Winter Training: Sucking it up now so you can hit the GoFast button later

Last Sunday I went to a great class in Seattle at Flywheel, a cycling studio that my former coxswain and always badass Mary Whipple now teaches at. What’s different about a Flywheel class (versus a standard spin/indoor cycling class) is that competition—if you want it—is there for the taking. You zero in on targeting certain RPMs or power output as you’re cycling along, but a few times throughout the class, everyone’s total work done—listed with a username which can be as anonymous as you want—flashes up on a screen, so you can race others if that’s your thing (yes, that’s my thing.)

The instructor, Aina, a past rower at Trinity College, said a few things during the class that made me think about winter training. Besides “Suck it up!”, which she announced at the start of class was her motto, she also said, “Getting faster is what you do when no one is watching. Getting tougher is what you do when you keep working even when your body says it’s done.” And then: “What is your goal for this practice? For this minute?”

Winter training is about all of those things. There’s a lot more work on land, and maybe only work on land. Land workouts, in general, require a lot more sucking it up. The erg, like the single, is honest and makes you accountable for your speed and power. So does the weight room. That can be harder, but it can also be so much more motivating. Thinking back to high school—sometimes on the water I’d be working on something technical, or pouring everything I had into a piece, and we weren’t clicking as a crew and working together, and there wasn’t any feedback on whether I was getting better or faster. When you're just starting out, that can be pretty frustrating.

The erg, as much sucking it up as it requires sometimes, is by and large a what-you-put-into-it-is-what-you-get-out-of-it tool. You can either look at December, January, and February as three hellish months, and spend each practice feeling sorry for yourself that your team isn’t on the water—or you can show up to each practice, each day with a goal in mind. What goal? Well, that’s up to you. Going faster or being more consistent than the last time you did that workout is a start. Test your limits on what you think your 5K/6K, 2K, and max paces are. Chase down the teammate whose seat you’re after. If you’re the fastest one already, see how much you can widen the gap. Each day you set, pursue with your best effort, and accomplish these little goals, you get closer to your big ones—making the boat you want to make, helping your team build the fitness, strength and mental toughness you’ll need to win together, and getting faster than you ever thought you could be.

Michelle Guerette, one of my first erg inspirations, in our college erg room. Photo: NYTimes.

In a race, you have to be confident in the work you’ve put in, sitting on that starting line. You have to trust your teammates because you’ve seen them push themselves beyond their limits. And you have to trust yourself that you aren’t going to let up for even one stroke, no matter how much your legs or lungs are burning, because you know that you’ve pushed yourself so many times through workouts that hurt even more than this race is going to. In a race, you don’t get to see your teammates pushing themselves, and they can’t see you. You can only feel each other committing and trust that you will go to the absolute bottom of the well for each other to get across that line first.

What motivates me on these dark, freezing mornings or pitch-black evenings when I’m heading down to the boathouse or erg room or the little alcove in the basement where the old rattle-y erg lives is knowing, like the instructor said Sunday, that getting faster and getting tougher is about being your own competitor. It’s knowing that I am working alongside my teammates, even from far away, because we know how hard we are working towards our goals each practice, each day. And it’s about loving to win and to put in the work it takes to do that.

Happy Winter Training,
Esther

HOCR 2013: For the Love of the Charles

If all of American rowing has a Homecoming weekend, it's Head of the Charles here in Boston, Mass., and it's glorious. Every year I wonder if it's just something I'm nostalgic about, but day one is done, and no, it's just as wonderful as I thought it would be.

It's impossible to duck into a coffee shop or even walk 20 feet without running into a former teammate or rowing friend. The whole weekend passes in a blur of new stories and familiar faces, although over the years the evolution has shifted from new significant others or fun summer coaching gigs to babies, jobs, houses, rings, surgeries, family, and everything else. Our worlds have gotten so much bigger, but the rowing world, even as the schedule at the Charles is full to bursting, remains so wonderfully interconnected.

Every year I've been in training, no matter how in or out of shape I am, the trip down the race course remains equally lung- and leg-burningly painful, although it never seems as excruciating after, recollecting a magnificently-made turn or boat passed with teammates. In spite of myself, I'm already looking forward to racing again the following year.

