Of fathers

I went to the river on “Fathers’ day” because it was an especially hard day for me. I had lost my dear father exactly 3 months and 1 week before. It was as if when he vanished along with the hour we skipped when jumping ahead to the summer time... With all that has happened since in my life, I have not been able to row, which only made me feel worse. I have fallen again in the same trap many of us often fall into: when things get really rough, we let ourselves carried away and completely forget to take the time we needed to tap into our inner sources of strength.  Why did I deny myself for so long taking the time to be on the water, rowing my single scull at dawn, when it had helped me recover my peace and overall strength so many times before?

On this particular morning I went out on the river later than usual, so I was not very surprised to find myself surrounded by a large number of leisure boats. However, after passing a number of them I realized that the average age on the river was much lower than usual. Every boat carried an adult male and one or more children. Apparently paddling or fishing with one’s kids is a popular way to spend Fathers’ day. I rarely see such mixed age crews more often on the river - I wonder why?

We did not observe Fathers’ day as I was growing up in my native country. I thought of my dad, and tried to think about leisurely activities we had shared. My father used to be a very busy professional and I was a girl. I do remember the three of us (with mom) hiking and the many week-ends when he drove us, my mother and I, out of town to picnic into the nearby woods. He loved to grill and would gather the needed dry wood while I loved sauntering around him picking wild flowers (I gave up on helping with gathering the wood since it never seemed to pass his quality inspection).  Upon returning from the woods, on many Sunday afternoons, I would sit next to my dad and watch soccer together with him, I became a fan of his team – if he ever wished he had a son to watch with instead, he never mentioned it to me…

Actually I cannot remember my father taking me out on the water or participating to some fun activities only with me (mom seems to have been always included). However, I do remember him spending serious quality time with me so many times: explaining, rationalizing, sometimes disciplining, other times encouraging me.  So, where ever the tumultuous stream of my life has taken me, I knew my father was always in my boat. I hope he still is…

Starting to run for all the good reasons

Why can I not resist a worthy challenge, no matter how unsure I may be of my ability to successfully complete it? First, when the goal seems worthy to me, the pain and potential “humiliation” I might have to endure in the process seem insignificant by comparison. Then, I know from experience I had always gained at least some valuable lessons. To top it all, if I do succeed, I feel exhilarated and reinforced in my determination to continue to accept good challenges. This time my challenge was indeed related to participating in a 5K “fun run”. I had good reasons to accept this challenge and to believe I had the stamina to complete it, but I did not know how to actually do it. The lessons I learned are widely transferable.

Sunrise on Lake Michigan

I was attending the annual meeting of the American Heart Association. In the spirit of the conference, the participants, professionals who work in the area of cardiovascular disease, are encouraged to “walk the talk” or rather, run it. My early career mentor, Peter, a dedicated runner, has been asking me on every eve of the run, for almost 20 yrs, if I was going to participate. I have been saying: “No, not this year… I am not a runner, I’ll need to prepare for it.” But that never happened. Not only do I not enjoy running, but by doctor’s orders after a bus accident that immobilized me for months in a hospital bed many years ago I am to avoid any physical activity pounding on my spine. Last year, my mentor finally wore me down. I thought: if I can compete in a 5K rowing race, I should have enough stamina to finish a 5K run, right? So, I ran it, felt good about finishing, but I was not sure I wanted to repeat the experience; however, it turns out that my mentor had asked the organizers to dedicate this year’s run to the memory of one of our colleagues who had been struck and killed by a car while running precisely during last year’s annual meeting. Peter enlisted all the runners who were current members or alumni of his institution, which included me, to wear a tee-shirt displaying the name of our lost colleague to honor his memory. How could I say no to running this year?

I got up really early and put on several layers as my iPhone indicated the temperature was 30 F. I was not sure what runners wear, I had put on a couple of layers, and now I got the extra tee-shirt, however while waiting for all the runners to show up, I was regretting being there so early (I was in the first bus that dropped people off at the site). In spite of the dark, we snapped pictures “before”, we heard some brief talk encouraging us to maintain healthy physical activities, then a couple of short speeches about the person we were commemorating and we held a moment of silence. We were then told to go to the start line by letting the competitive runners start first. In fact, I went around the crowd to snap some pictures of the competitive group, running in place impatient to catapult over the start line.  Only now, while writing this, did it occur to me that their puzzled looks may have been related to the fact that by walking over the start line to take the pictures, I had likely triggered my own timing device! Did I mention that I am “green?” Satisfied with the spectacle of their explosive start, I then walked to the back of the gathered crowd and started my own run from there.

