some of the last week of that is traveling around to see friends while we're on the East Coast).

I have one more rowing story from last Saturday's head race thatI'd forgotten to tell, until just now when I included it in an email to a friend. At the regatta, they had Yosemite Sam announcing. (For the first few years of regattas here, he used to be Dockmaster. There was a lot more screaming than when I do it.) The sound system this year was very good, and he could easily be heard from the launching area and even from on the water. It was unfortunate when he claimed that competitive rowing goes back 300 years (more like 2000), but I could have lived with that - after all, maybe he just meant in the (future) US. That would have been OK, but then I got to hear him announcing my race as I came into the finish. Few things are more dispiriting than coming into the last 1000 meters of a 5K race and hearing, "And here's Rudder's wife...."

GRRRRR.

He also told the crowd, "You know, Dichroic's only about 5'1" and 110 pounds, so she's real proof you don't have to be big to row."

Frankly, I could happily deal with having my height and weight announced to the whole freaking crowd (even though he got both wrong), if he'd only started by introducing me with my *name*. I'd have even been fine with it if he'd said, "Here's Dichroic .... you saw her husband Rudder in the last race with the same boat, oar, and uni design..."

GRRRR AGAIN. (I have mentioned this to the race organizers.)

I've been watching the mourning for Rosa Parks with interest. I have mixed feelings about her lying in state in the Capitol. I'm glad that she's been given the deserved honor, but I'm appalled that she's the first woman to receive that honor. (That was unclear, sorry. She is worthy of the honor, but I think it sucks that apparently no other woman has been deemed worthy of such respect.) I think it's an odd decision, considering that until now the Capitol has been so used only for Presidents and high-level political figures, but if this is the start of a new policy in which people who have had a great force for good in this country are paid an attention usually only bestowed by politicos to those in their own game, then that's a good thing. The worst thing about it, though, is that this honor implies that there's no controversy around Rosa Parks, that she is a bloodless icon, the relic of an earlier period in history on which we can now shut the book. Nope, sorry. I'm glad Miss Rosa lived long enough to see how things have changed, but she surely also had a front-seat view on what is left to do. You don't get to pay honor to a legendary fighter unless you're part of continuing her fight, not shoving it into the attic and pretending it's yesterday's history.

I sort of won!

I would say that yesterday's race went swimmingly, but I don't want to give the wrong impression. It went well. I was Dockmaster for the first three hours or so, bullying people in and off the dock to make sure there were no collisions or other problems, then went offshift to rest up before my race. (Last times I was dockmaster was for a local juniors race. Lots of the coxes were novices, I had to help most of them on and off the dock and I was exhausted by the end.) This time the coaches helped out more and there were just fewer entries, so I wasn't too tired. My race was one of the last ones, starting at 11:30. It was a bit hotter than I'd have liked by then, enough so that passing under the bridges was a welcome relief from the sun and so that by the last thousand meters or so I was getting that flushed-face not-unpleasant leaving-my-stomach-behind feeling I do get when working hard in the heat. Still, I was pleased that I was able to keep my speed up and my exertion level reasonably constant. Whenever I was tempted to slack off, instead I'd up my stroke rate while pulling less hard, so that my splits didn't drop.

I did slack off in the last ten strokes or so, for heavage-avoidance purposes, and did in fact have a few small dry heaves just after the end of the race. That's a good place for them. I think it was more about running nose and post-nasal drip than any upset stomach, but it reassures me that I paced myself well and rowed as hard as I was capable of over that distance.

And here's the exciting part: in raw time, I WON!!!!! That is, I finished the race in less time than either of the two women I was racing against. Unfortunately, I didn't win technically: it was a Masters race, with age handicapping. I beat one woman by about 8 seconds, but she is ten years older and had a 40 second handicap on me, so she won the gold medal. (#^%$@ cheapskate regatta only gives medals for first place, no silver or bronze.) The other woman is in her fifties and has about a minute and a half handicap, but I beat her by plenty of time so officially, I came in second. Still: whoo-hoo!!

On the news level of dog-bites-man, Rudder won both of his races, both the Open and Masters singles, so two more medals for his collection. He's one of the fastest rowers on our lake, and his times even beat most of the fours and eights.

