Take Me Home [this morning]

Another day, another 5:45am bus ride to the Norwalk River. In most respects it was a typical practice. We get out of the heated van and into the tent, where we must remove our sweatpants and any other loose clothing. Some people take a jog around the condominiums nearby, as if that’s going to do anything. As usual the coxswain shouts her commands: Hands on! Out on 2! One, two! Watch the riggers! Way enough! There is the usual rush to lock the oars in, take our shoes or boots off and throw them in a box, then get in the boat and ‘push off’ before the next boat comes down to the dock.

Today was the coldest day it’s been since before spring break, not to mention that we turned the clocks an hour forward last week, and therefore the sun comes up an hour later than before. As we rowed through the channel we saw shards of ice floating along. As we exited the channel we were accompanied by several fishing boats, who despite their kindness in not running straight into us, inadvertently created waves that made ‘setting the boat’ a difficult task. The fortunate thing about being in the boat as opposed  to one of the observers with the coach in the launch is the warmth from actually doing something. Those in the launch spend the entire time shivering, while the rowers themselves really only get their hands cold. And they do get very cold, especially since you are supposed to grip the oar at all times. I like to play the “Does John still have the capability of moving his fingers and toes” game with myself whenever I get a pause, and on a day like today it was always questionable.

When we finally got out of the water (a bit early fortunately, since our coach was ready to get out of the water and into the van, despite his warm coat and not-so-warm coffee), there was ice all over the bottom of the boat and on the oars. No point in washing off the boat with the hose…that’s frozen as well. Back to the van. Naturally the radio is usually on the whole ride, so we were serenaded by Eddie Money as we pulled into Fairfield. It’s bizarre how trying to fight through cold at the beginning of the day makes me vulnerable to it for the rest of the day. Usually I’m fine in winter temperatures, but not anymore. I’m still shivering.

One of the guys really wanted a sunrise picture. This was around 7:15am, and we were still moving South away from the channel at this point. I’m 4-seat, so I’m 4th from the right in this picture.

No Longer Fluff

Today was my first Regatta, or rowing competition. The men’s and women’s teams drove to New Jersey for the 15th Annual Jesuit Invitational at Cooper River, New Jersey, to race against St. Joseph’s, Georgetown, Canisius, and Loyola.

Yesterday during our afternoon practice, we spent about an hour and a half de-rigging the boats, which is a lengthy process. We had to remove the riggers from the boats and secure them in a trailer, then load the oars in, and finally put the boats in. Then this morning we got on the bus for a 3 hour drive.

We spent around 7 hours driving so that we could compete for around 7 minutes (or 8 minutes for those of us who are rather slow, and spoiler alert we are still a bit slow). It was cold outside, and it snowed on and off (mostly on) all day, both in New Jersey and in Connecticut. We set up a tent and tables, on which there was our breakfast and lunch, largely provided by generous parents.

The men’s team had 3 boats: Varsity 8, Freshman 8 (or “Novice 8” since it technically includes new rowers who are not necessarily freshmen), and Second Varsity 8 (aka JV). I was in the JV boat, which rowed soon after the Freshman race. But once we were on the dock and preparing to warm up, 2 of the freshmen who were planning on rowing a second time (who coincidentally happen to be the 2 freshman recruits) were injured after their race and didn’t want to risk hurting themselves further. So we found 2 volunteers and got ready.

So we got to the starting line, and once the 4 boats were “in alignment,” we took off. Our coxswain shouted encouragement at us, as well as reminders such as “don’t rush the recovery” and “stay together.” Everyone made some mistakes but we managed to cross the finish line after about 8 minutes and 20 seconds if I remember correctly. We came in last in each of the 3 races, but there is hope for the future as everyone continues to get stronger.

After the races were done we had to put everything away; the boats, the riggers, the tent, the food, etc. Then we drove to Norwalk were we had to put everything back on and back in place for practice on Monday (remember, it’s been snowing the whole time). The older coach really wanted to get things done quickly and efficiently apparently, and was forcefully (yet benevolently) directing everything. At one point someone tried to toss the hose to someone else, for washing a boat down. As you can imagine, it turned on once it hit the ground and started spraying water at all the shivering rowers within its range. Immediately, the coach lunged for the hose and started spraying the inside of the boat. It was like watching a soldier run for a grenade to protect his comrades. From some stories I’ve heard from some of the veterans, this coach has a history of taking matters into his own hands at regattas when things aren’t running smoothly. And when he’s involved, smoothly they run. Also following his girls’ boats while on roller skates, although I didn’t get to witness that today.

Before we got on the bus back to Connecticut, the head coach spoke to all of us and said that often times there are a lot of rowing hopefuls who start in the fall, unaware of the suffering that awaits them in winter training. This is why he calls fall the “fluffy semester.” But now all the new rowers who have stuck around until the first race are “no longer fluff.” Therefore, each of us received hats.