So, here are the main learning points I selected from my (overall) experience of 2 x 5K runs, one year apart (with no training what so ever).

1. Accept a worthy challenge.

If the cause seems important to you, take a chance and do your very best. Worst case scenario, you will learn from it.

2. Seek and follow (some of the) advice.

I knew this would not be easy with no training, so I asked several experienced runners for some tips, “Should I try to touch down first with my toe or my heel? How should I pace a 5 K run?” Their face betrayed their amused incredulity: “You do not usually run??? Well, then… best just forget it!” Finally, Sonia, another of my mentors offered advice that unleashed for me the possibility of participating: “If you really, really want to do it, just take it easy and hang in there!” I decided to go with her advice.

3. Find a buddy (support system)

As I began to run at the end of the crowd, I was still getting passed by many! I felt very discouraged: I was slow even in the slow crowd… Judging by their toned and nice physiques, it seemed that the great majority of runners were fitter or younger, and many were both. Once more I doubted my decision to participate… Then, I finally spotted in front of me someone who was more like me, in fact she seemed heavier. I told myself, “If she can run I can run! I will just try to stick with her for as long as I can”. For a while, I only looked at her back and tried to keep up with her speed, ignoring all those passing us.

4. Enjoy your route, but don’t find excuses to give up/get off track.

The view was really amazing: the sun was beginning to rise over Lake Michigan, seemingly setting its calm waters on fire. If I did not come out here to run at this early hour, I would have not been able to see this remarkable scene from behind the tall city skyline. I kept thinking I may not be able to remember the splendid picture in its full glory. Besides, my legs were hurting, so I wanted really badly to stop, rest, and take some good pictures. I took my camera out of my pocket (I had thought I might need it), but realized that should I stop to take those good pictures, this might just turn into a photo safari. I was there for a different reason so, I stopped only long enough to snap several pictures in the low light. It turns out that many are not in focus, but I was still able to find a few that are good enough to jog my memory.

5. Learn, find ways to compensate for your shortcomings,adapt.

Since having my back injured in the bus accident many years ago, I have a deficit in my left leg that becomes noticeable (to me) with strenuous activity. I had learned over the years how to compensate for it while rowing: I decrease the force with which I push against the boat with my right (“good”) leg to match the weaker left leg. It is easy to tell if I am doing it right, any difference between left and right foot’s pressure makes my single boat veer… While running, I could not pound away with my left leg as vigorously as I could with my right. It took a while to figure out that I could not split differentially the gravitational pull on my two legs, so I resolved to run “softer” (and of course slower).

6. Hang in there.

 I was following the advice, running only up to where it felt hard but not uncomfortable, and keeping the hope that I will not run out of steam before the official finish line. I was making steady progress, albeit many had passed me by. At some point I began to notice people slowing down, and then I began to pass some, including the woman I had resolved to follow. A quick corner of the eye look when passing her revealed she was many years my junior.

7. Aim for a strong finish.

With the finish line in plain view, I tried to gather all my remaining energy to sprint. Someone decided that we needed encouragement and shouted in a megaphone: “Looking good! You need to smile for the finish.” I thought, how could I possibly smile, everything hurts. At the exact moment when my brain rebelled, I felt a violent cramp in my left leg. In a strange way it was reassuring as just moments ago I could not feel my leg anymore, and was wondering if it was still bending correctly or was about to buckle. I thought: “Oh no, I am not going to be able to finish!” My response was to run even faster to make sure I do make it across the finish line, so I pushed my chest forward and hoped my legs will rotate fast enough to keep up with it. I could not believe it, but here it was: the finish arch. After going under it, my first thought was: ”I did it!” Second thought: “Is this real or am I dreaming?” For one, the speakers were still blasting (appropriately?) "Forever young, I want to be forever young" as when I had started running, it felt like a "Groundhog day" type of situation. Then,  a couple of guys watching my finish exclaimed loudly: “Oh wow, that was really impressive!”

