Step back in time
One thing that always takes me back is watching old rowing videos of myself or just of random regattas. I especially like watching videos that were taken at races and race venues that I personally have rowed or coxed at. Two of my favorite have to be Lake Natoma in Sacramento and the Cut up in Seattle near UW.
I recently watched a highlight reel of the 2010 Windermere Cup races at UW and I remember my sophomore year in only my 2nd or 3rd race as a coxswain, going to Opening Day and racing. It was my second time racing in the Cut - the first was my freshmen year in the JV8 at Head of the Lake - and I remember how crowded the finish line was, how busy the docks were and I think to myself, "How did I manage to do that?"
This is a question that I've often asked myself when sending out my own crews now that I've switched sides of the megaphone. When I watch these young athletes, many 6 to 8 years younger than I am now, I wonder what must be going through their minds, if they're nervous or excited or just plain scared. And then I think back to when I was in their shoes and wonder what my coaches thought when I launched. I try and recall how I felt the first time I backed into the stake boats at WIRAs or what I thought while sitting out in Union Bay just off of Lake Washington watching boats go by, prepping to go through the narrow slit that is the Cut.
The more I think about it, the more I don't remember every really feeling like the "deer in the headlight." I do remember being a little nervous the first time I had to cox at Lake Natoma. We'd never used stake boats or practiced with stake boats and the lanes seemed so close and the gaps to turn in incredibly narrow. I think I was too excited at Opening Day to really know what I was doing and I know that race I was more interested in figuring out why there was a puddle of water at my feet that was growing steadily - the previous crew had dropped the boat on the dock and sent the skeg through the bottom of the boat but hadn't bothered to inform us.
Now, standing on the shoreline launching my crews I put myself into the shoes of my coxswains and wonder if I'd be able to still do they're about to do. I suppose it's a skill set that is like riding a bike; it's hard to forget and I suppose that with practice I'd be able to do it all again. But that doesn't stop me from marveling at their and any coxswains ability to do things that seem near impossible or overwhelming.
I recently watched a highlight reel of the 2010 Windermere Cup races at UW and I remember my sophomore year in only my 2nd or 3rd race as a coxswain, going to Opening Day and racing. It was my second time racing in the Cut - the first was my freshmen year in the JV8 at Head of the Lake - and I remember how crowded the finish line was, how busy the docks were and I think to myself, "How did I manage to do that?"
This is a question that I've often asked myself when sending out my own crews now that I've switched sides of the megaphone. When I watch these young athletes, many 6 to 8 years younger than I am now, I wonder what must be going through their minds, if they're nervous or excited or just plain scared. And then I think back to when I was in their shoes and wonder what my coaches thought when I launched. I try and recall how I felt the first time I backed into the stake boats at WIRAs or what I thought while sitting out in Union Bay just off of Lake Washington watching boats go by, prepping to go through the narrow slit that is the Cut.
The more I think about it, the more I don't remember every really feeling like the "deer in the headlight." I do remember being a little nervous the first time I had to cox at Lake Natoma. We'd never used stake boats or practiced with stake boats and the lanes seemed so close and the gaps to turn in incredibly narrow. I think I was too excited at Opening Day to really know what I was doing and I know that race I was more interested in figuring out why there was a puddle of water at my feet that was growing steadily - the previous crew had dropped the boat on the dock and sent the skeg through the bottom of the boat but hadn't bothered to inform us.
Now, standing on the shoreline launching my crews I put myself into the shoes of my coxswains and wonder if I'd be able to still do they're about to do. I suppose it's a skill set that is like riding a bike; it's hard to forget and I suppose that with practice I'd be able to do it all again. But that doesn't stop me from marveling at their and any coxswains ability to do things that seem near impossible or overwhelming.
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