Spring Break 2013

The Fairfield rowing teams stay on campus for spring break. We have one practice in the morning, and one in the afternoon. If you add up the time it takes for us to drive to the Norwalk River, establish boats, carry boats and oars onto the water, get into the boats, row, then get back to the dock, wash the boats, put everything away, and then get back to campus, it all takes about 3 hours. Last Monday was my first day on the water, so I had to learn the basics of actual rowing, as opposed to the erging I’d been doing the previous 6 weeks. Actual rowing involves a few extra skills, including feathering; the process of turning the oar while swinging it back in order to minimize wind resistance. It also involves not dying from the cold at 6:20am, something for which I wasn’t adequately prepared, and spent the whole practice shivering. This week I am more prepared, with 3 layers on top, wool socks (thanks Aunt Sheila & Uncle Cliff!), and newly acquired long spandex.

Another new element for me is the role of the coxswains, who during winter training don’t really have much of a role other than comment on our form, and fold our sweaty shirts for us after we throw them on the floor before we start erging. On the boats the coxswain speaks into a microphone, which then transmits his/her voice through speakers pointed up at each rower. The coxswain is responsible for telling everyone what to do, whether that be telling us to add pressure in order to direct the boat, telling us to row faster/slower, or commenting on how well we work together tell us to stop splashing the water at her.

Today I was in an 8-seat with some of the women’s team, who were doing a workout to improve form. They were with the oldest of the 4 coaches, who has been rowing for 40 years. He can sometimes give the impression that he’s upset or yelling, but it just takes some getting used-to.

Putting the boats away and removing them is sometimes a painful process, since extreme care must be taken in order not to hit anything. Of course this happens anyway, when communication is not 100%. Rowing is an odd mix of individualism and teamwork. We get in shape as individuals but get better technique as a cohesive unit. Being a runner, all this “technique” stuff is placing a lot of pressure on my brain, but I think that it is simple once learned, and it’s all about the power in the legs once you can work with the other men in your boat.

The men’s team is all eating together in one of the townhouses, since the dining hall is closed this week. We’ve been varying the food slightly in the mornings, and for dinner it’s going to always be the same: chicken parm, ziti, and salad.

It’s funny how when you’re rowing, you’re never quite focused on the various things passing you by. Bridges, sand, basketball courts, docks, seagulls, islands, summer homes, flags, trees, and signs advertising penguins (I didn’t notice that until an injured guy pointed it out to me) all merge into the background, and all you can focus on is soreness, the buttery-smoothness of the oar in the water, and the deadly blinding sunlight refracting off the water.

Cities…

As a part of being in Junior Art Seminar (and I guess you could also call it Art Capstone Part I) I am encouraged to attend artist’s lectures. Last Monday I went to hear a talk at the Quick Center by Audrey Flack, a Jewish abstract impressionist painter. Before she came onstage we watched this video of her band playing. She talked about how her paintings received poor reviews, one comment having been called (and I quote) “The ugliest painting of the year” before being called the “worst painting of the decade.” As you might imagine, the story progressed into a heartwarming tale about how she made more money selling her paintings. She is currently 82. It was also interesting to hear her refer to her own work as “a masterpiece”, though she did so in a way which did not come across as extraordinarily conceited, at least to me. Afterward, the famous Dr. Eliasoph, or “Dr. E”, the head of the Art History department, had a quick Q & A with her, during which he named several artists and wanted to hear her reactions to each of them. Thanks to my education at Marchutz (and I should mention that Leo Marchutz was also a 20th century Jewish painter)  I had some knowledge about some of those artists.

On Thursday I went to see another artist-speaker, though this time it was in an art room along with an art class which was required to go. The artist, Nathan Carter, is a friend of one of the professors. The theme of this semester is cities apparently, which of  course goes in line with the field trip we had about 6 weeks ago. A lot of his work explores the idea of what passes through the airwaves whenever someone sends a text message or sends out a radio signal. He told us that he’s very motivated by sounds, and that he likes to listen to loud music when he works. I got a bit too excited when he showed a slide with a Slayer logo, but then he played some NY-centric hip-hop while we viewed some of his work and I decided that he probably listens to just about everything.

Despite the fact that my art class and I are headed to NY on the 23rd, there was an exhibit that ended yesterday, and my professor had shown it to me specifically, since she thought it related to what I’m doing. So on Friday I went down to the Marian Goodman Gallery to see it, and spent about 45 minutes looking at it, and doing some sketches (another useful habit I picked up from the Masters of Marchutz). The series, called Fatigues, by English-born artist Tacita Dean, is made up of large boards painted black, then drawn-on with chalk. There were 2 rooms, and each room had 3 drawings (or rather, sets of connected boards). Each middle drawing (or set) had 6 boards, and the other 4 had 3.

After accidentally getting off at the wrong stop (Fairfield Metro instead of Fairfield) I returned to campus and got to bed early, and awoke early the next morning for Spring “Break”…

Blizzard of ’13

Here are some pictures of FU’s version of the snowstorm that happened a while ago.