is it true, do you think, what matt pinsent says about how every time you don't finish a piece you lose a little bit of yourself forever? i think it's true. i wonder when i have a day like today if i've lost the piece of me that was going to get the gold medal. do you need all the pieces of yourself? or are some bits more essential than others? is coming back from a defeat heart, or is is just stupid? when you keep going regardless of the overwhelming odds and all the shit stacked against you, are you a champion or a bloody-minded moron? is there even a difference? they say winners never quit and quitters never win, but if you never win and never quit aren't you just an idiot?
i died on the erg today. i didn't make it to the line. i broke the rule. you die on the line, and not before. ever. period. fullstop. end of chat. you find it somewhere and you keep going, or you lose a little piece of yourself forever. i wonder what piece i lost today. i already miss it.
it wasn't fatigue. it wasn't leg burn. it wasn't boredom, the burn, the doubt demons, the exhaustion or the sweat in my eyes. it was my fucking hand. i couldn't hold the handle. i tried, i really did. (or did i? am i just telling myself that to justify the death?) god it hurt so much. for a while i kept going. 2K at 18, then 2 min at 32, 2K at 18, 2 min at 34, 2K at 18, 2 min at 36... and then i lost it. halfway through the 36 sprint. there was supposed to be another piece at 38, but i never made it that far. i just couldn't hold the bar.
fucking arthritis. 5 1/2 years ago i woke up one morning and couldn't work my right hand. i couldn't button my shirt, zip my jeans, hold a toothbrush, or wipe my arse. my middle and 4th fingers were in excruciating pain and curled in against my palm. i couldn't straighten them out. my friend drove me to the hospital where the on-duty spastic told me there was nothing wrong with me and that i wasn't in pain. (he did, he actually said "you're not in pain." what an ass.) long story short, a month later a world-class rheumatologist diagnosed me as having an undifferentiated spondyloarthritis stemming from the presence of the B27 HLA. yeah, whatever that means.
well, what it means is that i can't make a fist, gripping things (like steering wheels, door knobs, pickle jars, and broom handles) is extremely difficult and often painful, my knees, back, and shoulders pop constantly and have limited motion, and that all these problems will get worse over time unitl eventually i kill myself like all the members of my dad's family with the same disease have done. the rate of degeneration, however, is anyone's guess. i might be just as i am today, functional with some minor limitations and inconveniences, until i'm 90. or i may lose the ability to hold a pencil before i finish this degree.
and that's why i row. all my life i've been called a wimp, a wuss. i wasn't allowed to play sports in high school (even though i had a pretty mean serve in volleyball), and when i was forced to play no one ever wanted me on their team. rowing is the only time i feel strong. when i'm in the boat, i know exactly who i am, what i'm doing, where i'm going, and why. and i know that the only person who can stop me is me. i hate my body. not for aesthetic reasons (aesthetically it's not catherine zeta-jones, but it's not tom jones either), but because all my life i was told it was weak.
well i changed that. i showed them. i am strong now. i hate weakness, can't tolerate it, in myself or others. i hate mental weakness, emotional weakness, and physical weakness. you could think of me as a klingon, and you wouldn't be far off. when i row, i am strong. it's the only thing that's ever mad me feel strong. it's the only time i like myself, it's the only time i'm strong. i like myself when i'm rowing. that's why i do it. i like liking myself.
so when i have an attack rowing, it cuts me to the pith. i bleed from the quick. it's the deepest kind of pain, because it's not just the physical pain i feel, it's the loss of strenght, and i hate myself. it's my kryptonite; it totally debilitates me just at the moment of my greatest triumph. i hate this disease. i hate it because it attacks me in the most personal place imaginable. it's not because of the pain in my hands that i'm crying now, it's because i couldn't finish; i was too weak. i couldn't finish and i'll never get it back.
i just reached for my tea and my shoulder popped, just now. because i tried to take a sip of tea. why won't my body let me forget that i have this disease? for just one day, that's all i want. dear santa, for christmas i would like to go though one day, just one, with no pain and popping joints. that's all. you can keep the leather watch and new trainers and heart-rate monitor i asked for. just give me one day without creaking and popping and infamation and soreness, and let that day be in the summer of 2012 when i'm pulling for the gold. then i when i'm old and withered (if i make it to old age), i can say to my kids (as they open the pickle jar for me), "see? i wasn't always like this. see this photo? this medal? i was strong once, many yeas ago. i was so strong. you wouldn't know it to see me now, but that's what this is for, so i know it wasn't a dream."
wallingford is tomorrow. don't know if i'll be able to race. i really want to, but coach thinks maybe i shouldn't. i don't know. i'll have to make a decision in a couple hours. more ibuprophen, i think.
