Racing

Hey well done to Mary Mortimer from Putney Town Rowing Club in London, UK who won her age category at Weybridge Silver Sculls head race.

She has won an Individual Faster Masters training programme membership.

It's the Head of the Charles 2019 - my bucket list rowing event. Months and months of training, and poof! Over in a flash.

Three days back and there’s still much to process. I didn’t update during the regatta because I wanted to absorb the experience–and I needed to sleep at night.

I did make this short video, the 7 Days Countdown to HOCR. I wanted to capture everything that leads up to a race, plus the results.

Thursday

The first half of the trip went off with zero problems: Louisville to Laguardia Airport. Now that airport is a disaster. Poor signage, terrible food choices behind security, and one bathroom for 15+ gates?

My flight from Laguardia to Boston was cancelled. Not delayed. Cancelled, due to poor weather. The plane never left Boston. Luckily I saw “CANCELLED” flash on the screen before the gate attendant announced it. I rebooked on the app, getting the next flight out before it filled up, then scrambled to make sure my gate-checked luggage would be re-routed. Then I started wondering if the next flight would also be cancelled. How would I get to Boston before 9am? I started researching train and bus, just in case.

What a hot mess! Mom brain is real and I swear I’m losing it. In between this chaos, I temporarily lost my wallet. It happened when charging my phone. I guess my backpack wasn’t zipped all the way. When I put it on the counter, it flipped out over the sill. I didn’t see it, but neither did anyone else. 15 minutes of sheer panic once I realized it was gone. I could get to Boston–but how would I get home? How would I get money to eat? But I found it, the next plane did arrive (even if late) and I made it to Boston and my cousin Maggie’s about 9 p.m. Rode the bus with a youth team from Great Britain.

Friday

After a poor night’s sleep, I was excited to get to the racecourse. This time I rode a bus with Newport Aquatic Center youth. Their cox talked about heading to Vespoli, also my destination, so I followed them from the stop to the river. At that point, it was easy to figure out. Just follow all the other rower-type peoples heading for the water.

And holy bananas. Six docks? Streams of boats? Official merchandise? Yes! And I soon as I saw my friends from Florida, I teared up a little. For real, but out of joy. I’m here and this is happening!

Our practice row happened thanks to a sub from CRI, a lovely woman who was so encouraging and helpful. Thank you Sarah for stepping in so we could row!

Two doubles collided under Elliot and a men’s single flipped in front of Cambridge. And that was all in the first two minutes of our practice!

Conditions were windy and chilly, but not terrible. Hands tore up on the grips even with light hands. They happened to be my least favorite Concept2 grip, so I expected it. Overall, it felt like a solid row and it was nice to get the jitters out.

My Mom came to watch the races. We met up after practice, sipped some hot cider and walked around the venue scoping out the scene. It was nice to have her there to cheer us on and I got to wear my rowing nerd hat while explaining everything. “That’s HOCR headquarters, this is the last bridge, etc.”

Saturday: the Race

A beautiful, clear blue sky day. We never had the chance to row our 4+ line-up until race day.

We were hopeful for a top 11 finish. It seemed reasonable to me that we could be close to 11. 

I am super proud of how well I did mentally. There were some moments of jitters. In the morning, at my cousin’s place, getting ready. Laying out the uniform. Seeing a fellow rower on the transit. Standing by the river watching the other boats coming down. Hands on. Some dry mouth while rowing up. Hearing the announcer calling boats onto the course.

But overall, I didn’t lose it like I have in the past. I felt focused. Excited. I let go of the unknown and welcomed the experience. I was happy to be there, in that boat, with four other ladies who I knew had my back. It will be what it will be.

My hands were a big concern. I had the worst hot spots on the right hand bandaged, but worried about their staying power. Sure enough, one slipped off on the way up. But it turned out the bigger problem was the outside palm of my left hand. I The rotation had rubbed a section raw it was doing me no favors. n the rush to leave, I’d left my tape behind. Luckily 2-seat, Caitlin, had some surgical tape. It stayed on the whole race and saved my hand, I swear.