8. Pass it on: challenge/encourage someone else!

The reason I wrote about how I was able to overcome this challenge is because I hope that at least one other person will find it inspiring enough to tackle a challenge new to them (not necessarily taking up running), anything worthwhile they currently think they are not capable of achieving…

“If I can run, YOU can run!”  

A case of mind over matter?

“Yes, absolutely: If you don’t mind, it does not matter!’ replied Reuben, the Dolphin Club’s boat captain, who was giving me a tour of the swimming and boating club in San Francisco Bay. What a treat! The visit to the Dolphin opened my eyes to a whole new level of physical and mental fitness needed to swim in the Bay waters and the harmonious cooperation between people who love making headway (moving) in or over the water.

At the end of a business trip to San Francisco, I decided to see if I might be able to row at one of the local clubs. One of the wonderful things I had discovered about becoming a rower is that it creates an invisible but real connection with many other like minded people worldwide. I have yet to find a place that would not extend the invite to visit and possibly row at the local facilities. Googling “rowing in San Francisco” brought up info on several Bay Area clubs. The closest to my location carried the additional designation of “swimming” in its name. I had seen boating, sailing, paddling, and kayaking added to the rowing, but the notion that rowers and swimmers shared a club was puzzling to me. While the e-mail reply warned me that I won’t be allowed to row because I could not claim open water experience, I was nevertheless cordially invited to visit the club.

On a beautiful but chilly early November morning I eagerly walked down Nob Hill to the edge of the Bay. I found myself in front of a building that from the street looked itself as a large white and blue boat. Once inside, I was transported in time! The club, founded in 1877, (see history) boasts in its great wood paneled room a full size wooden bar similar to those I’ve discovered in the old boat houses of Philadelphia – apparently a feature required by boaters till the 19th century… A fleet of large, carefully maintained, wooden boats still used for open water rowing reminded me of other antique boating equipment I had used at the Roskilde Roklub, that is built on a fjord next to the Viking museum in Denmark. Many pictures and trophies documenting a long and proud history were also on display. However, the most impressive discovery occurred when I exited toward the water side of the boat house: people, several older than me, in their bathing suits cheerfully greeting each other while coming out or waddling into the frigid water. My feeling of confidence, gained from sporting only a light leather jacket that morning when most passersby were shivering in puffy jackets and huddling paper cups of hot coffee, quickly gave way to humility! A stunning view of the bay with pink fog rolling in and out over the Golden Gate Bridge added to my awe. It turned out to be a very good day to observe these people whose determination made them not only able to but actually willing to brave the chilly open waters of the Bay. I was shown pictures of 80+ yo members who still swam the Golden Gate Bridge route or had crossed the English Channel.

I asked Reuben what it takes to be able to brave the cold open waters of the Bay? He told me about needing to persevere to gradually withstand water’s low temperature, having the metabolism to sustain the swim, and staying fit into old age. And I learned that this club holds… hypothermia classes. Above all, I was told it’s about a state of mind. As Reuben put it, “We do not have to swim in these waters, we chose – and love- to!” My visit was a revelation. When swimming clubs will be mentioned from now on, I will not automatically picture a pool, inevitably limited in length, with water warmed at a comfortable temperature. I now understood why I was not allowed to row: I needed to be able to swim in those waters should the wake of a passing tanker flip my boat.

I had to leave to catch my return flight, but I had trouble extracting myself from the scene. I had taken dozens of pictures (still hard to find one that does justice to the real thing). One last look: wide sky above blue and gold open waters. Pink fog. The Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, Angel Island and Alcatraz. Tankers passing and honking in the distance. Boats and flocks of swimmers crossing in various directions. The smell of bacon. What a morning!

A sure way to get my heart rate up

My heart beats per minute (BPM)

The media published yet another story in its quest for mass-appeal with the potential for huge public disservice…  Is it me, or is media defeating the essential reasons for its very existence?

