Blog de Puree

This week marked a milestone for me because I was able to start rowing. It was the first time in many years since I’ve been on the water. So I started slowly.

After tying myself into the boat, which is basically fastening the velcro to the sneakers on the foot stretchers (where the feet go), and ensuring the oar locks were secure so that my oars wouldn’t fall out during the row, I pushed away from the dock.

Once away from the dock, I took about 20 or 30 strokes to warm up and get a feel for where I was skill-wise. Did I lose my sense of balance? Was my stroke all wonky? How was the catch (when the oar enters the water at the beginning of the stroke)? Was I able to get the oar blades out of the water quickly at the end of the drive?

I was pretty impressed, actually. My rowing wasn’t abysmal. I was just a bit rusty.
On Tuesday, I went up river for about 20 minutes, doing numerous drills to isolate and perfect certain parts of the stroke cycle and improve balance. On my way back, I decided to row at 75% for 1,000 meters to get a sense of my fitness. It was pretty sad. I was sucking wind.

On Friday, I got out again and proceeded with more drills up river. I was feeling more confident at this point, so I went farther up river. It was an early morning row, so many members of the club were also out. On the way back, two singles and a double started coming my way, so I decided to see if I could hold them off until at least making the dock. Slowly, they made up the distance, but I was able to remain ahead.

All told, a good week on the water. I have redescovered all my old weak areas. Now I need to get out more often to train and be competitive during the head race season this fall. But some members have already asked me if I’m going to race in any of the sprint races later this summer, but that’s still up for debate.

My hands are also starting to show the signs of a rower. Blisters have developed on my fingers and palms. Callouses are starting to form. And soon I’ll have the grisled hands of a real rower. Chewed up, calloused hand-feet. Many rowers will swear by wearing gloves, but I’m a minimalist in that sense and I feel I don’t have as good a feel on the oars as I do when bare-handed. And not to mention, gloves are for sissies!