Next week's races in Newport and Marina del Rey should give him more challenge. I'll be acing in Newport and am a bit reassured after yesterday; that is, I expected to have my ass handed to me, but I'm reassured that I'll only lose, not lose embarasssingly. Head races aren't too embarassing anyway; rowers start one at a time and race agasint the clock, so only the final times show who won.

squirt

You know that lancing a blister is the right decision when you stick a needle in (low on the side, as recommended) and the fluid inside squirts out. Ow. (For those of you who might be new here, welcome to the world of rowing.) No idea why I got such an ugly blister this morning; granted I was doing intervals, which are harder on the hands, but I didn't get anything like this either during the last two weeks' interval pieces or the half-marathon I did Saturday before last. It's worrying me a bit, since I plan to row tomorrow and race this Saturday.

JournalCon was, for me, the kickoff to the usual hectic fall. Next weekend is the local Hothead Regatta in which I'll be racing a single and acting as dockmistress. The weekend after is the back-to-back regattas in Marina del Rey and Newport. Rudder will be racing in both, but I'm a weenie and will only race in Newport. The weekend after that (are you keeping track here?) is the Marathon Rowing Championships in Natchitoches, LA, which I'll do in a single this year.

After that I'll take off not quite two weeks, then plunge into my fourth or fifth Concept II Holiday Challenge, which entails doing 200,000 meters on the rowing machine from Thanksgiving Day to Christmas Eve. This year it will actually be easy, compared to the mileage I've been doing during the marathon training. It varies every year, according to the number of days between the two holidays, but this year that comes out to 6,666 (!) meters per day. I've been doing 10 or 12 (or 15 or 21) km five days a week, so even if we go to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving (still under consideration) and maybe somewhere else for Christmas (we have lots of use-it-or-lose-it vacation), the distance should be no problem.

some more attempted muscle pics

Pics below the cut tag of me attempting to show off my muscles and also that stuff obscuring them. If you're thinking the definition doesn't look that impressive, well, it doesn't. I'm pretty pleased with the size and firmness of my arms, though.

Can't decide which of these is better - but I like the way my hair came out in the outdoor photo!


Please ignore the face - no one has ever called me "photogenic".

And a bonus picture of Rudder:

My stats: 5'2", 128lbs, 28% bf according to the Tanita (note: both times I've been immersion-weighed, years apart and at different facilities, it's shown a bodyfat percentage 6-7 points below the Tanita). This weight is after rowing a half-marathon this morning, but also after eating and hydrating post-row.

getting easier

Odd. Despite going out with Rudder to drown my sorrows last night (translation: burgers and one beer apiece, yes, we're lame) this morning's training piece went well. Fifteen kilometers and reasonable times on a weekday morning and I didn't even feel awful coming in to work. I'm feeling reasonably confident about the upcoming marathon except for my hands and forearms. I've done most of my training on the erg and the main difference between the erg and the boat is that on the erg, you just pull the handle straight in and let it go straight out, whereas in a boat you have to feather the blades, that is tuen them so they're parallel to the water so they don't catch on the recovery. (This is what the sheep was telling Alice to do in the rowboat scene in Through the Looking Glass. "Catching a crab" when when your oar gets stuck in the water when you didn't mean it to, or gets sucked downward because the blade wasn't quite vertical, and can result in a flip.) I intend to spend the next month correcting this with more water taime. I'll row tomorrow and Friday and do a half-marathon on the water Saturday. I won't be able to row as much the next week because of JournalCon but I'll race locally the week after that and possibly in Newport the weekend after as well.

I hate to say this, but I'm getting to the point where erging is almost fun. My body feels strong and capable while I'm moving up and down the slide, and able to go on for hours. The movies have helped as well: Hidalgo, about a horserace across the Sahara in the 1880s; Without Limits, about Steve Prefontaine, the runner; xXx, with Vin Diesel (or his stuntman?) doing outrageous stunts. This morning was Daredevil, which is a little too conflicted to be an ideal erg movie, but not too bad. We have Catwoman next, then I think I need to go to the video store if I have any more long erg pieces. I may not, since I need to move those to the water and since next week really begins my taper.

Hopefully I'lll only have two more flying sessions, one with my instructor and one more checkride, and then I can concentrate fully on the rowing. That will make things easier.

because when a blogger does something embarassing, she tells everyone about it

This morning I did my first duathlon: rowing and swimming, the latter involuntarily. (Technically, I had "fallen" in once before, but that time I did it in the middle of summer, in broad daylight, specifically to practice getting back into the boat.) It comes to all rowers eventually, usually much earlier in their rowing career - often in their first time or two in a single scull. After fifteen years of rowing during which I always managed to keep the dry side up, today I flipped. Actually, the boat didn't, but I did; in my first thousand meters this morning, I hit a buoy hard (not even a new one but one that's been there as long as the lake has) with my rigger, couldn't hang on to my oars, and went over. The boat stayed right side up, which was a very good thing since I had my flip-flops with me and carrying the boat up barefoot would have been painful.