The race happened so fast, what I have left are fleeting moments.  I was so dialed in during the race I didn’t see the crowds on the sidelines, the banners on Elliot bridge, the enclosures, my family by Weeks.  Here’s the rundown of what I remember:

• Laughing at Hunting SZN. Because it actually is.
• My fellow starboard telling me I was responsible for powering us around those starboard turns. Me telling her if she left me hanging I’d feed her gluten. You’re welcome, Gallie! 
• It can be tense before a race starts so I came equipped with Halloween-themed jokes to tell right before our event started. 

Where do zombies like to row?

The Dead Sea!

• The announcer for the Men’s Naval Academy entry, event before ours: “U.S. Naval Academy: you are on the course. Have a good race and thank you for your service.”  So nice!

  

  On our way to the start…taken during an Elliot Bridge traffic jam.

• Seeing boat 21. Radcliffe Alumni. Um, yeah, those women are for REAL. 
• Start was so organized and the marshals were the nicest I’ve had for a head race.
• Getting chilled. Goosebumps on my legs from the wind, but not nerves. Proud of how calm I felt.
• I heard her say Sarasota Crew, but I can’t say if she said good luck or have a nice race. Just water rushing under the bow, breathing.
• Radcliffe, 21, charging right on us under the first bridge. I expected it. Not demoralized. Us yelling at Sarah, our cox, to yield over. Their cox yelling for us to yield. A moment of chaos and finally we give way.
• Focused on 22. Holding them off. Sometimes it seemed they were moving, then holding. Slowly creeping.
• Cox yelling at 14 to yield. Excited to pass. 
• 22 finds a second gear. They work their way by us. Using their momentum to push harder. 
• Getting internally mad at cox for asking for spilts from bow. Bow is busy. Bow is rowing. And it doesn’t matter! 
• Bridge.
• Bridge.
• A boat is creeping up on us.  Cox yelling at boat ahead of us. But this boat is trying to cut to our port. I’m listening for Bow to tell our cox about it. I hear nothing, but it’s loud. Noise from people, noise from the boat, noise from our cox. She is still yelling at someone else, and at us for power and steering. So much happening. Bridge is imminent. We’re turning, but we’re turning into the boat! Crap! Will they slow? No, they’re not! 

Panic! We’re going to hit! We’re under a bridge! Cox’n is yelling, and I’m screaming too, “POWER! POWER NOW!” and jamming it with everything I got, eyes glued not on stroke but the white bow surging forward and the sunglasses of their cox. I think stroke is yelling too, and we are standing on it—

Swoosh! Inches, they change course cutting to starboard and we cut to port. (Apparently, says our cox, the same thing was happening in her bow, which is why she was also yelling.)

 I was looking forward to row2k’s pictures to see how close this almost-collision was, but they posted nothing. Only one picture of our boat at all.

• Chaos is through. Cox is yelling about a boat 17. I tell Holly, “Come on, you and me, let’s go get ‘me.” 
• Steel drums from headquarters. 
• We don’t seem to be closing on 17, based on what I hear from cox. She’s demanding they yield, but it’s been a while.
• Telling Holly-You and me. Let’s get 17.
• Elliot Bridge. Let’s go, Holly, let’s get 17 before the line. Speed coming up.
• Rounding the bend. Hearing oars off the starboard. Cox yelling yield, yield, yield, at 17.
• Two strokes.
• And over. Turning to look. I was at 17’s stern. 16 was right behind them. Two passed us, we passed two, closing on two more. Relief.

The Aftermath

About fifty meters past the finish, we’re on the paddle when our cox’n says, “Hey, Texas, do you know Felicia?” Holly and I whipped our heads around, thinking about the same thing–”Oh my god, our cox’n did not just ‘Hey Felicia’ that boat”– but she quickly followed up with how she used to cox with some girl there and to say hi. Relief. Holly and I chuckled at that.

