Category: Racing

Race calls

Coxing Racing

Race calls

“What are some good calls I can use during a race to motivate my team?” “Is there anything I shouldn’t say during a race?” “What are some calls that have worked for you…?” “Can you give me some really great calls to use during my race?” (Lol no.)

This question gets asked ad nauseum. I’ve given and highlighted plenty of examples in past posts (all of which are tagged “calls“) but for this post I thought I’d highlight a couple examples that have come up on our coxswain evaluations. When we refined the evals last spring we added a section that asked what calls the rowers liked and didn’t like, which gave them a chance to highlight what they wanted to hear and/or didn’t want to hear during races (and practice, but that’ll be a separate post).

You can see some of their comments, exactly how they were on the evals, up above. Not only is none of it groundbreaking, none of it is “magical” either. Everything they said is pretty straightforward and basic … just like your calls should be. This is just one set of examples of what a D1 men’s crew likes to hear but hopefully this gives you a few ideas for calls to incorporate into your repertoire as we get into the championship part of the season.

Image via // @merijnsoeters

Coxing Masters Q&A Racing

Question of the Day

Hi! I have my last race coming up in a couple of weeks and I’m coxing four boats at it. The first boat is our Varsity 4A who I am very used to and have been coxing all year. The second boat is a LWT Novice 4 that was kind of thrown together last minute because we needed to boat everyone. The other two are masters boats for my club team that I’m obviously not a part of because I’m in high school, but they needed an extra coxswain and their coach is my old coach, so he asked me. Do you have any tips for coxing races generally and not super person-specifically, but still well? The two masters boats have real shots at medalling so I want to make sure I do my best with them, even though I’ve never met or worked with any of them before. The LWT4 doesn’t really have much of a shot just because who we’re competing against but I still want them to feel like they had a good end-of-season race. What do you think? Thank you so much!! PS: The two masters boats will be bowloaders and since I won’t have very good boat sense with them because they’re not my teammates, I don’t know how well I’ll do with technical calls.

I wouldn’t be super concerned with the masters boats – your main goal there should be to just steer straight. (Obviously that should be the goal every time you race but in this case it’s really your only responsibility.) I’d ask your coach if he has a race plan he wants them to follow and if he does, go over it with him so you understand it and then just execute it on race day. Don’t worry about technical calls or anything like that unless they specifically ask you to make some (this is something you should ask rather than waiting for them to bring it up).

Masters crews tend to fall into two categories – the ones who are doing it recreationally and should never (ever) be left to their own devices and the ones who are fairly competitive and a little more self-sufficient. If these guys have a chance at medaling then they probably fall into the latter category, in which case they might just ask you steer and handle everything else themselves. When I’ve coxed one-off races with masters boats they usually tell me up front that to keep things simple since I’m new to the boat all I need to do is get them from Point A to Point B and the bow seat will make whatever calls they need outside of rate shifts and transitions. It’s not the worst arrangement and it definitely takes a ton of weight off your shoulders when you’re meeting them for the first time the day of the race.

You have two jobs on race day … steer straight and execute the race plan. If you do those two things well then you’ve done your job. With your lightweight boat, if they’ve raced before then I’d ask them to tell you one thing that motivated them in their race or if they haven’t raced, give you something they want you to say to them during the race (either technical or motivational). That way you’ll at least have something you can fall back on during the race if it starts to feel a little dry. I’ve said this a lot but you can also incorporate them into whatever moves you take, i.e. “lets take 5 for the legs, here we go middle pair…” or “let’s take 10 to take two seats, go get your seat [3-seat]”. Stuff like that can bring a good energy to the boat and it literally takes no effort on your part.

Usually my approach to “generally” coxing a race is to just do what I know works. There were plenty of times in high school where my main boat would be my eight and then on top of that I’d also have a four that we put together that week as an extra entry so everyone could race twice. If it was a light four comprised of four people from my light eight then I’d cox them the exact same as I would the light eight. If it was four people in the 1V and I’d been coxing the 2V then I’d ask the 1V coxswain for a few calls that she’s been using and incorporate that into my race plan, which would more than likely be the same one that I’d use with my regular boat. Very, very little changes for me when I get into a new/unfamiliar boat, especially if I’m only gonna be with them for one race.