I had to swim the boat away from the buoy before getting back in or I'd have been trapped. Looked at from overhead a single looks like a plus sign with a short and crooked crosspiece that points in the direction the boat is going. Rowers face backward (which is wy I bumped into the buoy); the boat in the overhead view in the bottom right of this picture would be heading to the left. I had to move the boat and oars far enough from the buoy that I wouldn't just slam back into it. I was able to get in without too much trouble, thanks to that one practice session. My shoes and water bottle stayed in the boat. My seat came off its tracks and went into the water; it floated and I managed to retrieve it without falling in again, but I lost my seat pad and one of my lights. I can get a new light easily enough at a local cycle shop, but the seat pad is rowing specific and the company has gone out of business, so that may be tricky to replace. I carry the boat on top of my head and use the seat to pad my head, so I really need it.

It may be October, and dark now at 5:15 AM, but it's still Phoenix. It was 70 or so this morning, and the water felt warmer than the air, so the ducking was only an inconvenience. (It gets down to freezing here in December at dawn, so falling in two months from now would be far more unpleasant.) After rowing to shore to empty out all the water that had somehow gotten into my boat, I went out for another lap. I'd have liked to do a bit more distance and I had some time, but I came in after that lap because I was getting a little uncomfortable - wet, some of me warm from rowing, some cold. Being warmer after carrying the boat back uphill to the boatyard, I stretched and waited a while for Rudder (having told him I'd fallen in when he rowed past) but finally gave up on him and went to the gym to shower.

Some time standing under hot water followed by coffee when I got to work helped. I'm all right and my boat has only a slight scrape. I've always known this was coming some day and have tried never to be cocky when others have fallen in. (Rudder has, several times, like most people who row singles.) Still, it's the end of an era, and of a fifteen year record.

measurements

Actual progress - a teeny bit, at least. Numbers behind cut. I thought about posting a picture again but it's too dark to take pictures without a flash (not good, when you're taking it in a mirror) and I can't really see much change, anyhow.

current
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11.0"
Waist: 28" (minor progress, but I'll take it)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.0"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

August 25
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11 1/8"
Waist: 28.5" (drat)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

May 25.
1" below shoulders: 41.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5" (eek)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 15.5"

marathon survived

Marathon completed, in 4 hours 13 minutes. That's 7 minutes faster than last year: part of that is because last year, with the erg marathon in our garage, we blew a circuit breaker (we had lights, two TVs, a VCR, and two fans going) and I had to go flip it; partly maybe because this year it was air-conditioned, since we were able to have it at Rudder's work in their big break room; and maybe I'd prepared a little better.

We had seven participants today, plus another two who couldn't make it today but did their marathons earlier in the week. The funny thing is that when I logged it at Concept II, they wouldn't let me post my time in the Rankings section without emailing them first to get a special code, because it was in the top three times logged in my age/weight category (30-39, lightweight) and so they wanted to verify it. This of course is not because I'm fast, but because oly one other person in my category has logged a marathon time at all this year. (For the record, her time was an hour faster than mine.)

workout entry

Monday, 8/22: 15,000m on the erg: 5k at marathon pace, 5k at 10km pace, 5k at half-marathon pace.
Tuesday, 8/23: Supposed to fly, ended up with ground lesson due to crosswind.
Wednesday, 8/24: 10,800m on the water. 1K warmup, 2x 2K at 5K pace, 3K at marathon pace (well, almost 3K, the last time around). No blisters, yay.
Thursday, 8/25: 9000m on the erg: 3k at marathon pace, 3k at 10km pace, 3k at half-marathon pace. Good speed - the half-marathon 3K was faster than the 10K pace one either on Monday or last week.
Friday, 8/26: 12,000m on the erg. 1.5K warmup, 3x 1.5K at 5K pace, 2K at marathon pace.

Saturday: Half marathon, 21097 meters. Third weekend in a row. FOUR minutes faster than the two previous half-marathons, due to both increased speed and NO rest breaks! (I have no intention of doing the marathon either on the water or on the erg without rest stops, but it's still good to increase the time I can go without stopping.

Total 67.9 km for the week.