My right hand: as soon as we went on paddle and the race adrenaline wore off, I felt the damage. Light pressure on the right hand all the way back home. Strangers asked if I was in an alumni about because clearly I don’t row enough. I also turned down the offer of alcohol from the first aid station. Not a glutton for punishment.

Someone looked up the results. I don’t think it was me, but maybe. We were all disappointed to find ourselves at 17. A general, “really?” The row felt decent for a composite 4+, maybe a little messy near the end, but it came back together. If boat 17 had yielded, we probably would’ve been 16, as it was a 0.2 second difference.

I hoped for a better end, but the goal was experience. That we nailed 100%.  It was an awesome race. I enjoyed every second. I felt strong, I know I made a solid effort by how my muscles felt at the end, and I conquered those pesky inner demons. Triple win.

HOCR Impressions

• Wow! Talk about people! Never have I seen so many people at a rowing event: not World Championships 2017 or World Masters 2018. It was incredibly cool to have that many people packing the venue, the bridges, the riverbanks.
• Steel drums at a rowing festival? Mixed feelings about that.

  

  My Mom and cousin Maggie came to watch us race.

• Those bridges–loved the challenge of rowing through them! It broke up the course nicely.
• The only good collision I saw was a Princeton 4+ hitting a bridge, but I was pretty far away when it happened. We sat on Weeks for a long while and everyone expertly navigated through it.
• I know we lucked out on weather. What an amazing weekend to be outside, on and by the water!
• The warm-up erg section was seriously lacking in ergs. It may need a different system or maybe two stations by different dock areas. It seemed to be taken up by all youth when we were waiting to warm-up–but aren’t most youth events Sunday? We waited half-an-hour before giving up to run for warm-up.
• The food choices were slightly better at Weld than the Athletes’ Village. They need more diverse, less greasy options.
• I am disgruntled about a row2k article which referred to the morning races as, “When the under-card races were finished…” as in the Master’s and Alumni races. But that’s a topic for a different blog.

What’s next?

No rest for the weary. The Head of the Hooch is less than 10 days away and I’ve got three races including the single. I landed home Monday and

picked training back up on Tuesday.

It’ll be my second race ever in the 1x, the first being over six years ago. With the HOCR out of the way, there’s nothing to stop the mental wheels burning about the Women’s Master 1x, but I’ll save that for another time.

All was well. The house, quiet. Lights, dark. Bed, cozy and warm. Alarm snoozed.

Out of the darkness: “Next week this time, you’ll be heading to Boston.”

I blinked. Crap. In my mind, HOCR was nine days away, but I hadn’t thought about it like that. Who’d have thought one simple sentence would be a sucker-punch of adrenaline?

Five weeks down, one to go!

Comparing week 1 to week 2 of the October 5k training plan, I made gains almost every day. It was interesting because the priority workout I struggled with last week I crushed, while the one I loved absolutely ran me over. Those two twelve-minute pieces picked me up and body-slammed me hard four times, adding an elbow for good measure, screaming, “How do you like me NOW?”

This workout didn’t see an average spilt improvement, but it also didn’t see a significant loss.

It’s funny how that works–great workout experience one day, horrible the next.

All-in-all, a good training week. A little stronger at the start, but I think that has to do with sleep trouble. For the last four days, I’ve struggled to get a full night’s rest. I keep waking in the wee pre-dawn hours for no good reason. No crazy dreams, no nerves, no crying kid. Just, “hey, it’s 4 am, let’s lie awake in bed for the next two hours. Sounds like fun!” I took a sleeping pill last night and somehow still woke up at 5 am.

I ended Week 5 with a five-day training week, taking Saturday off. Early weather reports had rain and wind on Saturday, so I thought Sunday would be the better rowing day. I think the switch will work out better, too. Four final days of training: Sunday-Wednesday, then off Thursday for travel. Then bam! It’s showtime.

The taper & recovery

Rowing’s still been charging ahead, but weightlifting started the taper. I think I find tapering hard because I feel guilty. After pushing and building for months and months, now go easy? It seems counter-intuitive.