5 comments:
The only way that you get that piece of yourself back is, once your hand is better, you get back on the erg or in the boat, you push yourself to the same place where your body is on the ragged edge of what it can do and this time, you finish. It is really easy to say 'Oh, when it matters I won't crack. I'll finish' when you're warm and toasty in the boathouse and you're making excuses for why you stopped. I've heard people say it. They never get it back. There was an Australian Rower (an Australian! They're tough as nails!) who quit in the final in Athens. It lost her crew a medal. Turns out that she'd got previous for quitting before. Nobody but a rower understands what the middle and closing stages of a piece feel like - regardless of whether you're having a bad day or not, they always hurt - and even rowers forget in between pieces how much racing and fitness testing hurts. The only way to know that you won't crack again is to put yourself into that hole again and climb out. And then never don't finish again. If you have to limp to the line (Redgrave cracked on his last national squad erg after two minutes. Blood sugar dip or colitis or just a bad day, who knows. He had to be carried from the machine. But he finished) with one hand, finish. You always finish on an erg. A boat is different. Sometimes pieces fall apart, sometimes someone else falls apart, sometimes you hit a log and lose the rudder, sometimes you're underprepared but what you work towards in a boat is crew unity and the unity of a crew who treats a race like they treat an erg. You always finish races, you never give up, the last stroke (as Jurgen predicted in Athens with the four) could be the one that matters. Cracking happens hun. I've cracked on a 2 x 10 minute piece, rating 24, full pressure after seven minutes. I came forward to the catch and just stopped and got off the machine before I knew what I was doing. I'd eaten nothing all day, been at work for ten hours and was late and dehydrated. Excuses? Facts. But they don't count. I hated myself. I hated myself so bad I drank a bottle of water, sat back on the machine, reprogrammed the session times (2 x 10 mins, 5 rec) and did it. Was it the best time I ever did? No? Was it the smoothest I've ever been? No. Did I finish? Yes. And as I noted in my diary, instead of doing 20mins at full pressure, I'd effectively done 27 at full pressure. Turn negatives into positives. I once did a a pb 2k one hour after completing another 2k in a time that I thought wasn't good enough. I was that disappointed, I fumed bad temperedly all the way through my cool down, all the way into the shower, all the way out the door and part of the way home before I thought 'Fuck this. You bottled that' and went back and did another one. Which I pb'd. Listen to your body. Always be well fed, hydrated, rested, stretched and mentally ready for what you're going to do. Now, get your hand where it needs to be, put yourself back in the hole, get through it. If you do want an Olympic gold then every day is important. You never get the days again. Spend them well and it is money in the bank for when you need it. You know where your ergs need to be, you know where you need to be technically and you know you have a finite time to achieve these things if you want to enter the national programme. Use what you're doing now as a way of achieving those goals.
Ps - you're rating awful high for winter training on a saturday erg and the day before a race. Your entire crews bodies are going to be full of lactic acid and micro torn muscles come the head tomorrow. That's a full pressure sprint piece. Is it part of your coaches plan that you race fucking shattered? Dude, before a race, esp if it is an important one, your training should be tapered so that your load is exponentially reduced from your usual load to give your body time to fully recover. It is a fact that training doesn't make you fit. It is the recovery time between sessions that makes you fit. If you stop training now, you'll actually be fitter in seven to ten days when your body is fully rested and recovered than you are today. Fact. Before a race, do a steady state with good striking, length and clean catches and finishes as the priority, some good bursts, run through tactics and then go home and eat pasta.
FFS.
Enough. Rest the hand.
Oh yeah, forgot to add, if you snap a hamstring mid piece, you're allowed to stop. Injuries are outside of your control. Your hand comes into this category, I think. You're a rower. Feeling pain is natural. If you were feeling worse pain than you usually feel, pain enough for you to stop because of an injury, then stopping in those circumstances is not cracking. It's just your body letting you down like your bicep tearing, your back spasming or your knee going mid stroke.
Steve Redgrave - bloody minded moron and champion. You want to see a boat move, get the vids of him and Pinsent at Barcelona. The heat, the semi and the final are the best pieces of rowing I've ever seen. Awesome, effortless and frankly scary.
the peices and rates were determined by the coach, who was standing over us, assisting and correcting us. (we were pulling in unison, due to the avon being over her banks so no outing, hence a team ergo session.) i thought it seemed a bit odd as well, but i don't make the training schedule.
Ok I'm not a rower (the few times I tried it it gave me vertigo and my dodgy knees won't take the strain) and in fact I'm not sporty at all (how did she manage that? the world asks - how did she manage that? growing up the family she grew up in? Personally I think that its proof enough of the fact that I am actually royalty and was abducted at birth) but obviously living with herebe and the alleged mother has given me a good understanding of the basics and what he says makes sense. In fact it's pretty much a design for life in general.
However and for what its worth, (advice from an unsporty, and unsporting, person) , it might help the arthritis if you up your dose of omega 3. I only mention it because F gets horrendous pains in his hands because of the amount of playing he does and he really does notice a difference if he doesn't take them. They won't cure the arthritis but they'll make it a whole lot better. Don't know if herebe's mentioned it but our family has a predisposition to rheumatiod arthritis...I know it's probably miles apart from the spondyloarthritis you were diagnosed with but it also might help if you tried the Hay diet as that's supposed to keep it at bay. Avoid all citrus fruits as well - apart from lemons - as they are poison to anyone with joint problems.
One other thing that might help, (well it works for me) is regular visits to an oestopath. Not to crack your back, but the person I visit has machine that uses electrical impulses to drain out any build up of lactic acid. I go once a fortnight and its brilliant! Makes you feel like a new person. The lady I see uses this on most members of the Scottish Orchestra and has tried it on F's hands as well when they were particularly locked and it does work. Because rowing uses a repetitive motion and your hands are in a fairly fixed position (or so I'm assuming - I can't see you having time to flex them out every 7 strokes or so) then it would prob work for you as well.
I
Post a Comment