This morning: 9000m on the erg: 3k at marathon pace, 3k at 10km pace, 3k at half-marathon pace. The bottle of wine we consumed last night really didn't help the workout, but at least I did finish it, at not too bad a pace.

This week is the end of this cycle, so I'm only scheduled to do 50km - there's a light week at the end of each cycle. I will probably only manage 30-40 km, because we're flying (as pilots) to Oregon on Friday, returning Monday, weather permitting.

more training stuff

So far so good on the training. The tricky part now will be to keep going when life interferes without either getting to anal about making a set of arbitrary distances or letting things slide too badly. We're flying to Oregon Labor Day weekend (mostly me doing the flying, because I need the hours more than Rudder does), then there will be a bunch more flying as I finish off the rating in mid-September, then there will probably be a trip to LA for a pair of regattas in late October. I may be racing in one, in a double with She-Hulk. I wasn't this worried about distances in my training last year, but then I was starting out with a much better base. I had been doing some racing and was only just starting the flying lessons. I think I did a reasonable job maintaining my fitness, since I'm on my third week of this and the long pieces aren't feeling too bad, but I'm still slower than I was last year.

I would really like finishing the marathon in less time than we took in the double last year, though not taking 6 pee breaks will definitely help. It would also be nice to finish the erg marathon Rudder has set up at the end of September in less time than last year, but I have less hope of that.

This is all leaving much less time for my knitting, on which if I'm lucky I do one row a day, and for reading, though I've just ordered a new batch from Amazon courtesy of a nice little R&R bonus I received at work yesterday. I do read some of course - I can give up knitting or most other hobbies with no risk to my sanity or even my mood, but that's not true of reading. I think if I gave up all forms of exercise I would get crabby and a little jittery, but wouldn't feel damaged, as I would if books were off limits. At any rate, I'm finding the Pooh books much funnier than I remembered, with little asides and one-liners that generations of adults reading to their children must have stored up for use at work or to friends the next day.

biometric data

What seems to be happening is that the tide of fat is receding from my extremities toward my midsection. Which isn't surprising; my gut is always the first place to store it and the last to lose it. Only problem is, I didn't think I actually had much fat on my calves or upper arms. Either I was wrong or possibly some of this is muscle loss. The body-fat measuring scale remains mum: it hasn't registered any noticeable changes in rane of weight or fat, either way.

Edited to add: I checked with a couple trainers in the gym this morning, when I went there to shower after rowing; they seemed to agree that it was more likely a case of fat loss (and fat does tend to use a LIFO - last-in-first-out - queue) than muscle loss. They did say I still ought to be doing some weights, because trainers never understand about jobs and other timesucks, but conceded that rowing is at least resistance training.

I put the numbers behind the cut tag to spare those who don't care. I think I'll try to do this every month or so.

Current data
1" below shoulders: 41.0
Upper arms, flexed: 11 1/8"
Waist: 28.5" (drat)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 14.5"

Previous data, May 25.
1" below shoulders: 41.5
Upper arms, flexed: 11.5"
Waist: 28.5" (eek)
Hips: 37"
Upper thigh, flexed: 21.5"
Middle of calf, flexed: 15.5"

workout entry

So far, I'm doing OK at combining rowing and IFR training. It's a great life, if you don't weaken.

Monday, 8/15: 9000m on erg: 3K at marathon pace, 3k at 10km pace, 3k at half-marathon pace
Tuesday, 8/16: 7750m on erg: 1K warmup, 2x alternate 1.5K at 5km pace, 2K at marathon pace (was supposed to be 3 sets, but I ran out of time).
Wednesday, 8/17: 11,250m on the water - 4K at marathon pace, 4K at 5km pace, rest at half-marathon pace. Then Wednesday evening, 1200 on the erg to warm up and lifted (a few) weights.
Thursday, 8/18: flew
Friday, 8/19: 8,000 on the erg - 1k warmup, 2x 1.5k at 5km pace, 2K at marathon pace
Saturday, 8/20: Half-marathon. 21097 meters in 120:12. That's about 40 sec faster than the pervious week, but I only stopped twice as opposed to three times the week before. So better on endurance but the actual speed was probably slower.

Monday, 8/22: 15,000 on the erg, and then even survived work. 5k at marathon pace, 5k at 10km pace, 5k at half-marathon pace.
Tuesday, 8/23: Supposed to fly, ended up with ground lesson due to crosswind.