The other day, I received an email message from my son. In his usual succinct style, the subject line said: ”Well, so much for that plan” and it included a link to story published in “The Observer” (/the guardian/UK) entitled “Why exercise won’t make you thin.”  He is a bright young man (as illustrated by his reading on a variety of subjects including in the foreign press), who has been likely looking, like many others, for an “intelligent ,“ seemingly science-backed, excuse to skip on exercise. The effect of this story hit close enough to shock me out of my writing hiatus. No worries, I waited till I had pondered on the article while rowing and my heart beat came back close to its regular rhythm (as demonstrated by the picture - talk about exercise not having positive effects...) before starting to write.

The article contains the following executive summary: “A result for couch potatoes, yes, but also one that could have serious implications for the government's long-term health strategy.” By the number of tweets and Facebook shares it seems this was quite a popular story; I am sure the couch potatoes “ate” it up (no apologies, the pun is intended!) The coup de grace is questioning the government strategy on regular exercise.  Surely the British, as well as other, governments that came up with recommendations are not interested in how their citizens “look” but in their health status.  There is a massive amount of scientific data showing how regular exercise improves people’s health. By publicly questioning the benefits of exercise in such misleadingly written articles, the mass media is doing a huge disservice to people looking for “evidence” to avoid the effort that may be needed to make healthy choices.

I will not repeat what the article says, so you could have the pleasure of reading it yourself, but it contains a lot of statements like these: “More and more research in both the UK and the US is emerging to show that exercise has a negligible impact on weight loss. Almost worthless, as far as fitting into your bikini is concerned.” And supposedly backs up the perception of “worthless” with studies from reputable sources such as The Mayo Clinic. The problem is that one has to read carefully to fully understand the implication of their quoted conclusion: "an exercise regimen… is unlikely to result in short-term weight loss beyond what is achieved with dietary change." But of course! There are no magic bullets for losing weight. As someone who spent more than 20 yrs trying to understand how our body functions, I can tell that it is too complex and resilient (thankfully!) to undergo lasting changes due to any crash-style regimen, either diet of exercise. 

If your ultimate goal is "looks,” then the question is: do you just want to ”look good” for some specific upcoming event or do you want to look the best you possibly could for the rest of your life? More importantly, one should plan to lose pounds to reach their healthy weight not just to fit in a specific dress on one special occasion or even in their favorite “skinny” jeans. We should all aim for our healthy weight – we have a pretty good idea of what that is. For faster but fleeting changes, you could go ahead starve or poison yourself with some crazy diet, but for a sustained effect, you will have to be diligent and determined, and possibly even call upon some of your math abilities! The article suggests people who exercise do not lose weigh because they (over)compensate, i.e. feel entitled to eat more because they exercise. Well, there is a simple equation each of us has to solve out every day: “Did I eat more than I burned?” No worries, there are many free websites that will help you approximate calories for food and exercise, and now many fast food and restaurants have to show calories to you as soon as you are ready to decide what to order. And there is plenty of help teaching you what and how to cook healthy (I wrote another time on that strategy for weight loss “Winning the race against gravity and inertia”). It’s a lifestyle change!

I made that healthy lifestyle choice myself and have been working at it for a while. However it is nothing like the discouraging statement made by the article that says: “From a practical perspective, then, exercise is never going to be an effective way of slimming, unless you have the training schedule – and the willpower – of an Olympic athlete.” Not true! The biggest challenge is to make a little time each day (no Olympic athlete works out less than an hour!) and to use a combination of exercises. What worked for me was identifying  and adding some “body weight lifting” type exercises that I enjoy (I do not like working with machines). One quote I liked from the article was: “We know that dietary behavior is quite a negative behavior – we're having to deny ourselves something. There aren't any diets out there that people enjoy. But people do enjoy being physically active." So why is the Observer article discouraging people from exercising??? And yes, I am also paying attention to what I eat, but I can’t diet: I love food too much! Luckily not donuts, but I love and occasionally eat French fries and two portions of desert (especially if the option of trying different ones is presented to me). I just know that I will have to burn these off in the next couple of days and I don’t give up every time after, as if I had already blown it and there is 'no hope anyway.' Oh yes, I also eat chocolate every day (but I do limit the amount). Some of my friends attending food-themed events have complained saying that “it’s not fair” that I can eat this much. My frequent reply: “so, see you tomorrow for an early morning row?” The secret is that muscle needs more energy, but is also better at burning it (IF you use your muscles!)