Now that a have a little extra time, I tried to spend more time on a better recovery. I’m guilty of the same thing other adult athletes are: not giving time to the post-work cool-down. When I train at the Y, I have a two-hour clock in child watch. I try to squeeze it all in, but that usually means sacrificing the tail-end of training. I might say, “I’ll do my core later,” or, “I’ll put on some yoga at naptime,” but let’s be real. It never happens.

Early steps to prepare for HOCR

At the sub-10 days out, I decided to start shifting training to the afternoons. I hate racing late in the day. I’m always worse, but I suspect that’s true for a lot of people. For me, I always seem to hit an energy lull around 3-4 pm. And when’s the race? 3:16 Saturday.

I’m hoping training later conditions my body to get used to making a large physical effort later in the day.

I started adding some land-based warm-up before all the rowing sessions, just like I do when I race. Again, just practicing the routine. Trying to normalize everything.

I watched more HOCR race videos on a recovery day, but I realized they weren’t really going to do me, the rower, any good familiarizing with the course. I’m not a coxswain! My butt goes over the line first, not my feet. I did find two videos shot from rowers wearing Go-Pros. Besides the shakiness, that was actually helpful. On the second one, I saw a building and remembered a bridge was coming up.

And I added Boston to my weather app. That’s a sure sign it’s soon!

Those pesky nerves

You know when you’re giving a speech for the first time, and someone says, “everyone else is just as nervous as you,” as a measure of comfort?

It doesn’t help.

Maybe everyone else is just as nervous head racing, and especially head racing at the Head of the Charles, but that knowledge does nothing to stop those adrenaline jolts.

The first round of nerves hit with Alan’s innocent little remark Thursday morning. The came again as I drove to the YMCA to work out. The sweaty palms. The tumbling rocks in the stomach. Dry mouth.

I’ve also had checklists running through my head. What to pack, what to buy, what to do this weekend.

Nerves and the mental game are two rowing demons I struggle against I am my worst enemy. The bigger the boat, the less I struggle, but the panic is always there. I put a lot of pressure on myself. Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of being in the boat I’m in.

In my spare moments, I’ve been reading on strategies and approaches to help stay calm and focused. If you have the Faster Masters program, there’s a section on head race planning. I liked this image from this morning’s research:

 “One major cause of race-day stress is the unknown… How fast will you run? Will you finish? Will you be the last person across the line? Will you qualify or break that personal record? What will your finish-line photo look like? The key to calmer waters is to race with what the day gives you and surrender to running your best on the day.” Source

The idea of surrendering resonated with me. It will be, what it will be, right?

ONE WEEK.

Casey continues her journey towards the Head of the Charles. 

Halfway there! As the countdown ticks down, two of our women’s four suffered sickness this week. Better sick now than in three weeks.

The moral of this week is it’s great to push yourself and your boundaries. It’s also imperative you listen to your body. You need rest and recovery. As the big race looms, it’s easy to push too far and get broken down.

The 5k Confession

Part of training is measuring your progress. That means a test whether it’s in the form of a regatta or sitting down on the erg and pushing out a piece. I had wanted to do the Queen City Head or the Head of the Eagle as test races, but both were canceled. The remaining regattas within a three-hour circumference of Lexington are on October 12, the weekend before the Head of the Charles. I am not doing a head race the weekend before the Head of the Charles.

Last week, I sat down with the intention of crushing a 5K erg test. The opposite happened. The erg test crushed me.

I am convinced I can break the 20-minute mark on a 5,000m test. I just know I can do it. The problem is translating that belief into the actual test. I can’t figure out what it is going to take to get me to drop those 30 seconds. I know most of the problem lies between my two ears.

When I did this test, I was so hopeful. I mentally tried psyching myself up for dropping some serious time off my PR.  I wrote a note on tape,

“YOU biggest obstacle to overcome-YOU can do it!”

I stuck it above the monitor where I could see it every stroke. I had a test strategy I felt good about. I knew what pace base to sit on, I knew where I hit walls, I knew to stay mentally positive.