I think I'm set to finish the IFR somewhere around late-mid September, weather, health, skills, and aircraft mechanics permitting.

accomplishments

After erging a half marathon this morning I stretched, showered, logged my meters at Concept II and went to the store, with no rest periods in between any of that. And then I was able (if barely) to lift our largest cooler, containing five bags of ice and two sixpacks of beer (other people are bringing the rest of the beer) out of the bed of my truck, and to get it into the house.

I guess all this exericse crap actually is paying off. Off to eat lunch now - time to replace some of those 1084 calories I burned on the erg.

"Pooh.... WHy that's Me!"

The worst thing about watching cartoons in the morning is being earwormed with their themes for the rest of the day.

I'm doing pretty well with my training otherwise, though. If - no, when - I do my half-marathon tomorrow, I'll have 59 km (PLUS a quickie weight workout!) for the week. The training schedule calls for 60, so I'm pretty much on track. It's periodized: I build up to 65km next week, then down to 40 or so for a "rest" week, then build up again for three weeks, down for one, etc.

I haven't decided whether to join in on Rudder's annual erg marathon at the end of September. I'll definitely participate, but I could opt to do a half-marathon. I did the full marathon last year. It hurt. In fact, it hurt much more than the actual water marathon in November. Of course, I also finished an hour faster.

Tomorrow I get to go fly, then erg, then get ready for a party. Or I could erg Sunday, but then I have to erg again the very next day. On balance, I'd rather be tired during the party. (It's all Rudder's work people, anyway.)

swamp rowing

I went rowing this morning on actual water, more or less. The conditions were beautiful: enough breeze to dry my sweat without ruffling the water, cool enough that I was thinking about my rowing instead of how much I hate overheating. The sky was still dark that I could see stars as I carried my oars down, with the Hunter bringing the first harbinger of Fall.

There was only one problem. If you had seen me, your first thought would probably have been, "How is she rowing on sod?" I mean, really, it's bad when you can hear your boat cutting through the vegetation; at one point I thought I could just get out and walk back to the beach.

It's probably best illustrated by a photo I took of Rudder last Friday:
(More photos here.)

I saw something this morning I'd never seen before: one guy was out in a single, sinking, but slowly, so his boat was under all the vegetation and his body was above. It looked as if he were sitting on the grass. I never did get the whole story about that, but someone in a safety launch was coaching him and got him out before he'd even gotten entirely wet.
Other than that it was a good row, and I even got in more distance than I'd thought I would. 28K for the week so far, and if all goes well, I should just about double that this week. Another half-marathon Saturday, oh joy. The last one took most of the weekend to recover from. This one I can either do Saturday late morning after flying and then have to be lively enough for the get-together we're hosting for RUdder's coworkers that night, or do it Sunday morning after the get-together and hope I'm coherent enough for work Monday. All things considered, including Monday's erg piece, it's probably better to do it Saturday and have Sunday to recover.

workout entry

Because I really should start doing this again. Don't worry, I've been working out 3-4 times per week all along; I'm not going into these kinds of distances cold. I just haven't been recording them here.

Monday, 8/8: 9000m on erg: 3000 at marathon pace, 3000 at 10km pace, 3000 at half-marathon pace
Tuesday, 8/9: 11000 on erg: 1km warmup, 2x 2000 at 5km pace, 3000 at marathon pace
Wednesday, 8/10: 1500 on erg to warm up, including 1x20 at low rate high resistance, then weights.
Thursday, 8/11: flew
Friday, 8/12: 6000m in the single, then met Okie in launch to photograph duckeweed on the lake.
Saturday, 8/13: half-marathon on the erg.
Monday, 8/15: 9000m on erg: 3000 at marathon pace, 3000 at 10km pace, 3000 at half-marathon pace

to train to

Cross posted to Gymrats on LJ - I don't there there's much crossover in readership.

As I close in on finishing my IFR, I've begun to train harder again. We'll see how it goes, but last Monday I began training for the Marathon Rowng Championships in November (despite the name, anyone can enter). I did it last year, but had a better aerobic base by now. Still, I completed a half-marathon this morning on the erg (rowing machine) so I ought to be all right. (One coach I know claims the erg is 20% more effeort than a boat). I'll just be shooting to finish, not going for speed. Right now I'm building a lot of my distance on the erg; it lets me sleep longer (as opposed to driving to the lake, getting my boat out, carrying it down, rowing, carrying it back up, washing it, putting it away, and driving to home or work, whereas I have an erg int he spare bedroom) and it's still pretty hot here. As we get closer to the race, I'll shift more and more to the boat, to work on form over that long a time and to toughen up my hands and seat.