Let me tell you how the last couple of years have been for me, and I promise I am not an exception (I recommend reading Mayo Clinic's  “7 benefits of regular physical activity” and the American Heart Association scientific position on physical activity). Every day I do exercises that I enjoy (I picked them based on that!) and I resist at all costs the temptation to skip exercise because of a time crunch (there are other things that could be cut, sometimes sleep time for me!). Nevertheless, overall I have more energy than ever; I even have more time to think (away from other distractions). My physician was astounded (again) after my yearly physical: “What have you been doing???” he asked, “You have the vitals of a 30 yr old hard core athlete!”  Only that… I’m not. Also, I’m not so light, but I’m tight! Muscle weighs more than an equal volume of fat. Imagine my surprise the first time I could not find my size for some clothing item I liked because I was… too small?!?! It happened to me more than once since, and instead of getting upset, I am still (pleasantly) surprised every time. So although the effort/compliments ratio is not exactly one to one (I exercise every day!), people who know me and people I had not met before compliment me all the time about how healthy and good I look. Every week someone asks for specific advice on how they could obtain the same results. Here is my advice if you want to enjoy and benefit from exercise: 1) pick physical activities you like best so that you will want to do them regularly, and 2) make a commitment to find time for it every day… for the foreseeable future. It's that simple! If other circumstances require some exercises that you normally do not enjoy - try my strategy to get those done ("Start with the end in sight"). But the most important advice I have in response to the Observer's story is, regardless of your weight: if you are considering giving up on exercising or on starting to exercise regularly, DON’T!

I went back to check for other reactions to this article: I was hoping people would speak up. I would have been surprised to see publicly expressed cheers from self-acknowledged couch potatoes (especially if that might have involved getting up from the couch ;-) My favorite comment summarizing this article? “Dreadful Sunday fodder article, shame on you. However, wonderful picture of a lean gonzesse doing sit-ups on a doughnut, well done, keep it up.” Certainly a better use for the large doughnut if you plan to look like the girl in that picture!

 p.s. wondering if anybody already did a study examining the effects on weight and overall health status of a group giving up their daily exercise routine for extra time to read the newspaper?!?

A view “to live for”…

My recent experience with trying to measure up against the mighty Potomac provided the most vivid illustration of this twist of the phrase ”to die for” , which had apparently stuck in my brain after hearing it a while back. Those who had similarly gone through serious situations, fearing for their life, yet in the same time feeling elated, will probably relate. No, I’m not going to recount a pure adrenaline-rush episode some seek on purpose, like plunging at the end of bungee cord. Mine was a less contrived occurrence requiring me to put up a good fight, the reward was not only staying alive but feeling overjoyed about being alive (something I would otherwise take for granted).

My professional career created the opportunity to further expand my… rowing horizons. As of April I became a guest member of the Potomac Boat Center in DC, one of the most prestigious and venerable US rowing clubs, situated on the banks of one of the mightiest North American rivers. After a long winter during which I was reduced to sadly contemplating my little frozen lake, I could not wait one more second to experience water in its liquid form. On my first day as a member, I had been summoned to launch my boat well before the crack of dawn, something I never do back home. I was told the basic rules (needed to use boat lights to be noticed, which side I was allowed to navigate on) and some useful information (how far to the last bridge and ‘current is strong today’).

The mighty Potomac, further inflated by the heavy rain in the last few days, was glowing seductively under the full moon, so there I went, taking on it in a light weight single boat. The power differential was a bit intimidating, but the water seemed rather smooth, and the easy going with its flow enhanced the whole magic of the new experience and my belief that “I can do this”… However, after navigating a couple of turns (in the dark!) the water became very rough just before having to pass under a series of bridges. All of the sudden I was sucked into a vortex, the boat was accelerating toward a huge pillar. I rapidly pulled in my oar (which normally hangs more the 6 feet on the side of the boat) completely into the oarlock to prevent it from being snapped. Of course, the boat was now completely unbalanced so I instinctively leaned overboard on the other side while we were twirling together out of control toward the pillar.

