Tag: motivation

Coxing Novice Q&A Teammates & Coaches

Question of the Day

Hi! I’m a novice rower and asking for advice concerning my coxswain. She doesn’t get really fired up during races and falls back on just correcting our technique when we really need motivation. Anything you know that helps? We’re a girls team btw.

Have you talked to her about this? Does she know that it bothers you guys when she only focus on technique and doesn’t give any motivation? If you haven’t it’s possible that she doesn’t know there’s a problem.

Whenever you go out and do a piece, ask her if she can throw in some more motivational calls and then give her some specifics – tell her exactly what you (and the rest of the boat) want to hear. Explain that technical calls are really helpful at the beginning but as the race goes on, you need more motivation because as you get more tired it starts to feel like you can’t go on and you NEED someone pushing you and telling you that you can. Hopefully she’ll listen to you and try and throw in some more motivational calls – if she does, acknowledge that. At the end of a piece or after practice, say thank you and that you really appreciated her trying to throw in some new calls. Tell her that it really helped and ask if she can keep doing that.

Another thing you could do is have the other girls in your boat write down one or two things they want to hear and then give that list to her so she can read it. It’s possible that she knows what to say but just gets overwhelmed or forgets, so perhaps seeing it right in front of her will help remind her of things to say. You could also find a recording or two that you like (check the “recordings” tag on here and you’ll find some sprinkled through various posts) and then send her a link to it. Say that you came across these and really like how the coxswain does this or that or whatever and could she maybe try something similar the next time you go out. If she’s a novice like you, she’s still learning how to do this whole “steer-cox-think about 90430943 things a minute” thing, so maybe having one of the varsity coxswains talk to her might help. Ask them if they’d mind giving her a couple pointers on things to say during races, specifically relating to motivational calls.

Asking coxswains to do something is a little like herding blind cats sometimes … it can be hard because coxswains are usually stubborn and typically don’t like being told what to do. Be nice when you talk to her. Don’t all come at her at once with pitchforks and accuse her of not listening to you or of sucking as a coxswain. Talk about it one day after practice and see what happens.

How to Survive Winter Training: The light at the end of the tunnel

How To Rowing Teammates & Coaches Training & Nutrition

How to Survive Winter Training: The light at the end of the tunnel

Previously: Rowers || Coxswains || Music + TV

Lately I’ve gotten a couple emails and questions about how to make it through the winter season mentally in tact so I figured that was enough to warrant its own post. I wrote this with those in mind whose teams aren’t doing anything organized over the winter but the more I wrote, the more I realized that this is really for everyone. There’s going to be a point during the winter when everyone is going to have that “blah” feeling, so even if you are lucky enough to have your coaches and teammates around you on a daily basis, this is for you too. I reference a lot of college-y stuff too – that’s just out of habit. This is most definitely for high schoolers, in addition to collegiate rowers. And coxswains, don’t think that this doesn’t apply to you either. Just because we aren’t necessarily following a training program like the rowers doesn’t mean we can’t still experience that drop in motivation over the winter.

What do you do when you’re on your own? When your team has closed up shop for the winter and your training is up to you? When your motivation is at an all time low because all you can see in front of you are four long months of erging, lifting, and the proverbial lack of light at the end of the tunnel…

You sit down and you think about three things. One, why did you join this sport? Two, what do you want to get out of it? Three, where do you want to be in five months when spring season is in full swing? Think about your answers. REALLY think about them. None of this “I joined because of my friends, I want to have fun and compete, I want to be on the podium” bullshit. That answer is OK for runners and swimmers and basketball players. No. YOU are a rower. You can’t be in this sport if you can’t come up with more complex, more REAL answers than that. THINK. What are you here for?  Once you’ve answered those questions, look at yourself again. Think about the common thread between all three of your answers. It’s the same, no matter what your answer is or who you are or what team you row for or whether you’ve been rowing for three months or three years. Know what it is?

Hard. Fucking. Work.

You wouldn’t have joined this sport if you weren’t ready for the hours of commitment each day or the amount of physical exertion it required. You wouldn’t have joined this sport if you didn’t have goals and expectations for yourself. You wouldn’t be HERE right now, getting ready for spring season, if you didn’t want MORE. Hard work prepared you for it and hard work is going to get you through it. The work never stops. If you’ve lost your motivation, there comes a time when you realize you need to find it again if that hard work is going to continue. That time is now. I’ve gone through many periods of lost motivation over the last few years and each time I look back on those periods I realize that it comes down to three simple things:

Related: Words.