The Mental Game

Coxing Racing Rowing Teammates & Coaches

The Mental Game

Previously: The language of the first 500 || Getting off the line with world class speed

Dr. Adam Naylor is a sport psychologist at BU and Northeastern and his talk at the What Works Summit on the mental aspect of being ready on race day is the focus of this week’s post. We pay so much attention to making sure we’re technically and physiologically ready but we tend to not give as much thought to preparing ourselves mentally and emotionally. This leads to having lackluster levels of confidence that can manifest itself in many negative ways on race day.

For us as coxswains (especially if you’re new to the sport) it can be tough because not only do you have to sort out your own mental state on race day but you’ve also potentially gotta sort out eight other people’s as well. It’s hard to act as the unifying force in the boat if you don’t know how to do that. Hopefully what’s down below will give you some strategies for how to approach this on race day so you and your crew will be just as prepared mentally as you are physically.

How to help athletes manage themselves

On race day, what do you see in your teammates? The first response given during the talk was “panic”, which prompted a side conversation on how panic manifests itself in the athletes. You can see the look of panic or distress or anxiety in their eyes but what effect is it actually having on their bodies? In my experience, it usually meant my friends were very tense, very quiet, and/or very antsy. Their shoulders would be up around their ears, they wouldn’t be saying a word (which, for high school and college-aged women, is unusual), and they’d be pacing back and forth, walking in circles around the trailer, or incessantly tapping their fingers against their thighs.

The easy response to all of this would be to say “just relax” but the reason why it’s easy is because it’s not helpful. You know how when you’re in an argument with someone and they say “chill out” or “relax” in response to your frustration and it just pisses you off even more? The same thing applies here. Having someone say “relax” when you’re anxious just makes you even more anxious because your brain is going all over the place and you can’t process what you actually need to do to calm down.

The better response is to tell them how to relax. Sometimes this is something you can do one-on-one (a recent example is me putting my hands on our coxswains’ shoulders, looking them in the eye, and saying “breathe … you got this” before they go out) but other times it’s something you can/should do as a crew. One year one of my boats would circle up and we’d actually do breathing exercises together for ten minutes as part of our land warmup. We had this whole “routine” that our five seat (who was really into yoga and meditation) would talk us through that involved a lot of “close your eyes, drop your shoulders, inhale through your nose for a count of five, exhale for a count of five…”, etc.

Similar to coxing rowers on the erg though, you’ve also gotta know when to leave them alone. There are guys on our team who come to the boathouse on race day super tense and completely unlike their usual selves and their way of loosening up is to spend 40 minutes foam-rolling, listening to music, and standing out on the boathouse balcony by themselves. It’s funny seeing them standing 5-10 feet apart just doing their own thing (even though they’re all pretty much doing the exact same thing) but it works.

As the coxswain you have to know your rowers and know which approach is going to be the most beneficial – both of which requires you to communicate with them. If you’re coxing girls the team/social approach might work best whereas with guys, letting them have some time to themselves before getting together as a group might be the best strategy. Regardless of what you do though, consider the language you use on land, on the way to the start line, and at the start line and make sure you’re using words that actually help get in the right headspace vs. saying something useless like “just relax”.

Managing ourselves

So, what about us? I have a tendency to be the most calm and the most nervous person on race day, which can be a really tough internal battle to try and manage. When I was a freshman (aka a novice) I would outwardly try to display a really calm, in-control demeanor not just because I knew it was expected of me but also because I knew my teammates were going to mirror my emotions. The more confident I appeared, the more relaxed they would be. Plus, they were varsity rowers and I wanted to give the impression that I could handle the responsibility of coxing them. Internally though, I was usually bouncing off the walls and visualizing all the things that they were outwardly doing … I’d visualize myself tapping my fingers on my legs, jumping up and down or nervously walking in circles, etc.

Even though I was confident in my skills as a coxswain, despite having only been doing it for a few months, I’d sometimes get into these verbal sparring matches with myself where I’d question why I was so confident when I was just a novice and why I was coxing the 1V or the V4+ because no one else really believed I deserved it … they were all just pretending. I would go from being actually confident and actually calm to putting myself on the verge of full on panic attacks like, five minutes before we were supposed to launch.

Related: TED Talks, body language and … coxing?

Keeping all that internalized though is really disastrous though so once my coach picked up on the fact that something was off, we started going on short walks before our scheduled meet-up times and he’d ask how I felt and I’d say “…nervous”, “…ready”, or whatever adjective properly captured my emotions at that moment. It was at this point where he’d stand in front of me, put his hands on my shoulders, and say “deep breaths … breathe … you got this”, which, as I’ve said in past posts, became my starting line mantra (and what I sometimes do with our coxswains now).