I used the blade as a rudder and just when the light boat was about to crash into the pillar, instead of avoiding it, I planted my blade into the pillar and began to push and extend again the oar redirecting the force to push us away from the center of the vortex. Seemed like time stood still, yet the locked dance with the pillar might have taken only a few seconds, then all of the sudden we were set free of its embrace. If I had to plan it, I would probably not been able to anticipate the moves needed to keep us afloat. The experience of less dramatic yet various challenges during the past years somehow combined into an instinctive knowledge of how to maintain the balance. Probably even more importantly, I distinctly remember becoming more calm and deliberate as the outside world started to spin around me. I also remember wondering, almost as if I was looking at myself: “how comes I am still riding above the water?” It was a strange feeling of completely being into the moment, yet rationally thinking about it as if observing if from the outside.
The last couple of bridges I navigated as in trance, then I hit again open water, seemingly reaching the proposed goal for the day and such decided it was time to turn back. The first signs of light helped avoid getting close to the pillars again. Working now against the current, I was making slow progress. Then, the wind really picked up.

My boat, being close to the shore hit by the wind, began to briskly jump up and down on the valleys and hills created by the combined direct and reflected waves. My back was now swept by cold waves, that swept of the boat, soon the hull was completely filled with water, and my legs and feet became submerged. I was pulling my oars very hard threading through the water but it felt as if I was exercising on a stationary rowing machine. I could now see the shadows of some lone runners making good progress on the shore while I was apparently not moving at all; the Potomac was pulling every trick to just not let me go back. I remember feeling my legs were frozen, I began worrying that my back will lock, and although the adrenaline was still giving me strength to continue, I began to feel some despair.

Then… a fire lit the sky and the water, and I found myself under an enormous pink dome. Flocks of black birds began swarming the sky, and I could now make out the white lace of the blooming cherry trees on the shore. I fixated on their joyous image then realized that I was very slowly, but surely, progressing against their position. That made me happy and reassured that if I just continued I would eventually get back to the dock. I then also began to look beyond my immediate surroundings. The DC monuments looked truly majestic from the water, their light stone glowing against the fiery sky background. I thought: 'had I given in to the treacherous vortex earlier, I would have missed all of this. I’m so lucky to be alive, here, at this very moment to see this view from such a great vantage point. This was indeed a “view to live for!”’ and felt elated. I swear the obelisk even winked his red eye reassuringly at me and I smiled back at it. I knew that I will be OK, despite both the current and wind fighting against me, and the extra-liquid weight I had to carry all the way back in my boat. I grew accustomed to the rhythmic sweep of the waves getting all the way up around my waist, then over the boat’s hull, then dissipating back into the rest. I could not go any deeper than that, right? I had been literally integrated by the Potomac. Now, I knew it was just a matter of keeping going and the view was so beautiful that I did not mind moving so slowly.

When I finally reached back to the dock, the boat captain was standing waiting for me, visibly worried. As soon as he had helped me flip the boat to empty all the water, he launched into a quick series of questions: why did I go beyond the bridges? Didn’t I know that even a big 8+ boat got snapped in two by the pillars in such high current and they had to fish the rowers out the water? Did I realize I was the only single boat out there this morning? Didn’t I know it was acceptable in such a life threatening situation to break the traffic rules, why didn’t I row on the “wrong” side to minimize the effects of the wind? I looked at him, lots of answers and more questions running through my mind (why did he immediately tell me how many miles past the last bridge which I interpreted as a suggested trip, why didn’t he caution me about the pillars’ vortex, how could I already know I was allowed to break the traffic rules and not be expelled from the club?) But, then I took another look at the fiery Potomac and decided to stick with the essential. I replied:

“Sorry, just got carried away”…

Get inspired

Being inspired by others is one of the most helpful things in achieving our hard to reach goals.