I don’t think I can do it, so why bother trying … I don’t know what I want, so do I even want anything … I have no direction, so what am I even doing all of this for…

For most people, I think these are the three main reasons why we lose our drive. With rowing, if you spent the fall season frustrated by your erg scores, splits, spot in the boat, etc. it can weigh on you and make you lose confidence in yourself. If your focus is all over the place to the point where everything is a blur, it’ll make you wonder if you really want anything at all. If you don’t know what you’re training for, it’s hard to get started because there isn’t anything tangible to latch your motivation onto (yet). Remember how I said there comes a time when you have to find your motivation again and that time is now? I mean it. That time is RIGHT fucking now. Look in the mirror and tell the person looking back at you to get their shit together. It’s time to get serious. It’s time to figure out what you want and how you’re going to get it.

Why did you join this sport?

You joined this sport because you wanted a challenge. Sure, the allure of a new sport was there but you were really in it for the adrenaline rush. That feeling of pushing your body to the brink, of knowing what the brink felt like. You stuck with it because you felt that adrenaline running through you when the official dropped the flag and you realized in that moment that you don’t ever want to NOT feel like this. You stuck with it because you know your body still has more to give, that you haven’t pushed yourself hard enough yet, that you can go harder.

What do you want to get out of it?

People start rowing with a lot of “wants”. They want to get in shape, they want to win … that’s fine. No sarcasm. It shows you have goals and like with life, it’s hard to move forward if you don’t know what you’re moving towards. As your rowing progresses, your goals are going to evolve. Like you, they’ll mature. They’ll go from “wanting to win” to “placing in the top 3 of the Grand Final at Dad Vails”, from “wanting to lose weight” to “increasing your squat PR by 45lbs by the end of the season”. You might not know what those goals are yet (which is why most people start to lose motivation when December rolls around) so you have to set new ones. It’s like New Year’s resolutions, except better, because you’ll actually stick to these.

Take some time and really think about what you want for yourself this year. Put your team and your boat aside for a moment and think about YOU. Grab a calendar for each month from now until the end of your season. Sit down and think about what your goals are and when you want to achieve them by. Goals can be ANYTHING – hence why they’re personal goals. Remember to make them tangible, relevant, and something that is genuinely attainable with the proper amount of work and commitment.

Now that you have that written down, think about how you’re going to attain each goal. What’s it going to take? What are you going to have to do over the next few months (potentially on your own with no outside motivation) to make sure those goals are met? Make a list and hang it and the calendar up somewhere where you are going to see it each day. I mean it – every day. A day should not go by over the next few months that you don’t see those two pieces of paper. As the days go by and you begin meeting your goals, cross them off.

As the season progresses, your goals might change or need to be modified. That’s OK. It’s not a sign of failure, AS LONG AS you aren’t changing them simply because you weren’t putting the effort in to meet the original ones. The goal of this goal-setting is to give yourself something to work WITH and something to work TOWARDS.

Where do you want to be once spring season is in full swing

 This is a question that most people think there’s only one answer to – “I want to be on the dock in Worcester getting a Sprints medal.” Awesome, but no. Mentally, where do you want to be? You want to be in that place, that place that only athletes know. That place that is the most evil and beautiful combination of tranquility and intensity where you can feel yourself getting stronger, mentally and physically, as you start knocking down walls, brick by fucking brick.

Psychologically, you want to be 100% sure of the fact that you spent the entire winter busting your ass to get to where you are right now. You don’t want to get back on the water in March wishing you’d erged more over the winter or be about to seat race in April wishing you’d gone to those optional lifts – you want to KNOW that you did exactly what you needed to do and THEN some. Remember what I said about attitude? Prime example, right here. Your mentality is everything and the one you have when you wake up each morning can make or break you.

Now that you’ve got the “whys, whats, and wheres” figured out, it’s time to figure out the “whos”, “hows”, and “whens”. The “who” is that person that is going to be there to push you, to motivate you, to kick your ass when you can’t kick it yourself, to tell you that you deserve it, you want it, you’ve worked for it, and it’s yours to take. I am a firm believer in always being there for yourself before you’re there for anyone else, so the first person on your list of “who” should be you. Sometimes you’ve got to split yourself in two so that the part of you that wants to give up can be pushed by the part of you that has their eyes on the prize or so that the part of you that always knew you could do it can congratulate the part of you that just did it. Whoever comes next on your list is up to you. Parents, friends, teammates, siblings, coaches, mentors, teachers, significant others, etc. – it doesn’t matter who they are.