And the great thing about the Charles: it is the epitome of the rowing family. We're packed into our extended (rowing) family's living rooms, sleeping on futons and floors. It's unthinkable to have a meal this weekend that isn't shared with a long-missed friend. Rowers span over seven decades, generations upon generations, and it's impossible to tell who's the most excited to be here. We're a family brought together by love--the love of this crazy sport and everything that comes with it.

I'm racing tomorrow in the Championship Four at 2:39pm--I'll be bow #4, sitting in stroke, and could not be more excited to tear up the course with an awesome crew, coxswain, and everything I've got. If you're not on the banks of the river, watch live racing here. Good luck to everyone racing and GO USA!!!

The Race of My Life!

Photo: row2k.

  What do you say about the race where you won Olympic gold? It was the best race of my career, and we were lucky enough to have that on exactly the right day. I am so thankful I got to share the awesome races we had here with my teammates, and with everyone who came to watch us and who tuned in back home. So many people helped us get across that line, and it was so wonderful to know that we had won for much, much more than just ourselves.

100m to go. Redlining it.  Photo: Peter Mallory.

  I finally had a chance to watch the race for the first time when we got back to the US on the 13th, and everything looks much clearer than it felt. We executed the same strong first 500 that we had in our heat, and when we finally lengthened down to our base rate, we just moved on the field. Just like our heat, it was a little strange to be able to see the entire field, but this time, it didn't feel like a fluke--it felt like we were doing what we came to London to do. There was a strong cross wind that picked up in the middle 1000, but our boat and the rest of the crews handled the sometimes tricky conditions well.

  As we crossed through 750 to go, the roar of the crowd again got louder and louder. Even with the speakers turned to max, only stern pair could hear Mary for the last 500! But our experience and boat feel helped us execute the last 500 exactly as we'd trained to do. Canada made a last-minute push, but it wasn't enough. We kept rowing and rowing and finally...I saw the bubble line passing up near the stern. (No one heard the beep!) We were across the finish line! And WE'D WON THE OLYMPICS!

Can't feel my body, but WOW does this feel great. Photo: Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

  Immediately, I was overcome with emotion. The night before our race, and the morning of, I had thought back over everything I'd been through, and everything our team had been through, to be there, on that start line. A lot of training, sure, but also a lot of sacrifice, dedication, and above all, the support of the people who'd helped us become athletes who could win Olympic gold. Though I was beaming, the tears came, and I let them. Totally spent, I leaned forward and hugged Taylor, and then flopped back onto Susie. My girls. So, so proud of them and of what we had all accomplished together.

The best feeling--this WE won feeling. Photo: Getty Images.

  The rest of the post-race time is a bit of a blur. First to the media dock, where we were finally able to hug each other and share the moment with each other. Lots of interviews, lots of happy crying, lots of smiles. Then back to the boat to row to the medals dock.

Clear eyes, full hearts, strong legs, can't lose.  Photo: Getty Images.

  Wow. This is our Olympic podium. I could see my parents, my boyfriend, my brother, and way, way up in the very last row of the grandstand, yelling her head off, Liz O'Leary, my college coach. Susan punched me: "You HAVE to stop crying. You're ruining everyone's pictures!" We all held hands, waiting for the Dutch and the Canadians to receive their medals. And then: "THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!"

Hey, guys...we did it.  Photo: row2k.

  Such an incredible feeling. Just the nine of us, standing there at the end of a very long journey and a lot of very hard work, getting to share the pure joy of that moment with the world.

Photo: Charlotte Chuter.

...And We're Off!

Final stages of packing (for the OLYMPICS!!!) last night!

  The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of training, media, and packing! We are finally heading out today to London, and I can't wait to get there, train, and finally, finally RACE!

  We have a bit of a planes-trains-automobiles of getting there, but somehow this feels different than the usual traveling. For now, we're bussing it to the airport, heading to Heathrow, then bussing it to the satellite Rowing Olympic Village, then off to get accredited and processed, and then finally back to the Village to get settled in. Whew!

  I am so excited to be traveling with my teammates and heading over to represent the USA with everything we've worked and trained and sacrificed for. All of us are so incredibly excited and ready to race, it's hard to think that we'll still have to wait more than a week to actually get to the starting line! And it's also really cool to see the two- and three-time Olympians on our team as excited as us newbies about this whole experience.