Throughout the rest of high school, in college, and even now I figured out that the best way for me to be in a good headspace before a race is to get away from other people and be by myself. I, like a lot of coxswains, know that I can be very tough, negative, and straight up mean towards myself so to actually be calm and actually be confident before races (rather than faking it in order to appear so), I assess how I’m doing and repeat exactly what my coach said to me. Deep breaths … breathe … you got this. Being honest about how you feel, admitting that you’re nervous, and acknowledging that you can’t predict the outcome of the race is confident and shouldn’t be something you’re afraid to do.

The beauty of sports + the acceptance of the unknown

The beauty of sports, especially rowing, is that you have to give up control in order to do well. Once you start racing at a high enough level you aren’t gonna know the outcome of your race ahead of time. Sometimes in high school it’s easy to predict that this boat is gonna blow that boat out of the water but that becomes less so the deeper into the sport you get. Eventually you have to race the entire race to know what the outcome is and that’s the fun part. 

As a coxswain the thought of giving up control can be hard to wrap your head around, especially if you’re a major control freak (which most of us are self-aware enough to admit that we are). That’s where your awareness kicks in though and why you can’t go into a race with OCD levels of perfectionist tendencies and being hell bent on just spitting out a scripted race plan. Giving up control as a coxswain during a race means being aware of how it’s evolving around you and being confident enough in your skills, your preparation, and your teammates to say “this is what we’re gonna do … it might work out”.  You have to be willing to take risks and remember the stress that comes with it is what makes it fun.

 Image via // @hollandbeker

College Racing Video of the Week

Video of the Week: Inches

It’s crazy that I’ve been posting videos every Monday for three and a half years and I haven’t posted this one yet. It’s been my favorite rowing video for as long as I can remember … and it’s not even a rowing video. Not really, anyways. I made the decision awhile ago that I wasn’t going to post it on the blog until the time was right because I didn’t want to post it on just any regular Monday … it had to be before something big. Well, now’s that time.

Last year at Sprints we lost to George Washington by 0.1 seconds. 0.1 seconds. Practically a bow ball. We came in 4th by 0.1 seconds and missed out on qualifying the eight for IRAs. One inch.

The inches we need are everywhere around us. On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. Claw with our fingernails for that inch because we know when we add up all those inches, that’s going to make the fucking difference between winning and losing … between living and dying.

In any fight it’s the guy who’s willing to die who is going to win that inch.

Getting off the line with world class speed

Coxing Drills Racing Rowing Technique

Getting off the line with world class speed

This was a talk given by Bryan Volpenhein, former Ohio State and US National Team rower and now current national team coach of the men’s four. He spoke on “getting off the line with world class speed”, which comes down to having the right mentality at the start, staying relaxed at peak speed, and executing a clean shift.

The start defined

We’ve all heard the phrase “you can’t win the race off the start but you can lose it”, not just as a result of your rowing but also due to your mentality. The one singular purpose of the start is to get you into the race. Your specific job is to get the lead and the start is your first opportunity to do that. One of the biggest keys (#majorkey) to accomplishing that is the intent you go to the line with. There can’t be any hesitation or doubt about what you’re going to do – everyone has to be on the same page and know exactly how the next 30-40 strokes are going to be executed. If there’s any hesitation or you’re thinking about what you’re gonna do on the shift or how it’s going to happen or anything other than just straight execution, you’re already at a disadvantage.

This is  huge reason why coxswains MUST call the start consistently and not change the calls on race day or the number of strokes it takes to shift to base, etc. The start must be instinctual for you and the rowers and if your execution here is poor, you’ve gone from being an asset to a distraction in 30 strokes or less. Practicing them on a regular basis and having the discipline to “stick to the script” can help alleviate any uncertainty and allow the crew to become more comfortable with the calls, speed, and, in the case of the rowers, discomfort.

Relaxation with effort

This is a simple concept. Maintaining a sense of relaxation with power and while at speed is all about being loose. Less is more here and patience is the key to both.

At the catch and on the drive the shoulders and hands should stay relaxed while the resistance is felt in the hips and fingers.

Putting the blade in the water should be the result of swinging from the armpits rather than lifting with the shoulders. The catch should be completely free of tension.

The recovery should be an exercise in patience, particularly at high rates like you have off the start. A steady roll into the catch, regardless of rate, should occur naturally by letting the boat run under you rather than relying on the hamstrings to pull you up.

