We have a cox. Stole one from the men. They're racing at Marlowe, and I even found them a substitute coxwain from Manchester (thank you Manchester for being so willing to lend a hand!), but they turned their collective noses up at her. One of the other men's coxes reckons she can double up and do two boats since their races aren't in time conflict. I think they're going to regret that decision, but their fucking problem. They didn't exactly bend over backwards last weekend to help us out, so if they've shot themselves in the foot I don't give a flaming rat's ass.
So we're going to Henley. I'm leaving in less than an hour. Our time trial is tomorrow at 11:15 am. My gastrointestinal winged invertebrates are already getting fluttery. I'm going to redeem myself.
Two years ago at Henley I was rowing 3 seat in a coxed 4 with Manchester. We got through our time trial, and in the first round against Stratford we lost. We lost big. And we lost because of me.
Maybe if I hadn't fucked up we would have lost anyway; who knows. But I made sure we didn't stand a steak's chance in an emaciated lions' den. It was a strong crew; we had a lot of potential. But thanks to the fact that I caught a crab on the third strok of the start, my crew never got a chance to test that potential.
(The Manchester Crew and cox. Pete, me, Alice (now on the GB squad), Che, and Hannah.)
There were a lot of mitigating factors. I could go on at lenght about how our coach didn't begin practicing regatta starts with us until 48 hours before the race. Or about how the effing genius thought it would be a good idea to lower my gate a full centimeter the morning of the race, making it that much more difficult for me to tap down and away and clear my knees. Or about how my stroke woman's legs were 8 inches shorter than mine and when she went flying off the start at 40 spm i was just doomed. I didn't get my hands down and away fast enough and my blade got stuck in the water. Ground us to a dead halt.
I could go on at lenght about these things, but the fact is I was the one who crabbed. I and I alone. Ultimately, it was my fault. I've been haunted by that mistake for two years. That may sound a tad melodramatic, but it's true. I've never forgiven myself for it (even though my team did), and I've never been truly able to respect myself or my performance.
This weekend is my chance to wipe clean that dark dark blotch on my rowing record. i want to be able to look myself in the eye again, to not have that guilt haning over me, to prove to myself... I don't know. that I don't suck I guess. I just know I have to get it right this time.