Monday, June 16, 2008

Angst. With a headcold. And sunburn.

Why is that you only ever get sick at The Most Inconvenient Time Imaginable?

I'm sick. Henley is in less than a week and I'm sick. Shit bugger wank balls fuck damn arse shit fuck.

And because I'm sick, I feel like crap and therefore can't be bothered to give you a long, drawn-out, delightful narrative of the weekend's spankings. There were two. I shall sum up.


Competing in the double scull. Was so nervous I was nauseas for 3 days leading up. Got attached to the stake boat, nearly blew my cookies, had a really mess start (holy fuck that stream was strong!!!), and rowed a line like a fucking sine curve. I was all over the river. Even so we only lost by a length. I figure if you factor in all the extra distance we did on account of my fucking steering (or lack thereof) we actually went about 100m farther, and therefore won. Too bad the judges don't see it that way.

The Mother-in-law came as well, bless her M&S socks. All that way to watch us lose. (Twice.)
Had a nice picnic anyway. The weather was good. There was a lovely irish wolf hound who befriended me and got belly rubs out of the bargain. I got dog hairs on my wet lycra.


Racing in a quad scull with a seriously strong crew. Scratch crew. We'd only had 1 outing together prior to racing. It was just for a lark. But the Bristol women who swore up and down that they didn't want to race a quad scull and thereby effectively threw me out of the club (remember that?)... THEY ENTERED A QUAD AGAINST US.

Knife in back: TWIST.

Holy fuck were we out for blood. We wanted to win it. BAD. Rarely in my life have I wanted anything so badly. I wanted their heads on platters. With little bits of parsley garnish sticking out of their eyeballs. The cunts.

We had an awesome start. After a few strokes we were already clearly ahead. Poor Weybridge didn't stand a chance. (I should clarify here that we were actually racing Weybridge. The Bristol quad got knocked out in their first round, but we wanted to win the whole event just to demonstrate our obvious superiority. It would have been nice to meet them in the final, but they got eliminated by New South Wales.) We were going to decimate them and go on to the final.

Until Sal crabbed. Massively. And then, utter genius that she is, her reflex was to use both hands to try to recover her blade, and so she let go of the second one! Aaaaaahhhh!

So that was us done. We made a valiant effort and came back well, even managing to close the 4 lenghts of open water between us and come in contact with them again, but then we ran out of river and they crossed the line first. Had we had another 200m of water we'd have gone right through them, but it was a short course and there just wasn't time.

Weybridge were really friendly about the whole thing and we cheered them in the final. They lost to UL, poor dears.

But we decided the quad has sufficient potential that we will carry on racing it through the summer, because we're confident we can win shit. And the weather was perfect, so that was nice. And I got to pet a 12-week old beagle puppy named Donut, who was an absolute little doll. And there was chocolate cake in abundance, which also helped. But i'd gladly give all that up and more to have won that race in the quad.

Yeah, AND I got sunburn on the top of my head where my hair was parted.

And now I'm sick, one fucking week before Henley. Frustrating ain't the word.

I'm going back to bed now.



Gordie said...

You're very eloquent when you're arsey.

geosomin said...

Hope you feel better...

Chaucer's Itch said...

Geordie: which did you like better, the incomplete sentences or the swearing?

Geo: you and me both, kid.

Timorous Beastie said...

Sorry about the cold. Me too. No pics of that wolf hound then?

MJ said...

It was going commando at the office that caused this illness.

Dave said...

I did warn you about that flimsy clothing. A nice thick cricket jumper and a floppy hat next time.

Chaucer's Itch said...

TB: sorry. no pics of the beagle pup, either. i didn't have my camera with me. the above photo was taken by my mother-in-law (who is less interested in dogs).

mj: really? damn. I'll never get better then.

dave: a nice thick cricket jumper sounds pretty good right now, i can tell you.

Gordie said...

It was all good. It read like you short of breath and in pain... like Rocky, or the interview Chris Eubank gave immediately after he'd beaten Nigel Benn.

Please check my name, btw. It is a feminised version of our hapless Prime Minister's, rather than a link to any miserable Tyneside Vikings :-)

Chaucer's Itch said...

So it is! Sorry about that. I was actually thinking more of Geordie LaForge from Star Trek TNG, which is perhaps slightly less distasteful to you.

Gordie said...

Oh yes.. he's cool. Very few things about your blog are distasteful, especially compared to transaction cost economics.

ziggi said...

a nice, very large (pint) medicinal hot toddy with plenty of brandy followed by 20 hours sleep an you'll be fine!

Chaucer's Itch said...

Gordie: very few things about my blog are distasteful? You haven't been reading very long!

Zigster: I DID that on Sunday night. And again on Monday night. And I've just had another one tonight, and i'm still getting worse. I'm starting to get really worried about the weekend.

Gordie said...

The evidence supports you ... but don't underestimate my good taste.

ZB said...

An Olympic Runner gave me the two best bits of advice about being an athlete that I've ever heard.

1) The most successful athlete is not necessarily the best but the one who manages their injuries best.

2) You never get injured when you're running shite. Only when you're flying.

ZB said...

"Please check my name, btw. It is a feminised version of our hapless Prime Minister's, rather than a link to any miserable Tyneside Vikings :-)"

We wouldn't have you anyway. We're very picky.