Bottom line – any unnecessary contraction of muscles you don’t need is going to result in a loss of speed.

Practicing the shift

This is one of the most important parts of the race so the execution of it has to be clean by both the coxswain and crew. One of the things that I thought was interesting was what Bryan said about the language they use to describe this chunk of strokes. Rather than call it the “settle” or say “stride”, both of which he considers too passive, he prefers to call it the “shift” because it refers to an active shift in speed to race speed. This communicates the sense that you’re not coming down in speed, you’re maintaining it or trying to go faster by attacking the race at a more sustainable pace.

When you’re calling the shift, the timing of your calls is important for a clean execution by everyone. Something you need to practice and discuss with the crew early on is where in the stroke cycle you’re making your calls. Convention dictates that 98% of your calls are made at the catch but if you’re one of those coxswains who counts their strokes at the finish, you’ve gotta figure out how the shift is going to work if you want the change to happen on the next catch (i.e. if you say “ten” at the finish of stroke 10 and want the change to happen on what would be stroke 11).

Personally I think making calls at the finish and trying to initiate the shift in the span of half a stroke (aka the recovery) rather than across one full stroke (the drive and subsequent recovery) introduces frantic, rushed feeling into the boat’s psyche that could easily be avoided by just spacing out the calls … and, obviously, as I’ve said many times before, not trying to cram too many words into a short period of time. Efficiency applies not just to the rowing but to your calls as well.

Related: Listen to how the shift is called in this race (around the 0:32 second mark), as well as the language used.

Drills to work on the start

Some of the high rate drills Bryan does with the four to help them practice getting off the line include half-slide builders, which help you change direction and get connected without checking the boat (seen below) and reverse ratio placements.

Reverse ratio, which is when you have a full speed recovery and a zero speed drive, isn’t something you typically want to see but in this context it helps the rowers work on body control (setting the bodies quickly) and accuracy at the front end. It also helps you coordinate the recovery sequence when you’re at race pace and eliminate any tension on the drive when the blade is being supported by the water.

Below are some videos that Bryan showed during his presentation and shared with me afterwards that demonstrate what the reverse ratio drill looks like. The first is a stroke by stroke drill, the second and third show the reverse ratio while rowing continuously, and the last one shows their full starting sequence (the splits of which he said were consistently hitting 1:17s).

Image via // Merijn Soeters
Race skills: Coxing from behind

Coxing Racing

Race skills: Coxing from behind

Coxing when you’re behind is one of the hardest things you can be tasked with during a race, second only to coxing a race like our JV had this past weekend where they built up a 2/3 length lead by 1000m and then lost by a seat or two of open water. (You can watch the race here if you want.)

The latter has always been hard for me to work out how to do, on one hand because it’s (luckily) not a position I’ve found myself in very often but also because there just doesn’t seem to be a strategy for dealing with a broken crew (coxswain included). Today’s post though is gonna talk about coxing when you’ve fallen slightly back but are still within striking distance or when you’re in the thick of a race and are trying to work your way up to get your bow ball in front.

My strategy when I’m sitting in third, fourth, fifth, or sixth is to make it a two-boat race and work our way up crew by crew. These mini-races within the context of the overall race helps you to manage your calls (instead of bouncing around all over the place with minimal direction or focus) and in turn gives the crew small achievable goals to focus on.

The thing I struggled with initially when doing this was knowing when to demand more of my boat to actually get us past another crew. There were times where we’d slooowly move on them (or we’d move quickly initially and then sit for awhile) but when you’re sitting in fourth and you’ve only got 1100m left to work with, that’s not good enough. Creating these mini-races helped me develop my awareness because it forced me to pay attention to our speed relative to the other boats. I found that when we were sitting on a crew or the amount that we were walking on them slowed, it was usually because I was becoming too focused on what was happening outside the boat, which would dampen our fire a little bit and allow the crew’s focus to wander.

Once I realized this I’d make calls like “we’re in a good position on New Trier but we’ve been sitting for the last 10 strokes … let’s refocus the legs and shut them down … on this one … legs NOW, legs NOW…”. “Now” is a call I use a lot while coxing but in situations like this, the change in my tone when I said it communicated a (controlled) sense of urgency that resonated with the boat and helped us find that next gear and move. That’s the key too – as demanding of a call as “now” is, it was never that that they were responding to … it was how I said it and that can make a huge difference when you’re coxing from behind. One of my stroke seats used to call it my “don’t fuck with me” voice. When that came out during a race (which was only in certain situations) the crew just knew to snap back into it and respond to whatever I was saying in an instant.