Next, the “hows”. How are you going to make it through the next five months? Through the next 5k? Through the next lifting session? Through the next run? Simple. One day, one stroke, one lift, and one step at a time. Don’t look at it as being the same day, stroke, lift, or step all the time … it’s one at a time. If you made it through the last one, you will make it through this one. Confidence and assurance in yourself will get you through winter training. Know how each part of your winter training is going to affect you when you’re in the boat. Those squats, deadlifts, leg presses, and jumpies? They’re all building up your leg muscles so you can explode off the stretchers at the top quarter of the slide.

Every time you do one of those exercises, think about that. When you do the second set that is 10lbs heavier than the first and you feel like you can’t get through one rep, let alone ten, think about the start of your race at NCAAs in May. Think about the final sprint against Harvard, Brown, and Washington at IRAs. Think about that move in the middle of a race, the one your coxswain saves for just the right moment. You want to build up as much strength as you can for THOSE moments. Don’t think about how sore you are from the bench pulls and pull ups you did yesterday – think about how happy you’re going to feel when you’re sore in May but you’ve got a medal around your neck to show for it. Remember, you’re stronger than you were yesterday, but not as strong as you will be tomorrow.

There are two outcomes to winter training, both relating to how you feel. You can either feel proud, encouraged, motivated, and strong or you can feel disappointed and “meh”. How much effort you put into training is going to effect how you feel when the winter season ends. We both know which one you should be aiming for, so … how are you going to go about getting there?

Finally, the “whens”. Finals, holidays, and life all get in the way of training if we let it. Don’t take that as saying rowing should be a higher priority than all of those – theoretically it shouldn’t but in reality, to some, it probably is. Priorities are good. It’s up to you to look at your schedule, look at your activities, etc. and figure out your order of priorities. Where does training fit in? Even if your coach doesn’t give you a set schedule for the winter, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have one. One of the best ways to make sure you stick to your training is to schedule a specific time every single day when you’re going to erg, run, bike, lift, etc. Treat that block of time like you would class – you wouldn’t skip or schedule something during a lecture, so why would you do that during your scheduled practice period?

Now some of you are probably thinking, “um, hi, we’re in college – of course we’re going to skip class.” I know you are. I did. But think about this scenario for a second – the first few weeks of class are always boring and you don’t really learn much but then there are those few occasions where the midterm or the final rolls around and you’re thinking to yourself “DAMMIT. I should have gone to those first few lectures…”. Sure, you might end up doing OK on the exam but think about how much better you would have done if you’d gone to all 15 lectures instead of just 10. Your races are your exams, conference championships are your midterms, and NCAAs are your finals. Sure, you might do alright if you go to 30 winter training sessions, but imagine how much more you could have achieved if you’d gone to all 50. Make a schedule and stick to it. The benefit of winter training, especially on your own, is that the times are usually way less strict than they are during the fall and spring. Your coach might give you the workouts and say “do this on Monday, this on Tuesday, etc.” but on your own time. If you don’t want to wake up at 5:30am to go to the gym during the winter, then don’t. Doing so doesn’t mean you’re more committed just like not doing so doesn’t mean you’re less committed. Find a time that works for you and stick to it. That’s all that really matters.

You’re a rower, which means we can assume a lot of things about you. One is that you’re a team player. You’re someone’s teammate. Rowing is not an individual’s sport – you simply cannot be an individual and be a part of a crew. Even if you’re a sculler in a single, it can’t be done. Why? Because your team has goals. Your team wants to win the overall points trophy. Your team wants to be the first three time defending champion at Junior Nationals. That can’t be accomplished if even one person thinks about “me” instead of “us”.

If motivation for yourself is ever lacking , take a second and think about your team. Think about how your performance is going to directly effect the eight other people in your boat and the 54 other people on your team. Don’t be that teammate that slacks off and thinks they can get away with it by “pulling hard”. There’s one on every team and it doesn’t take long to figure out who it is.

Before you go on Christmas break, sit down with your boat or your team and figure out what the preliminary goals are for the spring. Look at past results from regattas and determine where you’re capable of placing this year. Set team goals for weight lifting (a 1RM squat average of 200lbs for the boat), 2ks (everyone under 7:35), etc. Add these goals to your calendar so you see them along with your own goals. Work towards them with the same intensity as you are your own and know that everyone else in your boat is working towards those same goals. They’re just as tired and sore as you are right now, but in five months, would you want to share the podium with someone who isn’t tired and sore? No. You are not nine individuals, you are ONE eight. Remember that.

Winter training is a psychological battleground to see who’s willing to put the effort in on the days when they don’t want to. It’s a test of discipline and doing what you know needs to be done when you don’t want to do it. You will make it through and you will be a stronger person when you make it to the other side. Keep your chin up – you got this.

