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On Saturday, the UT rowing club hosted an indoor rowing race on ergometers, the Erg Rodeo. Erg races began as a way to break up the monotony of winter training in parts of the US where rowers are confined indoors for several months. The standard sprint race distance is 2000 meters, so this is the distance adopted for erg races. When I was in college, I volunteered at the C.R.A.S.H.-B. World Indoor Rowing Championships, the premiere event, and even raced, twice. It's a long trip to make just for the sake of an eight-minute(ish) race, so, to sweeten the deal, anyone who finishes within a qualifying time at an official satellite regatta gets a free trip to the CRASH-B's. This year, a 96-year-old guy in Ohio pulled a qualifying time of 12 minutes, and, from the looks of things, he had a pretty good race at the CRASH-B's, too. He's the kind of person I look to as inspiration.
The closest satellite race to us is called S.W.E.A.T., held up in Dallas. Last spring, there weren't enough rowers interested in competing to justify the trip. So this year, instead of trying to cajole people into going to Dallas, the team decided to check out the Erg Rodeo as an alternative, non-qualifying race.
I've been tagging along to a number of the crew practices, and a couple of weeks ago, as the rowers started making plans to go to Erg Rodeo, one asked me if I was going. When I gave her some wimpy, cop-out answer, she gave me a look. So I said, "Okay, all right, all right, I'll sign up."
The races started fairly early Saturday morning, so the team set out for Austin on Friday evening. We had an incredibly romantic team dinner (ha) at a seafood place in Austin, and then sacked out in sleeping bags all over a rower's parents' house.
My race was the third event of the morning, so I was up and at 'em pretty early. It's better that way, in a lot of respects, because then there's less time to think about it all. Waiting for an erg race is like waiting to get a shot at the doctor's office. I only had one other, smaller-statured competitor in my category, so the race was almost entirely mental. Once I finished and got oxygen back to my brain, we had a several-hour wait until the collegiate races. Sitting around in a gymnasium is not the best environment for getting calm, focused intellectual work or reading done, so I wound up hanging out and chatting with the rowers and doing an additional erg workout on the warmup ergs. Soon enough, it was time for their collegiate races, which were fun, fast-paced, and all in rapid succession.
Originally, there was supposed to be a break for awards in between the collegiate races and the following junior (high school) events, but computer issues made the organizers decide to postpone the awards until the very end. Oh boy, more sitting around for everyone. The right environment for brewing up mischief.
Mischief struck in the form of the suggestion of entering the relay race at the end of the Rodeo. Mixed-gender teams of 9 (4 men, 4 women, a coxswain) were supposed to race 8500m total, 1000m per rower, plus an additional 500m for the "coxswain." The Aggie coach-rower started asking around among the team, to see if the team could put together a relay crew. After all, we would have to wait until after the relay for the awards anyway. Enough rowers were game, so then we set out to practice one of the make-or-break parts of erg relay races: the transition onto and off of the erg. After a couple of rounds of quick, put the handle up, loosen the feet, kick up the heels, and spring off, we were ready.
Then the organizers made a good change: 4500m total, so only 500m each. Much more exciting than a 30-minute endurance race. We determined our order, the three other teams got ready, and we were off.
I was to be third in line. We had a reasonable start by our "coxswain," hanging right in with the pack. Five hundred meters feels like forever, but also like the blink of an eye, all at the same time. The first rower hopped off, and the second rower hopped on, but I was concerned that he wouldn't be able to get his feet in tight, so I squatted down to help with the shoes.
Something in my right quadriceps (vastus intermedius) did not appreciate the sudden maneuver. That part of my leg has cramped up on multiple occasions in the past, primarily on long bike rides, but never too severely. This time, it was a full, painful muscle strain. But there was no time to think about it; in a few seconds, it would be my turn to hop on the erg. So on I went, although I think I spent those 60 strokes rowing at half-slide or thereabouts. The first 30 strokes were a frenzy; the second 30 strokes were all about hanging on through the anaerobic oxygen deprivation. Then I was finished, and it was time to rest my leg, cheer my teammates, and figure out how bad the strain was. We won by 2 seconds, beating out a team that only had one female competitor.
