Rowing, Riding, Exercise, Health

Getting ready to ride in the Paris-Brest-Paris is kind of heartbreaking for me right now. I have been thinking back to what it was like to get ready to ride in the Seattle-to-Portland, my very first century ride (and first double-century). That was back when I was first learning all about road-riding. I spent most of that time riding with my friends M and K, who introduced me to bicycling etiquette and were incredibly encouraging and patient, waiting at the tops of hills when I couldn't keep up on my mountain bike. They took me out to South Mountain and introduced me to the tower climb, and each week in advance of the STP we would ride just a little further. We were pretty deliberate and consistent about preparing, and those preparatory rides were just as much fun as the actual STP. The most striking thing about riding with M and K is how carefully we would all pay attention to what goes on behind us when we were in front. The group dynamics and clear communication were just as important - if not more important - as how fast we went.

Trying to get ready for PBP feels like pulling teeth. I am trying to get in long rides when I can, with my fellow riders R and S, but the social aspect just doesn't have the same dynamic. Rides with other people always seem to carry with them an element of strife - constant resentment over something or another. Either I am going ahead too fast, or falling behind and nobody is noticing. I cannot mentally convince myself that it is ever worthwhile to sprint to catch up if I'm behind, because that just wears me out and sets me up for falling even further behind. What I *am* becoming convinced of is of this importance of group dynamics and working together to figure out how to be on the same page. I want to do things deliberately. I do not want to do things in a reactionary fashion, or at the last minute (Quick! Get in another bike ride!). Outbursts really, really wear me out and don't seem to help me change my behavior or attitude. Leadership ambiguities wear me out, too. All of those things feel like a setup for failure. Preparing for something new, a challenge, should be a rewarding experience in and of itself. If I thought I could ride my bicycle 750 miles in under 90 hours without advance preparation, I wouldn't be so interested in doing it.

The best rowing experiences that I have had have paid attention to an critical aspect of the sport - mental preparation. I really valued the coaches that took time during every single practice to work with us on it. This involved checking in with all of the rowers in the boat to make sure that our goals were aligned and make sure that everybody realized that we had to work together to accomplish our individual and group goals. You might think it's a straightforward matter to take a group of 9 people who are all individual super-stars, put them in a boat, and have them go really fast. But that doesn't always happen. In fact, I think it rarely happens. Those 9 people just as often tear each other to pieces, if they are unable to work with each other, balance each other out. What's way cooler, actually, is when a group of ordinary people get into a boat and figure out how to turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. In high school, we had a lightweight crew like that - put the rowers on rowing machines, and you'd hardly be impressed. But they would kick butt in the boat, and they clearly enjoyed how that felt. A couple of my college 4+ races were like that, too. Fun.

This is a part of the joy of rowing. In a good race, my individual thoughts and feelings are sublimated by the feeling of the boat as a collective. Moving together is rewarding and contributes to the sensation of flying. I honestly don't care about whether I come in first, second, or last, just about whether I have gone faster and more smoothly than ever before, and whether going fast feels fun.

I have a much, much harder time racing in the single (or on the erg), where the start of the race causes my internal monologue to ramp up, and doubts creep in. I think that's also why I've never been that attracted to racing on bicycles, either [silly races excepted]. Perhaps in a larger group of riders it's possible to get the same sense of encouragement, where everyone is able to contribute to moving the group as a whole. But I suspect that, for that to be possible, the whole group has to sit down, with a coach, and have an open, frank discussion about the group's goals. The group has to practice, *as a group*. Not as a bunch of individuals doing the same thing. It's that mental preparation thing, again. Evaluations of goals have to happen during practice, before an event, and after an event.

The coach thing is also often an overlooked element. If one rows for long enough, one should encounter the phrase, "No coaching in the boat!" And one should stick to it, despite all temptations and invitations to do otherwise. Every single time I've encountered coaching in the boat, it has soured the rowing experience. This is because the people in the boat don't have the correct perspective on what is happening in the boat. If I am focusing on what the other rowers are doing, I am neglecting to pay attention to myself.

I suppose that it's possible to be healthy and exercise without ever dealing with these matters. But I have found that, personally, the social dynamics are just as important to me and can be just as rewarding as the actual act of moving fast.

Anyway. I don't want to just give up on the idea of completing the PBP. I want to do it to feel what it's like to put every ounce of myself into the effort of moving across a vast and interesting landscape. I want to enjoy the experience, not feel like it's a suffer-fest, or feel resentment about it. I don't want to feel chained to my bicycle, I want to feel like I can use it to move. I want to feel the sense of accomplishment that one can get from doing good work.