laaaaaah
yesterday: instead of rowing, we sat down on the ergs. Stuart came back, which was cool, and a totally schadenfreudiac way of welcoming him back. Cuz we did... 1000m pieces.
1000m is balls to the wall on every stroke. You hurt by the first hundred meters, and then you've got 900 more to go. It takes a guy about three and a half minutes; most of our girls are at or under four. I sat next to Jamie on the first piece; every stroke I took was for Eve's seat, for the A boat, for last Saturday, for lightweight, for beating whatever's still residing in my lungs. My split was 0.2 seconds slower than Jamie's (making it 0.4sec slower total), which I can deal with. I also weigh about 7lbs less than she does, so pulling a split right next to hers counts in my favor.
The guys did their second piece, I took some albuterol (leftover from the respiratory badness) because I was finding it hard to breathe, and then we sat down to do our pieces.
With about 600 meters to go, I started feeling uncontrollably nauseated, to the point that I couldn't just power through it. And then when I slowed down, I started hyperventilating. At 554 meters, I stopped completely and Ellen came over to make sure I was okay. Hyperventilation, by the way, is not fun. I feel like part of it was legit, and part of it may have been psyching myself out. I pulled a 1:57.somethin' on the first piece, which was awesome, and I was still holding onto 2min on the second, but after having spent a few weeks in self-preservation mode, I just freaked out at the first (okay, second or twelfth) sign of distress. Also, I think the albuterol may have contributed. It acts like adrenaline, and maybe my lungs really didn't need it this time, so having it sent them super-active.
I felt like shit about it, and Ellen knows because I told her at least three separate times. She said she'd rather I stop than go to the hospital with an asthma attack.
Then we did a three-mile "cooldown" and "stretch out" run on last year's timed-run course. This time was better; because we weren't timed, I took it at a good rate, and managed to stay within sight of Maria, Becky, and Sara B, and I hung back with Talia. It reminds me of a story...
In elementary school, we all had to take these fitness tests that included timed situps, pull-ups, and a timed mile run. I knew I wouldn't be taking that mile at a run the whole way, so I think I pretty much walked it. Then, for the last fifth of a mile, a lady with her stroller told me she'd jog to the end with me. Through that eternity of pain (I was a fat kid with no respiratory power whatsoever!), she kept with me, kept encouraging me, and made me finish the run at a jog.
After I collapsed and finished catching my breath, I think I thanked her.
So anyway, I felt like I could be that lady for Talia, and whenever she got too far behind I'd start jogging backwards and encourage her to catch up. She went the last half-mile straight, for sure, from the bridge back to the boathouse. At the end we pretended we were elite runners and kicked it up. It felt good despite the cramping and jellylegs from the pieces. It felt good to run the entire thing with confidence. And the strangest three songs were going through my head: first, what I know in Latin of Adeste Fideles (mostly the last line of text); then Fantasies Come True from Avenue Q; finally, Tom Lehrer's Masochism Tango.
efg says for that, I win the award. What award he's not sure, but I win the award.
THIS morning. Longer warmup run, nasty shin splints, wall sits for jumpies. However, I was in the "A" (I put that in quotes 'cause it was the only women's four out, though it was four v. strong girls) boat: starboard-rigged Mai Resa with Lily, Sarah, me, Maria and Jamie. First off, we had a mess of problems with the foot stretchers involving taking my stretchers off entirely to try and adjust the position... badness. Once we got going, it was steady state down, and right before Northeastern Ellen told us to weigh enough and look at the sunrise. All rowers' eyes turned to take in the most gorgeous smear of pinks and oranges spread across a sky of pointillated foam, and I said the bracha for sunrises.
Then we picked it back up, spun, and ellen told the fours we'd be leapfrogging back.
Except the guys' boat stayed ahead and didn't let us pass the ENTIRE time.
The point of the leapfrog drill is to practice passing on boats. It's not to practice holding them off. Boat A goes faster, passes boat B entirely, and slows the rate. Boat B picks up the rate, passes boat A, slows down. Boat A picks up the rate... et cetera.
Mike didn't get that. He didn't tell them to slow down and he kept it at too high a rating and he was having them take tens to keep us off. We were at full pressure for ten full minutes. Steady state is supposed to be 75-80% pressure, and we poured it out to pass them for ten minutes to no avail.
Do not tell me it's just because they're that much faster. The four of us are fast and were having a good row, power- and set-wise. If the boys really were doing it at steady state, then they needed to SLOW DOWN to let us pass. Leapfrog doesn't work if someone leaps and then doesn't crouch down.
Ellen was busy with the eight. Lily was frumious. Mike was chastised.
Anyway, even if the row wasn't so good, the rowing, I thought, was. I've had much worse, is all I'm sayin'.
Oh, and the blood blister I worked up on Saturday popped while we were at full pressure. Sortof a disappointment: it's my first blood blister ever and I don't even have the satisfaction of watching it pop (is there actually blood that comes out?). Also annoying because it's on my right ring finger, which was already my biggest callus. I just had to hold the oar so much harder on Sat because it was so wet and windy. GAH.