Image via // @cuse_mrowing
An Irresistible Pull

College Novice Rowing Teammates & Coaches Training & Nutrition

An Irresistible Pull

I found this a few months ago and thought it was a great story, as well as good motivation. There’s definitely a lot parallels to be drawn between it and most of our own rowing careers.

During freshman week, he saw his first racing shell.  The crew captain was recruiting and stepped forward to introduce him to it.  The magnificent lines of the shell seemed perfectly sculpted.  How could a boat be so beautiful and narrow, the freshmen thought.  The captain said it was 64 feet long and held eight men.  The freshman noticed the captain’s weathered face and his developed quadriceps.  When they shook hands, the freshman felt the captain’s calluses.  Come row, the captain said.

The freshman went to the boathouse and tried it.  His first float onto the river filled his with pleasure.  He assessed the world from his sliding seat.  The river was wide and gray.  His coach told him that soon he would learn every turn of it.  He liked the idea of being a river man but knew little of what it meant.

He began long rows, experiencing the yoke of the river.  When he pulled hard, his car dove too deep into the currents.  He concentrated on rhythm.  The coxswain banged the stroke count on the gunnels.  Slowly, he learned to pull with power.  Afternoon practices ended in early darkness.  Half the freshmen quit, in doubt.  The captain said everyone must pull harder.

At Christmas, he shook his father’s hand and his father commented on his blisters.  He tried to talk about rowing but his tongue grew swollen and dull.

In April, the skim ice buckled the shoreline.  His boat was launched in light snow.  The varsity shaved their heads and wore T-shirts.  At spring break, he stayed for double practice.  His legs were always tired.  In sleep, he dreamed uneasily about water, of the river scrolling by.

His family came to the first race.  They stood a mile and a quarter from the start.  Because of a bend in the river, they only saw the last 20 strokes.  In victory, they thought it looked easy.  Two men vomited.  The freshman’s sister said she would never come again.  He threw the coxswain into the river, and the shirt that he wagered he collected from the opposition.  It was washed in collegiate sweat.  It was the finest trophy he had ever seen, and he wore it for a week.

Sophomore year, only six of his boat returned.  He was still green, and the competition was greater.  He, too, thought of quitting. He still resisted the river and blamed her when it hurt.  He imagined that his face looked troubled.  He wondered how much more he could give.  He saw the upperclassmen pull hard, sometimes even with pleasure.  He didn’t know what he was learning, but he suspected the lesson was patience.

In the junior year he rowed on the varsity.  They wagered and won many shirts.  He accepted the equation of practice to victory.  He grew mature about pain and work.  He saw the river as a strict teacher, helping him grow stronger.  His technique was exemplary.  But he did not row to win.  He rowed for a motion called swing.  In swing, he found a clearing to rise above grueling circumstances.  He suspected it was transcendental, where life became more than it seemed.  He suspected that if he got to know this clearing, he could find it again, away from the river.

He started his last year aware of an ending.  He went to the gym during freshman week and stood by a new shell with his quadriceps bulging.  His lobster hands engulfed the hands of recruits.  He was tanned and ready.  He was cordial but did not try to tell them why he rowed.  Instead, he explained the boat and the river.

In his fourth fall, he was bored.  He became intrigued with the perfect stroke.  His roommate studied physics, so they spent a week diagramming torque.  They discussed an oar’s effect on ultimate boat speed.  They placed values on leg drive and arm strength, and he graphed the motion on paper.  He was tested for body fat and had almost none.  He was training harder than ever because he could not do less.  The river was ever-changing, but he trusted her mass.  He saw a picture of the Harvard crew in Sports Illustrated, and wondered about the Olympics.  Then he looked at the seven-man and wanted his shirt.

His boat was chosen to win the league.  They won races but the swing was elusive.  He sensed that there was a struggle in the bow seats, but nothing was said.  His coach studies the ancient Greeks.  The motto of the boathouse was When dying, die in virtue.  But first, they were taught to endure.  Then they could die.  Of the two, enduring seemed more difficult.

Before his last race, the river was brown and foaming.  In a practice start the bowman crabbed his oar, throwing the boat to port.  He heard the strike to the bowman’s ribs.

They drifted in the current, waiting.  They had bet shirts, winners take all.  The opponents rowed by to impress them.  He stared at the seven-man, measuring the size of his shirt, a tall basketball washout from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.

A race is six minutes.  Thus, a season is thirty-six minutes.  But he had practiced two hours a day, from September to June.  When icicles dripped from the oar locks, they went to Florida to row double sessions.  In addition, he ran stadium steps, lifted weights, and practiced in the tanks.  It seemed a dismal, inequitable equation.