But, I know my body pretty well. I can usually tell when I’m getting sick before I’m getting sick. During the warm-up, I suspected it was not going to go well but tried to stay hopeful. I’ve had workouts where the warm-up sucked but I crushed the workout. Sometimes it goes from feeling defeated to channeling the Arnold by the end.

On this day, my muscles felt fatigued, but maybe I’d loosen up. So I pushed the negativity away. Mental pep talk:

“Suck it up. I’m going to do this and maybe some magic will happen.” 

I wouldn’t say I hit a wall so much as I was rowing up a wall the whole time. The incline worsened as the test proceeded. As one thousand meters remaining grew closer, I knew I could not PR, maybe not even tie my last best. I didn’t feel I had much left to give. I tried sticking on the target watts, staying mentally tough, knowing I’d regret it. At 1000 to go, the erg won. Off the cliff I went.

Admitting failure is hard. I know you cannot break a personal record every single time you sit down and test. But I just want to achieve this milestone so badly. I know I have it in me, I haven’t found what is going to take to unlock it. To be stuck in this in this rut is challenging.

But even failure represents learning. Before I threw in the towel, my average spilt pace was close to my PR; that tells me the base I have is still in place. I’ll make sure I’m well-rested and taper off training before trying the 5k test again. Physically, I didn’t do anything to prepare for this test. I kept training as normal, so I made the attempt after a relatively challenging day of erging and weight training. I know better, but let my eagerness to PR get the best of me. I should have done a day of recovery before attempting the test.

I’m reading about head racing and strategies to get perspectives on race planning. The October Fasters Masters Rowing Radio talks about head racing tips, like judging your pace and moving the boat efficiently. All really good advice as race day looms. I have ideas to try for next time. Of course, I have to keep training working on that base fitness.

That was last week, though, at the end of week 2. I just needed time to process the experience before writing about it.

How’s it going this week?

Training Progress- Week 3

Did I improve from Week 1 to Week 3? Overall, yes. The first half of the week when I was feeling great and had no wrenches to dodge, the times showed improvement. In particular, one priority workout dropped the total average spilt by 1.1 seconds. Over 6000+ meters, I’d say that’s a good gain. The base “recovery” pieces saw similar gains in total meter progress.

I knew getting to Sunday was going to be a slog. I should have taken a rest day and made it a five-workout week, but I wanted to get back to having Sundays off. Looking forward, I knew I’d have a five-day workout in week 4 because of travel. I opted to keep going.

This decision translated to ten days of training before a rest day. Midweek, the push started showing. I noted soreness from the prior day’s weight training work out and feeling tired. I didn’t make any significant gains nor see any significant losses.

Thursday I was pressed for time. Skipping a good warm-up showed in the final erg results. I was warmed up for weightlifting and that met expectations.

Friday, I had a morning doctor’s appointment. They decided to run some bloodwork. Usually, I skip exercise after getting blood drawn because I’ve had some bad experiences in the past. Since they didn’t drain me dry this round, I did choose to workout, but only after making sure I was well-hydrated and well-fueled. I also did not adhere to the plan’s target pace numbers. Instead, I opted for a relaxing, technique-focused workout.

So no progress on the times on Thursday and Friday was more about circumstances and decisions I made. That doesn’t mean I didn’t make progress with technique, as I tried to focus on not collapsing at the catch and accelerating through the drive.

After an “easier” two days, I expected a pretty solid Saturday row with the intent to push the envelope.

Introduce Murphy’s Law:

• Alan unexpectedly went out of town. My in-laws were able to watch Caelan, but we met at a new lake I’ve never rowed before. Automatically more cautious. Trees, gravel bars, islands, and other navigational obstacles (ahem, fishermen)? Check!
• Friday night’s sleep came in spurts, thanks to crying toddler, barking dog, and neighbors awake at 3 am. Who is willingly awake at 3 am? Exhausted-check!
• Caelan loves to share, including all his colds. I woke up with a headache and running nose. Rowing doped on Dayquil–check!
• Wind from all directions. Headwind, tailwind, crosswind, nature delivers!