Awhile ago I found this anecdote from Marcus McElhenney from when he raced in Beijing in 2008 that touches on creating mini-races and getting your crew excited about moving past the boats around you.

“In the Olympic final we had an okay start but at the 500m mark we were in 6th place. We were in lane two. The Dutch were in lane one and almost ¾ of a length up. Lane three and four had the Brits and Canada, who were WAY out. This left Poland and Australia leading us on the outside in lanes 5 and 6. My crew could not see anyone next to them. Realizing that we could overtake the Aussies and Poles, I started to race them. It was all about getting up just one place at a time.

Over the second 500 meters we were then able to overtake them and were sitting in fourth. In the process we were able to cut the Dutch lead from two seconds to half a second. Then we turned our focused in the third 500m on the Dutch which would put us in medal position. I can remember looking at the bend in the oars. As guys from the bow like Schnorbich and Hoopman could sense the lead and medal, the bend in the shaft grew. That feeling then started to pass up the crew as we began to move, the energy increased and we really started to cook. Stern pair, Volp and Inman, were now foaming at the mouth. We over took the Dutch establishing our Olympic medal spot.

New focus…the Brits! Their commanding lead over us during the first part of the race was now less than half a second. Last 500m and we were charging. We ended up not passing the Brits, but we came home with some hardware.”

If you’ve fallen really far back (like a length of open or more) then your focus has to shift to creating internal targets within the boat. You can’t keep saying “they’re walking away”, “we’re a length of open back”, etc. and expect the crew to suddenly have a burst of enthusiasm and “let’s go get ’em!” energy. Instead, focus on something tangible like dropping the splits by a second (and maintaining it) or re-establishing the rhythm so everyone is rowing together and not doing their own thing. If the boat is getting frantic, eliminating that feeling has to be your first priority otherwise you’ll just waste a ton of energy and have an even harder time trying to walk back on the other boats.

One question that comes up a lot is whether or not you should tell the crew that you’re in last place. For me, it’s 50-50 … if you’re sitting in last by no more than half a length of open water then you should tell them because closing that gap is doable. If you’re more than half a length back then I wouldn’t say anything until you’ve closed the gap to within striking distance of the other crew(s). This lets you focus solely on whatever’s going on with your boat without having to worry about the chaos around you (which honestly isn’t a bad thing).

That approach came out of a conversation my freshman year after my novice eight (predictably) fell pretty far behind our three varsity boats while doing pieces. I remember it being one of the few times where I said “I don’t know what to say” and my crew gave me a ton of ideas and feedback that we trial and error-ed over the next few practices to figure out a strategy that worked. That boat was made up of a bunch of two and three-sport athletes so to capitalize on our strength there was a lot of focus put on bending the oars (as long as our technique was good … our coaches drilled into us that that always came first).

This in turn became our rallying point. If we fell back we’d refocus on our technique – I made a lot of loose, breathe, relax, focus, sharp, together, etc. calls – and once we had that on lock I’d make the call to “bend and send”. The pick up and surge that resulted from that call was incredible – it was like lighting the afterburners. If we were half a length down when I made that call we could easily get even within ten strokes and then from there it was back to “regular” race-mode.

Coxing from behind isn’t something you want to have to do but I guarantee you’ll spend more time doing that over the course of your career than you will as the crew out front. You don’t want to find yourself in that situation and not know how to manage it though (because it all comes back to execution and management) so spend time discussing those “what if’s” with your crew so you can establish your Plan B, C, D, etc., as well as the calls you’ll make to get you back on track. For us, it was “bend and send”. By no means was it a “magic” call (there were times when it didn’t work) but it was well thought out, well rehearsed, and positive (in a non-cheesy way) and that was what made it the catalyst to making our “comebacks” effective.

Image via // @washingtonrowing
Race Skills: Race warmups

Coxing Racing

Race Skills: Race warmups

First, if you don’t already have a watch – get one. Go to Walmart, Target, or Amazon and get one of those super basic sport watches that cost like $10-$15. I had one in high school that I stored on my cox box (after practice I’d take it off and attach it to the wrist strap) and the only time I wore it was on race day. Your phone is not an acceptable substitute. It’s just not. (And if you really need me to explain why, come to the Sparks camp this summer and see how long it takes before Marcus jumps on your ass for not having your hands completely free. That should clear it up pretty quick.)