Before the start, his stomach hurt.  He eased up the slide, legs sprung.  He heard the ripping of the water.  Waiting was harder than pulling, harder to contain.  His heart, which had strained to starting commands for four seasons, pounded for the gun.  When the pistol cracked he lashed out in relief.

At 500 meters the race was even and he longed for swing.  The starting sprint was over, but the coxswain had kept the cadence too high.  The boat struggled, not yet fluid.  He knew fatigue came in stages, but there was already too much in his legs.  Steadily, he shadowed the stroke before him.  His ears filled with static.  He wondered if the bowman was pulling.

At a thousand meters the coxswain wanted more.  At each catch the boat jumped, and he felt awake, lightened.  They responded-all eight-with legs and backs in symphonic motion.  The coxswain rapped the gunnels, sounding the beat with his hands.  He wanted more lead-another deck length-but the rowers only wanted rhythm, to hold the cadence, to extend their pleasure.

At the 1500-meter mark, there was a wake.  The boat twisted to port; and in a moment, they felt the swing depart.

With new pain, he searched the shoreline for clues.  How much farther?  How much longer?  How much more?  The stroke gasped to raise the beat by two; but slipping, it only went one.  His legs were gone, his back burned, his throat was numb.

With 20 strokes to go, he heard another coxswain yell that they were dying.  He thanked him, needing anger to penetrate his numbness.  He began counting but thought that 20 was too far.  He told himself to quit at ten-quit the race, quit rowing.  He was in deep suffering.  He once dreamed of falling off bridges in locked cars.  He was now back in the river, on the bottom; the inexorable swim to the surface was far.

On the eighth stroke, he heard his raspy coxswain, hoarse from a season’s yelling, calling his men to their oars.  The voice without panic.  It reminded him of his connection with the others.  He renegotiated with his legs, which hurt the most.  He asked his heart for tolerance, his back to bend.

He counted each stroke to the finish.  He felt his own last surge, making the oar shaft bend.

They drifted to regain their breathing.  Their coach yelled that they had won by a foot.  They wondered when, in their years on the river, they had learned to go that much faster.

At the dock, a small crowd was cheering.  After throwing in the coxswain, then the coach, the oarsmen quickly jumped in.  Himself, he floated in the brisk current, looking at his family on the bank.  The water was cold beneath the surface, but he barely felt it.  He was certain that this race was his last, then he thought better of it.

Image via // @benrodfordphoto

High School Novice Q&A Rowing

Question of the Day

So I know you mostly get questions from coxswains but do ya think you could riddle me this? I’m a high school rower (started last winter) so technically I’m still a novice but since the beginning of summer I’ve been rowing varsity. I absolutely love the sport but I sometimes feel a bit intimidated by the fact that I’m constantly racing girls older than me! I’m only 15 and most of the girls I race & row with are getting ready to head off to college! Any advice on how to face the competition?

That’s great that you’re rowing varsity if you’ve only been rowing for less than a year. If anything, the girls that you’re racing should be intimidated by you since you’re most likely 2-3 years younger than them. You’ve clearly done the work and proven to your coaches that you can handle the responsibility of being a varsity rower so own it.

Be a leader in your boat. Don’t assume that just because you’re younger than everyone else that that is the persona you need to take on. Speak up, offer your opinion (when the time is appropriate), get everyone started on stretches if your coaches/coxswains aren’t around, and be coachable. Always offer to take oars down, wash the boat, etc. ACT like the varsity teammate you are instead of trying to hide in the background because you’re intimidated by the other girls. Whether or not they let it on, the girls that are graduating are going to worry just a little bit about what the state of the team will be when they leave. If you start proving yourself as a strong leader and good teammate now, not only will you gain so much respect from them, the other rowers on the team, and your coaches, but you will offer them reassurance that the team will THRIVE in your hands. This will result in them embracing you as a teammate rather than just acknowledging your existence in the boat.

When you’re racing, don’t worry about those other crews. If you’ve done everything you need to do to prepare, you’re going to be looking at their backs going down the course, not the other way around. You never know, there might be novice rowers in those varsity boats too. Hold your head high, keep your chin up, and maintain that look of determination in your eyes. If you do that, they will be just as intimidated by you as you are of them right now. It’s all about attitude. What have you observed about the girls on your team and the teams you race? What does their body language convey, both on and off the water? What’s their rowing like? Emulate that!! When you’re on the water, FOCUS. Concentrate on working to perfect everything you do during practice each day. Be able to pick out two to three things that got better by the end of practice. Push yourself. Don’t settle for anything. Always strive for MORE. The only thing you should be intimidated by is the expectations you have set for yourself. If you’re not intimidated by your goals and expectations, you haven’t set the bar high enough.