When you're on a machine for that long, two hours in my case, what you watch is important. I can do short pieces watching the news, or 10K pieces watching watever catoons Disney and Nick have on at 5AM. For this longer piece, we had borrowed a copy of the documentary From the Earth to the Moon, and it was perfect. (Caveat: I'm a space geek, of course, but I think it would be good for anyone with an interest in space exploration.) Parts 1 & 2 took me through all but the last 1500 of my 21097 meter piece. The whole thing is 10 hours so it will last for a lot of erg sessions.

So far, we've found that action is good, anything where you have to concentrate is bad, anything very quiet is hard to hear, and comedies aren't great because it's hard to push it while you're laughing. Things that have short exciting or inspiring sections are great because they get you to ramp it up, or you can tell yourself that you won't take a water break until a given space mission makes it back safe, or whatever. Music documentaries can work, if they're about heavy metal so you have music clips for those power 10s. Action movies that aren't too serious, like Lethal Weapon, can work well. The Harry Potter books on audio worked well for me too. Anyone got any other good movies or audiobooks to suggest for training?

doubled reflections

Mechaieh prompts, "things that capture reflections... other than mirrors and eyes". That seems appropriate: I spent part of this morning at a photoshoot (I was photographer, not model). Our lake is now 15-20% covered in duckweed. It's reputedly nontoxic and reputedly harmless to fish, water birds, and the single beaver who live there, but it's annoying to row through. It adds resistance. Worse is the emotional trauma: pity a poor rower pulling her little rowing heart out, only to find that her distance is declining and her split times are going up due to foliage wrapped around the StrokeCoach impeller. Yes, of course I'm exaggerating - but it is annoying not to know accurately how fast you're going compared to other practices.

So this morning, Rudder and I arranged to meet the lake coordinator at sunrise, so that he and I could take a launch out and photograph the layer of green on top of our water and Rudder carving a path through it, in the sunrise light. I had to be careful to include some uncovered water in all shots, so it didn't look like I was just photographing sod. Still, annoying as the duckweed is, it's a pleasant way to spend a morning, riding around on a lake taking pictures of the water, the lake surroundings and sky, and of Rudder with his flag-designed boat, oars and uni lit up by the dawn. Photographing water: double reflections there.

I did row a lap first, which puts me up to about 37 km for the week. I'm supposed to erg 18km soetime this weekend, and may, if feeling either particularly gung-ho or especially fatalistic, turn that into a half marathon instead. Once you've rowed 18 km, you might as well row 21. My weight hasn't gone down, but I think I'm jiggling a little less, and a new mail-ordered pair of pants that were a little tight in the waist a couple of weeks ago were comfortable Wednesday. (Which might also be due to not washing them between wearings. They're in the laundry pile now, so I'll see.)

productive

Since my last regular post here, I have erged a total of 14km, rowed 10km, and passed the IFR written test. Not bad for one weekend. I've also done an unhealthy amount of cramming pretest, begun rereading The Once and Future King (I need to go see if I have a copy of the standalone version of The Sword in the Stone though, because I like it much better than the abbreviated version in TOaFK), knitted a little more of the rowing-rearview-mirror-cozy Rudder requested, helped Rudder a little on the first 1/4 of the installation of our new reverse osmosis system (it's being obnoxious and he's regetting buying it instead of just changing the filters on the old one, even though the old one was having other problems) and had breakfast Saturday with the Old Salt.

He made my day at that breakfast - made my weekend in fact, and possibly my entire month, because almost the first thing he said was, "My God, you're buff! What have you been doing, lifting weights?" So that was nice, especially because he's blunt enough that you know he means what he says, complimentary or not.

I guess I've officially begun training for the November marathon. Last week I put in 30km for the week, for the first time in ages (most weeks last year I did 30-40km), or timesliced another way I've done 39km in the last 7 days. Rudder found a training plan online that has you building up to 80-110 km per week, and today I did my first workout from that. It's been a long time since I've done a real planned workout piece, not just a "go out and row/erg". I can't say I enjoyed the way I felt when I got to my desk this morning, and tomorrow's piece is worse. The thing is, it's a 26-week program, but because we've been rowing all along and because of when the regatta is, we're starting at week 13. Rudder has himself and She-Hulk doing his own plan based on the peridicity of this one, the 100 km version, but with weights added and other fiendish changes, because he's a little twisted that way. I'm on the 80km version, because I haven't been training as hard and because I only want to finish the marathon, not set a record. It's a lot more distance than