Time management is an essential skill for coxswains and there is no day where that is more apparent than on race day. Prior to that, you should know the following:

How long it takes to do your land warmup

(Roughly) how long it takes to walk from where your trailer is to where the docks are

How long it takes to execute your warmup on the water

How long it takes to the get from the launch site to the starting line.

How many minutes prior to the start of the race you need to be locked on

When I’m coxing, the pre-race warmup unofficially starts about 20 minutes before we meet to do our land warmup. Few things piss me off more on race day than having to run around the site trying to round up rowers like a bunch of blind, deaf sheep so 20 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes, and 2 minutes before our planned start time I’ll say “X minutes til’ we start the warmup”, “last call, we’re starting in 2 minutes”, etc. This prevents a situation where I’m trying to get started and people aren’t ready because they’re changing, running to the bathroom, groggy from their nap, etc. I have enough to worry about so even though it’s still my responsibility to make sure everyone is in the same place at the same pre-discussed time, giving those countdown reminders takes a lot of pressure off of me because if someone is late, I know there’s at least 6-7 other people who will have my back and say “…she said we were meeting several times, you shouldn’t have waited til the last minute to [do whatever].”.

If you’re at a big regatta (IRAs, Youth Nats, Stotesbury, Sprints, etc.) where there’s a lot of crews waiting to launch from only a couple docks, you’ve gotta account for that wait time so you don’t end up having to rush to get up to the starting line. If you’re one of the early races or are one of the first few after the lunch break you won’t have to worry about this but if you’re racing in the mid-late morning or anytime in the afternoon, this is something to keep in mind.

Usually about an hour before our meet-up time I’d go scope out the launch site and ask the officials if things were running on time, if we should consider getting in line a little sooner, etc. If things had been going smooth so far then we’d maintain the same schedule but if it looked like there was already a line forming or there were novice/freshman events before ours (they are notoriously slow AF) then they’d recommend coming down 10ish minutes sooner than we’d originally planned, that way if we had to wait it wouldn’t impact our warmup plans.

Practicing your race-warmup during the week will help you determine roughly how much time it’ll take for you to get through everything you have planned. Ours, for example, tend to take between 30 and 35 minutes with the important stuff being the practice starts – we usually try to get in at least three at half pressure + half speed, 3/4 pressure + 3/4 speed, and 90% 5 + 5 + 5.

Flexibility and adaptability are two other key parts of being a good race-day coxswain because there will definitely be times when you either aren’t able to complete your entire warmup or you finish early, get stuck on the water, etc. and have to add something in order to keep the crew warm (in the “warm up” sense and also in the sense that if it’s cold out you don’t want to just be sitting there not moving). Adding stuff is always easy because you can just do light steady state at 18-20spm until it’s time to go … it’s cutting the warmup down that is hard.

If Plan A is your ideal warmup (say 35 minutes) then you need to also have a Plan B (if time constraints limit you to 20-25 minutes) and a Plan C (45 minutes) as your contingency plans. These are things that you should go over with your coach well in advance of race day too, that way you can establish what the crew can do without so you’re not just arbitrarily doing some things and not others.

A few other tips/reminders:

If possible, do the bulk of your warmup in the opposite direction of the course and the starts, power bursts, etc. alongside the course.

This isn’t possible everywhere but when you do have the chance to do it it can give you a good feel for how the conditions will effect the boat when you’re moving at race pace. (Pay attention when the officials are going over the traffic pattern during the coaches and coxswains meeting so you’ll know if you can do this or not.)

Time permitting I always try to get in at least one start in our lane before locking on, that way I can get an idea for what it’ll feel like and if I need to make an adjustment to my calls to account for that (i.e. if it’s choppy then I’ll try to incorporate in more “clean”, “down and away”, etc. type calls).

Related: What happens at a coaches and coxswains meeting?

99% of the time the officials want you locked on two minutes prior to the start of your race, which means you should be in the staging area at least 10-12 minutes beforehand.

I’ve been to a handful of races where we had to be locked on three minutes or five minutes prior but two minutes is standard. Just being in your lane doesn’t count as being locked on either, even if you’re backing it down and are six inches away from the stake boat when they call “two minutes to the start”. If the conditions are poor and you know it’s going to take some time to get into the stake boats, pointed, etc. then you must account for that during your warmup. You can’t afford to waste time on a good day, let alone on a day when it’s windy.

