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| 'Up two!' (Illustration: B. Kitch) |
What follows is Part Two of Joe Abrams's narrative, documenting his experience racing at the 2012 Masters National Rowing Championships in Worcester, Massachusetts:
The Big Day
The next day, Saturday, we were well rested and on the road early—our first heat was one of the first events that day. To reach our goal of a podium finish at nationals in the “C” event, we’d need to survive not one, but two rounds of heats and a final—three races in a seven hour span, all in high heat and humidity. There were 23 crews entered for the “C” event, twice as many as the “A” event; and the “C” crews would also be much faster than the previous day’s “A”s; and, on average, 10 seconds faster based on the previous year’s “C” times at nationals.
The top three boats from each heat would make it through to a semi-final, and then the top three from each semi would qualify for a 6 boat Final. Complicating our racing strategy was the unpredictable weather forecast, with a 45% chance of lightning—each race might be our last. This meant we couldn’t slack off and cruise into 3rd place just to qualify for a next round: we would have to race each as if it were a final (just like the day before). We also knew that, although our time of 3:33 in the “A” event the day before was not a bad time, we’d need to go sub 3:30 in possibly all three rounds on this day in order to be competitive. There was only one problem with this plan—Marcus and I had never gone below 3:30 without a strong tailwind, and there was no tailwind today.
For the first heat, racing conditions were perfect. An overcast sky had kept temperatures in the low 80s and there was no wind on the course. No need for Marcus to correct our point in bow, just stay focused. As the starter polled the crews, I knew that the two crews beside us could be fast: Lincoln Park (Chicago) and Texas Rowing Club looked big and fit, and both had done well the previous year. I told Marcus to keep an eye on them and counter any moves they might make with our own.
“Attention...Go!” Off the start, we found ourselves trailing within the first 10 strokes to both Lincoln Park and Texas. This wasn’t totally unexpected. We tended to favor smooth starts that emphasized timing versus power in order to conserve energy and then ramp up gradually to race pace.
Approaching 250m after the first 30 strokes, I glanced down at our Speedcoach display and saw 35 strokes per minute (spm) - 1 beat higher than our planned 34. What to do? Though I was initially worried about how it might affect our endurance later on, I decided to let it go. We were moving nicely and closing in on the other boats.
At 500m, we had opened up a half boat length lead on all other boats and by 750m were up by 2 lengths and in control. Do we sprint? “No sprint..!” We crossed the line roughly four seconds ahead of second place, rowing at a controlled and relaxed 32spm. We had gambled that the weather would hold up for at least one more round and had conserved our energy for what would no doubt be an even tougher semi in a few hours’
time.
1 Down, 2 to Go…
As we paddled back in to the docks, we felt very good about our chances in the semis. We hadn’t expected our road to the finals to be this easy. Just two more races to go. We recharged under the Berkeley tent, receiving congratulations from our neighbors when the announcer read the times from our heats over the PA system. To our amazement, although we hadn’t sprinted we had clocked in at a personal best 3:24 time—the second fastest time of all 23 boats. The fastest boat, two seconds faster than us, had just been pushed in a more highly contested heat, in which four boats were in contention for the top three spots. Translated: we just might achieve our goal of medaling at Masters Nationals if we could keep up the speed throughout the day. However, we also knew not to take lightly any of the other qualifying crews, some of whom probably hadn’t revealed their best speed.
In our semi-final race we were assigned Lane 3, and could no longer play the role of the unknown quantity. The wind had picked up, and, by the time we were locked into our stake boat, there was a distinct cross-headwind from port pushing our bow towards Lane 2 to our left. As Marcus began tapping his starboard blade to correct, I looked over at the Potomac/Undine crew to our right in Lane 4—at least one of whom had been a former US National team rowers back in the 80s. They were potential medal contenders today. Next to them was a powerful duo from Atlanta Rowing Club with a 6’7” sculler who had just finished top 10 in the 40+ at the previous Head of the Charles. I turned to Marcus: “I’m gonna take it up a bit higher off the start this time. We can’t let anyone get an early lead on us like last race.” Marcus nodded.
The starter’s flag was up, Marcus stopped tapping. Just then a port-side gust pushed our bow to starboard. “Attention…Go!”
Our first few strokes were quick and strong. The boat jumped forward at the start along with all the other quick boats off the line, and we knew we were right in the mix. But, within 5 strokes we were already drifting—our starboard oars were catching on the wrong side of the lane markers in Lane 2. I shouted to signal to Marcus that we both needed to start tugging harder on starboard side to correct our point. Too late...Our bow had now crossed the lane markers and we were in Lane 2. The referee in the near chase boat sped up behind and flagged us to move back over. Had the crew in Lane 2 been faster off the start when we steered into their lane, we could have been disqualified for interference. Fortunately, we'd had a quicker start that time, and we were allowed to continue.
After a few more hard pulls on starboard, we were back in Lane 3–lucky not to have caught a blade on a lane marker. Having avoided our first major catastrophe, we were again swinging well. I surveyed the field and saw that, despite our early steering gaffe, we were right in the mix...perhaps third place.
At 500m Marcus called out our “squeeze 10," and we pried slowly away from the Atlanta crew. But the guys from Potomac were still hanging in there; so at 750m we started our last 30 stroke sprint sequence up two beats/up two beats/up two beats and surged farther ahead with each 10 stroke burst. Potomac’s stroke looked over as if to say, “we’ll see you in the next round,” and never answered with his own sprint. We crossed the line two seconds ahead in a time of 3:29, which turned out to be the fastest time of either semifinal heat. Considering the headwind and our poor steering, we were very pleased with this effort and one step closer to realizing our goal.
The Final
Back to our LaFuma lawn chairs, Gatorade and protein bars. The weather was holding up after all, so we knew there would be a third race, the final, in less than two hours. Try to rest…