I iced my quad on the drive home, and again in the evening and this morning. The hard part is, I can't give it complete rest to heal and recover, because I have to ride my bike to and from campus to check on crickets every day. The acute discomfort finally dissipated this afternoon, and I just have to hope that it will heal despite the continued use.
The closest satellite race to us is called S.W.E.A.T., held up in Dallas. Last spring, there weren't enough rowers interested in competing to justify the trip. So this year, instead of trying to cajole people into going to Dallas, the team decided to check out the Erg Rodeo as an alternative, non-qualifying race.
I've been tagging along to a number of the crew practices, and a couple of weeks ago, as the rowers started making plans to go to Erg Rodeo, one asked me if I was going. When I gave her some wimpy, cop-out answer, she gave me a look. So I said, "Okay, all right, all right, I'll sign up."
The races started fairly early Saturday morning, so the team set out for Austin on Friday evening. We had an incredibly romantic team dinner (ha) at a seafood place in Austin, and then sacked out in sleeping bags all over a rower's parents' house.
My race was the third event of the morning, so I was up and at 'em pretty early. It's better that way, in a lot of respects, because then there's less time to think about it all. Waiting for an erg race is like waiting to get a shot at the doctor's office. I only had one other, smaller-statured competitor in my category, so the race was almost entirely mental. Once I finished and got oxygen back to my brain, we had a several-hour wait until the collegiate races. Sitting around in a gymnasium is not the best environment for getting calm, focused intellectual work or reading done, so I wound up hanging out and chatting with the rowers and doing an additional erg workout on the warmup ergs. Soon enough, it was time for their collegiate races, which were fun, fast-paced, and all in rapid succession.
Originally, there was supposed to be a break for awards in between the collegiate races and the following junior (high school) events, but computer issues made the organizers decide to postpone the awards until the very end. Oh boy, more sitting around for everyone. The right environment for brewing up mischief.
Mischief struck in the form of the suggestion of entering the relay race at the end of the Rodeo. Mixed-gender teams of 9 (4 men, 4 women, a coxswain) were supposed to race 8500m total, 1000m per rower, plus an additional 500m for the "coxswain." The Aggie coach-rower started asking around among the team, to see if the team could put together a relay crew. After all, we would have to wait until after the relay for the awards anyway. Enough rowers were game, so then we set out to practice one of the make-or-break parts of erg relay races: the transition onto and off of the erg. After a couple of rounds of quick, put the handle up, loosen the feet, kick up the heels, and spring off, we were ready.
Then the organizers made a good change: 4500m total, so only 500m each. Much more exciting than a 30-minute endurance race. We determined our order, the three other teams got ready, and we were off.
I was to be third in line. We had a reasonable start by our "coxswain," hanging right in with the pack. Five hundred meters feels like forever, but also like the blink of an eye, all at the same time. The first rower hopped off, and the second rower hopped on, but I was concerned that he wouldn't be able to get his feet in tight, so I squatted down to help with the shoes.
Something in my right quadriceps (vastus intermedius) did not appreciate the sudden maneuver. That part of my leg has cramped up on multiple occasions in the past, primarily on long bike rides, but never too severely. This time, it was a full, painful muscle strain. But there was no time to think about it; in a few seconds, it would be my turn to hop on the erg. So on I went, although I think I spent those 60 strokes rowing at half-slide or thereabouts. The first 30 strokes were a frenzy; the second 30 strokes were all about hanging on through the anaerobic oxygen deprivation. Then I was finished, and it was time to rest my leg, cheer my teammates, and figure out how bad the strain was. We won by 2 seconds, beating out a team that only had one female competitor.
I iced my quad on the drive home, and again in the evening and this morning. The hard part is, I can't give it complete rest to heal and recover, because I have to ride my bike to and from campus to check on crickets every day. The acute discomfort finally dissipated this afternoon, and I just have to hope that it will heal despite the continued use.