Also, if you’re finishing up your warmup by doing starts in your lane, don’t try to do “just one more” or do a full start, 20, and settle so that you end up 250m away from the stake boats. A crew did this when I raced at Oak Ridge one year and we started the race without them … like, five of us were locked on ready to go and she was still trying to back it down (from 200m away) after deciding to do a start with three minutes to go. They protested, they lost, and that coxswain (whose team was in the tent next to ours) got reamed by her coach after the race.

Related: How to enter stake boats (also here) and how NOT to enter stake boats

Do a race walk-through a day or two before you race.

Fridays are our race walk-through days, which is exactly what it sounds like … the coxswains run the crew through the race warmup on their own before meeting up with the coaches and hitting the high points of the race along the course. This usually takes about 35 minutes to complete.

Having a chance to run through the warmup uninterrupted is an important part of your race prep so if it’s not something you’ve discussed or practiced during the week (i.e. it’s not a regular part of your schedule like ours is), speak up before the start of practice, ask what it is if you’re unsure (like at the beginning of the season, you’re new in the boat, etc.), and then go through it as part of that day’s warmup. It can be easy for coaches to forget to talk with the coxswains about that stuff so take the initiative and say something if they haven’t.

Once you get into the season and your training becomes more race-focused (like, right now…) you should be running through your race warmup at least once a week (either on your own or at the coach’s instruction). Just like anything else you practice, the more familiar you are with it and the more consistently you run through it the calmer and more focused you (and the crew) will be on race day.

Image via // @petereed

College Coxing How To Racing Video of the Week

Video of the Week: How not to enter stake boats

Urban Dictionary defines a shit show as “A description of an event or situation which is characterized by an ridiculously inordinate amount of frenetic activity. Disorganization and chaos to an absurd degree. Often associated with extreme ineptitude/incompetence and or sudden and unexpected failure.”. See also: the video above.

Related: Stake boat tips and tricks

Just gonna take this opportunity to share this post linked above on getting into stake boats, as well as this post on other how to scull your bow around (linked below) so that you don’t find yourself in the same situation as this coxswain.

Related: How to scull your bow around

This is … well, embarrassing, obviously … but bigger than that, it’s a pretty big indication that somewhere along the line there was a major failure on the part of the coaches to ensure the UCSD coxswain was properly prepared when it comes to getting into stake boats. Being late to the line (which they must have been given that everyone else looks like they’re already locked on) probably didn’t help either.

Related: Coxswain skills: Race Steering

Also, given the entanglement that happened pretty much immediately after the start, check out that race steering post too for a refresher on how to hold the cables, steering straight off the line, etc.

Coxswain Skills: Race Steering

Coxing How To Racing

Coxswain Skills: Race Steering

Previously: Steering, pt. 1 || Steering, pt. 2  || Boat feel || How to handle a negative coxswain eval || How to cox steady state workouts || How to cox short, high intensity workouts

It’s officially racing season which means your steering is going to be under heavy scrutiny for the next ten weeks. If you steer a straight course you’re not going to get any recognition (and if you do it’s minimal) but any slight deviation towards one buoy line or the other will likely draw the ire of your rowers and/or your coach, depending on their vantage point. You’ve got a lot of “number one” jobs on race day but steering straight is THE number one priority of all your “number one” priorities so make sure it’s a skill you’re honing every day at practice.

Related: How to steer an eight

Steering during a race is, for the most part, exactly the same as steering on any regular day, at least in my opinion. There are very few things I do differently and the things I am doing differently are simply a result of my heightened levels of awareness. One of the hallmarks of steering is that the speed in which the hull responds to the rudder is directly proportional to the speed of the hull itself. The faster you’re going, the faster it’s going to respond to you making adjustments which means that your adjustments have to be that much smaller in order to avoid oversteering and serpentining your way down the course.

Related: Coxswain skills: Steering, pt. 1

One thing that helps avoid oversteering is making sure you’re holding the strings correctly. Don’t just grip them with your full fist like you’re holding a broom handle or something – you’ve got to ground yourself in some way to the boat otherwise you’re not going to know when you’re making conscious adjustments or when your hands (and in turn, the rudder) are reacting to the boat surging, falling off keel, etc.