Also, thankfully, after the morning pieces yesterday Ellen switched the second workouts. This means that today's workout is the bitch, but I have the rest of the day to sleep -- AND this week I get a morning off (though it's still a workout on my own) besides Friday. It happens to be tomorrow. This is totally exciting, because it means I can stay up late(r) seeing Flogging Molly tonight. (zomg!)
Last night efg and I used that Indian-food coupon and then saw Little Miss Sunshine, which he's been wanting to see for a good long while and I said I'd see again with him.
It's such a cute movie. Abigail Breslin is adorable. I love the actors who played Grandpa, Frank, and Dwayne (not to mention their characters). And as is always the case with efg, there were good times all 'round, and some raucous Da Vinci's Notebook singing in the kitchen, even branching into a three-part My Girl with hill_the_khore. Defining moment of that part of the evening would be when we were all diddling with the harmonies and I said, "Let's sing this in the right key." Immediately efg and I belt out C major... because perfect pitch pwns. And after he finished his tea, he went home. Next time, Guatemalan food? How about Taco Night? (Kidding.)
I suppose yesterday was quite the eventful day. I also had the ling8b midterm. The only piece I didn't pwn was the differentiation between inflectional and derivational affixes, dammit. After that I read Golden Compass on the lawn outside Schwartz and took a 25-minute nap on the grass and pine needles. Then I went to do the steady state, came home and showered, and forced septicidal to go shopping. I am concerned for my roommate when she becomes nocturnal, loses ten pounds in as many days, has been feeling sick for three weeks, can't go to work for two weeks, and has been complaining that she's out of food for at least the past week. Despite her being too tired to go (which really I think was because she hadn't had any food to give her energy for the past way-long time), I forcefully voiced my concerns and then dragged her bumbum to Hannaford for a quick stock-up and still managed to get back before efg arrived to pick me up. Because I am That Good.
speaking of stock-up, SOMEBODY tell me s/he's going to the farmers' market this weekend! If not I'll die. I need my heirloom tomatoes! I want a rosemary plant! The gala apples, oh-so-sweet, oh-so-tasty, they sit in bins unclaimed by me! I will give whomever goes a list and more than enough money, the change of which they may keep in exchange for the favor rendered.
....pleeeeeeeease?
on the plate for today: doctor's appointment during which i will list every one of my concerns, and permaybehaps apple-picking or a picnic with hill_the_khore and septicidal... time permitting. All I know is I have to do the bitch of a 2nd workout before 4 so I can get to the French club's crepe fete at 5, and after that comes Flogging Mollyyyyyy!
1000m is balls to the wall on every stroke. You hurt by the first hundred meters, and then you've got 900 more to go. It takes a guy about three and a half minutes; most of our girls are at or under four. I sat next to Jamie on the first piece; every stroke I took was for Eve's seat, for the A boat, for last Saturday, for lightweight, for beating whatever's still residing in my lungs. My split was 0.2 seconds slower than Jamie's (making it 0.4sec slower total), which I can deal with. I also weigh about 7lbs less than she does, so pulling a split right next to hers counts in my favor.
The guys did their second piece, I took some albuterol (leftover from the respiratory badness) because I was finding it hard to breathe, and then we sat down to do our pieces.
With about 600 meters to go, I started feeling uncontrollably nauseated, to the point that I couldn't just power through it. And then when I slowed down, I started hyperventilating. At 554 meters, I stopped completely and Ellen came over to make sure I was okay. Hyperventilation, by the way, is not fun. I feel like part of it was legit, and part of it may have been psyching myself out. I pulled a 1:57.somethin' on the first piece, which was awesome, and I was still holding onto 2min on the second, but after having spent a few weeks in self-preservation mode, I just freaked out at the first (okay, second or twelfth) sign of distress. Also, I think the albuterol may have contributed. It acts like adrenaline, and maybe my lungs really didn't need it this time, so having it sent them super-active.
I felt like shit about it, and Ellen knows because I told her at least three separate times. She said she'd rather I stop than go to the hospital with an asthma attack.
Then we did a three-mile "cooldown" and "stretch out" run on last year's timed-run course. This time was better; because we weren't timed, I took it at a good rate, and managed to stay within sight of Maria, Becky, and Sara B, and I hung back with Talia. It reminds me of a story...
In elementary school, we all had to take these fitness tests that included timed situps, pull-ups, and a timed mile run. I knew I wouldn't be taking that mile at a run the whole way, so I think I pretty much walked it. Then, for the last fifth of a mile, a lady with her stroller told me she'd jog to the end with me. Through that eternity of pain (I was a fat kid with no respiratory power whatsoever!), she kept with me, kept encouraging me, and made me finish the run at a jog.
After I collapsed and finished catching my breath, I think I thanked her.
