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November 30, 2005

Abducted by Aliens

Or something.

I relinquish whatever daft notion I had of writing posts that were less personal and more magaziney. At least for awhile.

I had a list of things I thought I'd write about, now all stale. Like racing in the Head of the Charles Regatta. I do this every year, pretty much, regardless of fitness level or motivation level. I have missed four since I started, and one was cancelled for foul weather. If I mention my first entry (1979, in the mixed 8, an extinct event), it will give away my advanced age. But relevant, I suppose, as this is the first year I raced in the master's division. For an 8 (which is my boat of choice for this three-mile race, as it gets it over with quickest), the rowers have to average 40 years of age. This was one of those years when motivation was sorely lacking. We had a depressingly mediocre race the previous year in the lightweight category (rowers weight must average 130), and I vowed I wouldn't race again unless I trained more.

Given the broken hand I mentioned earlier somewhere in this blog, plus general sloth, I rowed even less this year than last. But ah, peer pressure. I race with old cronies from back in the day when we were serious, and it is a bit more of a social thing than a performance thing anymore. So I succumbed and entered the race with expectations sagging around my ankles. A good way to go, I think. We added a ringer or two and we have an awesome coxswain, and we did all right. No big droop in the middle of the race, which always sucks in any kind of race. We came in 9th out of 24, respectably in the top of the middle of the pack. Actually, while I'm patting us on the back, only 15 seconds out of the medals, and within 5 percent of the winning time, which guarantees us a spot in next year's event (no need to enter lottery to get in).

Whether that's a good thing remains to be seen.... I will try both to row more next summer and keep my expectations low. You heard it here first, folks. Honestly, aside from a few moments of discomfort, it was a really warm and fuzzy weekend of reunion, hanging out with some very impressive women athletes. Impresive women, period.

So, here it is barely December. I'll see if I can't keep those aliens at bay for the rest of the month.

22:50 Posted in Rowing | Permalink | Email this