This is how I grip the strings when I’m coxing. I didn’t do it here because it would have been impossible to take the picture but in addition to positioning my fingers like this, I also hook my pinkies over the gunnels. This forces me to make millimeter adjustments at a time and nothing more, which is great for when we’re doing straight-shot pieces or I’m racing. If I want/need to make a larger adjustment then I have to take my pinkies off the gunnels and since 99.9% of my steering these days is auto-pilot, that conscious movement of moving my finger  “wakes me up” to the fact that I’m steering and forces me to evaluate why I’m doing it.

(During a regular practice I don’t hook my pinkies unless we’re doing pieces, mainly because I have small hands and it’s uncomfortable stretching my finger like that for an hour and a half. If you’re working on limiting how much you hit the rudder though you should spend more time with your pinkies hooked than unhooked.)

That aside, it’s time to think about how steering is integrated into your race plan. The most trouble you’re going to have with steering during a race is going to come in the first 3-5 strokes and this is usually a result of sloppy bladework by the rowers. If they’re trying to muscle the boat off the line instead of taking clean, crisp strokes then the boat is going to be offset and your point will get thrown off.

Related: In regards to steering during a sprint race, do you recommend using the tiller to steer or having the ports/starboards row with more pressure for a stroke or two in order to maintain a straight point?

If conditions are poor (wind, chop, etc.) then this will only exacerbate the amount of steering you’ve gotta do. The only way to try to avoid having this happen is to practice your starts and make sure those first few strokes are clean and together before you add the power in the fourth and fifth stroke. The calls you make here should emphasize this too.

We have a five-stroke start and last year our varsity coxswain would call it as “pry, complete, complete, accelerate, go“, where “pry” = light on the seats, pick the boat up out of the water, “complete” = hold the finishes, complete the strokes (aka don’t get so amped that you’re just throwing water around), “accelerate” = start adding power, and “go” = full commitment with the legs, time to haul on it. The more time you spending getting those first five strokes down (or however long your start is), the easier it’ll be on race day to get off the line with minimal touches on the rudder.

Don’t be afraid to tell the rowers too that the cleaner the start the less you’ll have to steer off the line. I’ve said this numerous times but I have no problem telling my crew that if they want me to not steer during a race then I expect them to take good, clean strokes so I don’t have to steer. I’ll take full responsibility for the other 195ish strokes but they’ve gotta work with me on the first five. I know I can hold a straight point without thinking about it so the less distracted I am by having to think about where I’m going, the more I can focus on executing the race plan.

The last thing to think about is the buoys, assuming the course you’re on has them. I’ve touched on how to get a point on buoyed courses before but ultimately it’s up to you to figure out what strategy works best for you. Some coxswains rely on their peripheral vision to maintain an even spacing between the shell and the buoys on either side of them, others focus on where the buoys converge on the horizon (aka their stroke’s head) and just aim straight towards that.

Related: Hi! Since the spring races all start boats at the same time, do you have any tips on steering straight? I can tell when I’m veering off my lane, but for some reason, I can’t/don’t know how to fix it! I remember you saying it’s all about the small adjustments, then straightening out, but I can’t seem to get it. [Ex today: all 3 boats lined up, me on the outside, I end up too far out away from the other 2]. Tips? Thanks!

There is no right or wrong strategy so utilize the time you have to practice on the course (if you have any) to see which one is easier for you. The first time I steered a buoyed course my coach told me to just go out and steer like I would if there weren’t buoys there and this allowed me to do whatever came naturally when it came to holding a point rather than explicitly focusing on where the buoys converged or where they were on either side of me in relation to the shell.

Not having buoys, while annoying, isn’t the end of the world. Like I said at the beginning, the only differences in my steering on race day is that I’m more aware of and subtle about my adjustments. That’s basically the “trick” for steering on an un-buoyed course. Grip the strings like I showed earlier, pick a point off the starting line (or aim at the markers at the end of the course if there are any – i.e. on the Charles there are 8ft tall lime green markers strapped to the trees on the Boston side across from the BU boathouse), and only make millimeter adjustments as necessary or as dictated by the weather conditions/bladework.

Image via // @rowingcelebration

Racing Video of the Week

Video of the Week: “You are gonna fucking beat them, you hear me?”

This week’s video isn’t embeddable so click here to check it out. Whenever the “which race is the best race ever” conversation pops up, everyone always talks about the men’s pair race from 2000 (I think) when the French pair started sprinting at like, 750m, but this race puts that one to shame.

Related: Katelin Snyder coxswain recordings

Make sure you’ve got headphones or are somewhere quiet so you can listen closely to Katelin’s calls, particularly around the 6:15ish mark.