Despite the hurdles, Saturday was still a good workout. I just made some executive decisions about the practice, like dropping the target stroke rate two beats, sometimes two beats more for steering or wind conditions. Something’s going on with my port side blade work. I can’t figure out if I need to press out more through my thumb, if it’s in my press down and feather, or something else with my grip.

I actually like that I was hit with the wind. The Kentucky River sits in a valley that usually shelters the water on windy days. Nationals proved I need more practice in adverse conditions. I hear the HOCR is notorious for windy conditions, so thank you for the prep, Mother Nature.

But when I finished Saturday, I was glad to be finished. I desperately needed a day off, evidenced not only by contracting this awesome head cold, but when I crashed on the sofa for over three hours on Sunday afternoon. Not toddler nor husband could rouse this mama bear out of her slumber. And I still got a full night’s rest that evening.

The moral of this week? Listen to your body. If you need a rest day, take the darn rest day. That’s what flexible schedules are for!

The next three weeks of training

I logged onto the program this morning to get October’s plan. Is it weird to feel excited about a training plan? I’m really looking forward to these workouts, the shifts in these pieces require more mental alertness. Since I erg more than row, I need those cues to stay fresh and tuned-in.

I have one more week to crush this land training before the strength taper starts. So weird to be talking about taper! Where did the time go?

And there’s more planning to be done with my 4+, as we won’t have rowed together until race day. You know, the important questions. What kind of start will we do? What important calls do we need the cox to make? Do you wear white or black under the unisuit? Baseball caps or visors?

Right after the Charles is the Head of the Hooch. No forgetting about that. I bit the bullet and put in a bid for the Women’s Under 50 1x. Now that’s scary. The first race in the new boat!

Gordon Williams is our very first medalist training on the Faster Masters programme. He  won Mens F 1x at Lake Ruataniwha in New Zealand's South Island during September, beating a long-time winner into second place just before the line.

How the race went

Truth be told I rowed like a lumberjack for the last 15-20 strokes - no finesse at all. Carolyn Steele said to me after that the last 15-20 were “very ugly but seemed to be effective” LOL.

Bruce nearly caught me. I need to learn to keep my cool for that last 150m. Start & middle were well judged and no different to how we always try to race. Stayed close to the front 3 guys though intentionally marginally behind them until 250. Concentrated on staying at that 250 (rate 32 SPM) pace through to 600. Then just pushed for 250 by increasing leg drive and maintaining stroke rate at 31-32 SPM. Panicked through lack of oxygen going to my brain at 850 and started sprinting up to 37 SPM just before the line. Silly really given that I know from rowing the “Chris 500” at the lake, that I should stay at 32 and just lengthen as long as possible, pause longer on the back and force the leg drive harder. But I didn’t do that and should have. I know it cost me at least 1sec elapsed time and that would have been “free speed”.

From a training perspective it was all about practising to be ready to accept the pain and just keep going without quitting or letting that pain take over. You have to do the programmed “hard” work pieces on the water in training if you expect to be prepared and mentally strong enough to stay upright in the boat and sprinting at the end.

The Chris 500

[Gordon's double and pairs partner is Chris Brake - he likes to do a flat out race at the end of early morning outings on the last 500 meters to the boating dock - Gordon calls this the Chris 500.]

For me the best training preparation I did was the “Chris 500” when “racing” alongside the 4X and racing against Chris and Martha in their 2X. I know we cannot do that every outing of course! - But probably once per week - someone in the Swans (Gordon's club) is equally crazy enough to want to race me home to the pontoon.

Congratulations to Gordon - you're in OUR record books forever.

Gordon Williams used the Faster Masters Individual Training Program to prepare for this regatta.

Gordon sent us these photos of the lake where the event was held - look it up - Lake Ruataniwha in Twizel.  Seriously beautiful lake with its own back-story.  It is part of a hydro-electric scheme and the engineer building it realised that it could easily be a rowing lake with some small depth modifications and straightening the bank out.  So Max Smith ordered the changes and after they were done, he told his bosses that they had made a great recreational rowing race course.