So anyway, I felt like I could be that lady for Talia, and whenever she got too far behind I'd start jogging backwards and encourage her to catch up. She went the last half-mile straight, for sure, from the bridge back to the boathouse. At the end we pretended we were elite runners and kicked it up. It felt good despite the cramping and jellylegs from the pieces. It felt good to run the entire thing with confidence. And the strangest three songs were going through my head: first, what I know in Latin of Adeste Fideles (mostly the last line of text); then Fantasies Come True from Avenue Q; finally, Tom Lehrer's Masochism Tango.
efg says for that, I win the award. What award he's not sure, but I win the award.
THIS morning. Longer warmup run, nasty shin splints, wall sits for jumpies. However, I was in the "A" (I put that in quotes 'cause it was the only women's four out, though it was four v. strong girls) boat: starboard-rigged Mai Resa with Lily, Sarah, me, Maria and Jamie. First off, we had a mess of problems with the foot stretchers involving taking my stretchers off entirely to try and adjust the position... badness. Once we got going, it was steady state down, and right before Northeastern Ellen told us to weigh enough and look at the sunrise. All rowers' eyes turned to take in the most gorgeous smear of pinks and oranges spread across a sky of pointillated foam, and I said the bracha for sunrises.
Then we picked it back up, spun, and ellen told the fours we'd be leapfrogging back.
Except the guys' boat stayed ahead and didn't let us pass the ENTIRE time.
The point of the leapfrog drill is to practice passing on boats. It's not to practice holding them off. Boat A goes faster, passes boat B entirely, and slows the rate. Boat B picks up the rate, passes boat A, slows down. Boat A picks up the rate... et cetera.
Mike didn't get that. He didn't tell them to slow down and he kept it at too high a rating and he was having them take tens to keep us off. We were at full pressure for ten full minutes. Steady state is supposed to be 75-80% pressure, and we poured it out to pass them for ten minutes to no avail.
Do not tell me it's just because they're that much faster. The four of us are fast and were having a good row, power- and set-wise. If the boys really were doing it at steady state, then they needed to SLOW DOWN to let us pass. Leapfrog doesn't work if someone leaps and then doesn't crouch down.
Ellen was busy with the eight. Lily was frumious. Mike was chastised.
Anyway, even if the row wasn't so good, the rowing, I thought, was. I've had much worse, is all I'm sayin'.
Oh, and the blood blister I worked up on Saturday popped while we were at full pressure. Sortof a disappointment: it's my first blood blister ever and I don't even have the satisfaction of watching it pop (is there actually blood that comes out?). Also annoying because it's on my right ring finger, which was already my biggest callus. I just had to hold the oar so much harder on Sat because it was so wet and windy. GAH.
Also, thankfully, after the morning pieces yesterday Ellen switched the second workouts. This means that today's workout is the bitch, but I have the rest of the day to sleep -- AND this week I get a morning off (though it's still a workout on my own) besides Friday. It happens to be tomorrow. This is totally exciting, because it means I can stay up late(r) seeing Flogging Molly tonight. (zomg!)
Last night efg and I used that Indian-food coupon and then saw Little Miss Sunshine, which he's been wanting to see for a good long while and I said I'd see again with him.
It's such a cute movie. Abigail Breslin is adorable. I love the actors who played Grandpa, Frank, and Dwayne (not to mention their characters). And as is always the case with efg, there were good times all 'round, and some raucous Da Vinci's Notebook singing in the kitchen, even branching into a three-part My Girl with hill_the_khore. Defining moment of that part of the evening would be when we were all diddling with the harmonies and I said, "Let's sing this in the right key." Immediately efg and I belt out C major... because perfect pitch pwns. And after he finished his tea, he went home. Next time, Guatemalan food? How about Taco Night? (Kidding.)
I suppose yesterday was quite the eventful day. I also had the ling8b midterm. The only piece I didn't pwn was the differentiation between inflectional and derivational affixes, dammit. After that I read Golden Compass on the lawn outside Schwartz and took a 25-minute nap on the grass and pine needles. Then I went to do the steady state, came home and showered, and forced septicidal to go shopping. I am concerned for my roommate when she becomes nocturnal, loses ten pounds in as many days, has been feeling sick for three weeks, can't go to work for two weeks, and has been complaining that she's out of food for at least the past week. Despite her being too tired to go (which really I think was because she hadn't had any food to give her energy for the past way-long time), I forcefully voiced my concerns and then dragged her bumbum to Hannaford for a quick stock-up and still managed to get back before efg arrived to pick me up. Because I am That Good.
speaking of stock-up, SOMEBODY tell me s/he's going to the farmers' market this weekend! If not I'll die. I need my heirloom tomatoes! I want a rosemary plant! The gala apples, oh-so-sweet, oh-so-tasty, they sit in bins unclaimed by me! I will give whomever goes a list and more than enough money, the change of which they may keep in exchange for the favor rendered.
....pleeeeeeeease?
on the plate for today: doctor's appointment during which i will list every one of my concerns, and permaybehaps apple-picking or a picnic with hill_the_khore and septicidal... time permitting. All I know is I have to do the bitch of a 2nd workout before 4 so I can get to the French club's crepe fete at 5, and after that comes Flogging Mollyyyyyy!