  I'll be updating as we go as best I can, and thank you for sending your support and cheers! Go USA!!!

Henley Sunday: Double the Fun!

Sorry it’s taken me so long to post—Saturday and Sunday of this week were a bit crazy, and I’ve finally just started to feel like we’re settled in here in Lucerne.

The USA ladies of the 8+ and the 4x with the Remenham Challenge Cup (8+) and Princess Grace Challenge Cup (4x)!

Sunday was another adventure at Henley. It started off with a bit of a bang-up during our paddle in the “Tall Quad” (rhymes with “awkward”) in the morning. I didn’t realize that motorboats were allowed to double-park inside the booms, and took off half my rigger during our trip down. Thankfully, aside from my rigger, the rest of the equipment was fine, and everyone was fine as well. After we got in from the row, I found out that unfortunately my teammate Erin Cafaro wasn’t going to be able to race that day. Thankfully, she’s doing much better, and is back in the 8+ for our racing this week in Lucerne.

The aftermath.

I headed down to the course ready for a day of racing and resting. We launched the eight and had a solid warm-up down to the start. After making sure we were aligned and both sitting ready, the official in the launch started us, and we were off! Our race was solid, if not quite as fast out of the blocks as the boat’s race Friday. We pushed towards the end, including a big move where we all pulled for Cafaro. We ended up tying the course record that the eight had set on Friday, which was really exciting to find out afterwards. The British national team definitely pushed us, and I’m sure there will be some good hard US-GB racing here in Lucerne.

Last strokes of the Remenham Cup final!

After our race, I felt like a crappy boatmate, but I was told to go recover and rest while the rest of the boat derigged and prepped the eight for travel to Lucerne. Luckily, the showers at Henley are freezing, and I had packed plenty of snacks, recovery drinks, and water, so I was good to go. About 40 minutes after I finished my cooldown from the 8+ race, my 4x teammates arrived to start warming up for our Princess Grace final! So, it was back to work.

We launched and had a much less eventful row up to the start than our paddle that morning (thankfully!) We were early to the start, and were hanging out waiting to pull into the starting blocks when we started being heckled by some tipsy teenagers on the bank. “Where are you from?” I pulled on my uni so they could see the “USA” down the side. “Oh, USA, huh? Well…row this one for Sarah Palin! I mean, for KFC!” Luckily, before they got to Walmart, it was time to row it up to the start.

Final strokes of the Princess Grace Challenge Cup. Photo courtesy row2k.com.

We had a really solid start, and as we lengthened down, we discovered we were in the middle of the best piece we’d had together as a boat. We executed our race plan and were able to push out, bit by bit, to a little bit of open water. It was really exciting to have our best piece be the final—it’s great to have awesome teammates who thrive under pressure, too!

Me and J.P. Newport/Harvard pride!

We only had a few minutes after the race to meet and be excited about the great race we’d had, because then it was off to get dressed in twenty minutes to get to the Steward’s Enclosure for the awards ceremony! We managed to get in a shower, throw on our dresses and hats, and powerwalk over just in time (there is no running at Henley!) Being in the medal stands were a great experience. I got to catch up briefly with J.P. Hogan, who won in the Harvard 4+, and with whom I’ve trained over breaks at the Newport Aquatic Center for the past few years.

Sir Matthew Pinsent was also our trophy-tender (you don’t leave with the Cup, you leave with a picture of the Cup!) and it was such an honor to meet him. After teasing our quad when we asked for a boat picture with him—“Ah, yes, the women’s quadruple sculls, the event for which I am best known”—he congratulated me and our team on our successes.

Pimms Cups with two of my favorite ladies, Meghan Musnicki and Elle Logan!

After all of the hoopla, I finally got to sit with a few teammates, friends, and parents, and have the obligatory Henley drink, a Pimms cup. Well, I didn’t entirely make it through the Pimms…turns out my stomach wasn’t up much for celebrating after all that racing. But I enjoyed the half a Pimms, and all of Sunday’s racing and Henley adventures, quite a bit. And I’m so proud of Team USA for our success throughout the racing. What a great first trip to Henley!