He got fired for his pains.

And rowers in New Zealand got a wonderful race course in the middle of the South Island.

 

 

You may be wondering what is Faster Masters?  Let me answer by telling you a story.  Grab a comfy seat and a drink because this will take you 5 minutes to read.

Rebecca and Marlene are your coaches were both competitive younger rowers and (eventually) reached the end of their careers and wondered what to do next.

Marlene had won major titles in sculling and sweep rowing including a US National Championship, a Collegiate National Championship, and a Head of the Charles title. In 2000, she set two world records on the Concept2 Indoor Rower; Rebecca was a multiple Henley Womens medalist and Henley Royal Regatta finalist with a string of medals in UK head races, National Championships and a Boat Race win.

After deciding to quit, both were at a loss about what to do next. Was there a place in rowing for older athletes with a bit of coaching experience?

The enthusiastic older athlete

We noticed in every rowing club there is a committed group of older athletes who enjoy training together; they turn up regularly; they get given old boats to use and after training they huddle in the club room drinking tea and clearly having a good time chatting together.

Everyone ignores them.

Nobody knows or cares that they were once the youthful heroes of the club training all hours and winning medals. Once in a while a newcomer is added to the group – someone who moved to the area, a visitor from overseas or a beginner who is starting off in the sport. They quickly become embedded in the group and make friends.

The group gets no coach allocated to advance their skill; they do boat maintenance as they use older shells and oars cast aside by other training groups. And yet …… they have the same commitment and drive to succeed, to gain skill to move a shell with ease, becoming fit, strong and worthy competitors in rowing races.

Rebecca was asked by David Hudson and Andy Ripley to coach the masters group at Tideway Scullers School, her London UK club. This was a revelation. The group were the most attentive students, striving to effect technique changes, hungry for more drills and more insights to make their boat go fast. And as they trained with a common focus and a common purpose they got faster, stronger and that season they won medals, lots of them.

Marlene took a different path – becoming a coach and starting Royle Row training camps and coaching.

They both realised that in clubs around the world there are people who are hungry for coaching; for a focus for this workout and a gauge to measure progress towards a goal.

But before the internet, few of these masters could find each other and learn together or share experiences. They met occasionally at the Head of the Charles or the FISA Masters Regatta but dispersed afterwards back to their clubs. The group was global but isolated, motivated but un-focused, and unable to progress.

Mike Davenport, the author of the Nuts and Bolts Guide to Rigging and Jimmy Joy, host of the Joy of Sculling Conference were both guests on Rebecca’s RowingChat podcast. Behind the scenes, both gave invaluable advice on how to share coaching advice from a distance, how to bring groups together for a few days to progress rowing skills; how to write clear explanations allowing the reader to coach themselves.

And this motivated both Marlene and Rebecca to continue coaching and to start sharing their knowledge online. Rebecca started writing for an audience of Masters on the Rowperfect blog; Marlene penned articles for Rowing News and gained new club clients who bought her training programs.

The snowball started to roll.

The final chapter begins

Rebecca invited Marlene to be a guest on RowingChat in January 2016 and that episode became one of the most downloaded ever. They continued chatting offline and decided to launch an advisory self-coaching program called Faster Masters Gold. It is 8 detailed ebooks covering drills, technique adaptations as you age, developing stroke power and racing 1k. The globally popular Facebook group, Masters Rowing International was formed and it continues to grow (>6,000 members) as masters find a community with aligned interests ready to answer each others’ questions and share advice. (Do join and invite your rowing friends.)

The time for Faster Masters Rowing had come

These early successes encouraged Rebecca and Marlene to continue to discuss the challenges faced by masters athletes. We found ways to overcome the isolation; to demonstrate smart ways for more people to really enjoy rowing and to make strong progress towards goals - despite clubs who do not support and encourage masters.

Today, Faster Masters Rowing helps athletes with a framework for their training and an online community to support the trials of training, injury, setbacks and to celebrate progress towards success.