I have already shared my struggle to keep up my daily exercise routine during this time when I can’t go out on the water… It is difficult to block-off the time and in addition I find erg-ing (using a rowing machine indoors) just plain hard to do! I needed to work diligently on finding ways ("Start with the end in sight") to continue to use the rowing machine, but overall it did not seem to get any more enjoyable or any easier, especially with the long-drawn-out winter this year. No wonder I don’t seem to get any better at it! Thus, it may come across as odd that when I learned of an Indoor Rowing Championship “regatta” in my city, I decided to participate.

I have been previously to a grand total of two similar events. At the first one that happened ten or so years ago, I was able to buy my rowing machine at a discount (after being used during the competition). The second indoor rowing competition took place 6 yrs ago almost to the day. I let myself being talked into a “walk-in,” meaning I just showed up and rowed (no, I did not do great there); however, I have a pleasant memory of their atmosphere, seemingly positively charged from all the energy of those serious about competing. So, I decided to go get energized about erg-ing! Little did I know that I would not only immerse myself in an energizing crowd, but I would also meet two truly inspiring people.

Paul Randall will turn 93 this year and competed to defend his world champion title in the 90-95 yo category. I can say that he is the most energetic 90+ person I personally ever met. I watched in awe as he rowed the physically taxing 2K course and took a couple of pictures of him (stretching before the start and an "action" picture).

After his race I also took the opportunity to meet and congratulate him. He indicated it was not a ‘big deal’ that he beat the time required to qualify for the finals, as he explained it, he had been specifically training for this event since August. I caught myself before asking him “of which year”? But I did ask about his potential association with Indiana University, as he was wearing an academic athletic tank top. His explanation indicated that he was not only physically fit but also very witty. He said ‘Yes, I am an Alumn’ and then immediately followed ‘and I make sure I take good advantage of it! I called them up and asked if they were going to keep their promise to give me 1% for each year since I graduated. I pointed out to them that might mean 50% off"... He paused and said with a smile: “They checked their files and came back to say, ‘In fact, Mr. Randall, you are entitled to 59%. We will honor our pledge. We are not too worried, you are the only one in your age group who is still buying athletic gear!” Paul is on his way to Boston to defend his world title at the World Indoor Rowing Championships (also known as C.R.A.S.H.-b). A much younger heavy set guy sitting in the audience commented in response to my expressed admiration, “Well, sure he can be the champion, he probably does not have much competition in his age group.” To which I said, “Yes, you are likely right, but isn’t that exactly what a champion is, someone who greatly outdoes the competition?” I also thought: Will you start training to see what it really takes? Btw, while many rowers compete in the indoors events, it is not necessary to be one to do very well on an erg which eliminates the need to be able to balance the boat on the water while simultaneously pulling hard.

The other inspiring person I met is at the other end of the age spectrum. Mika Baugh is 19. I was so lucky to crash after my own race (about lessons learned from that adventure in a future post!) on a bench next to her proud grandfather. He seemed so overjoyed that he turned toward me and said: “My granddaughter is competing today and she is my hero!” Sounded as a rather surprising statement until he told me that Mika is an A student (was Valedictorian) and a star athlete at Indiana University. He added that Mika is also the President of the National Federation of the Blind of Indiana Student Division. And yes, Mika is blind. I decided that I needed to stay longer so that I could cheer for her. She not only competed, but also coached another young woman who seemed to be the only African American competitor. I received the permission of her mother and grandfather to publicly share my own admiration for Mika. They also introduced me to Mika after her race. Exactly as her family had warned me, she too acted as it was not a big deal that she had competed and qualified for the Adaptive rowing world finals in Boston. She however shared the fact that, sadly, she will not make the trip due to a shortage of funds.

Witnessing the strength of the human spirit in overcoming such great odds filled me with awe and brought me to tears – of joy! So, back to my erg-ing… let’s hear again, what was your excuse, Z?

Winning the race against gravity and inertia

It’s the beginning of a new year, a time when many set goals to lose weight and exercise, hopefully as part of becoming healthier. If you are a steady exerciser, you probably had noticed (and might be annoyed by it!) that it is hard to get on your favorite equipment which is being used (likely inadequately) by novices who overcrowd the gyms at this time of the year. While we might not be excited by the competition for resources, I still think it is sad that many of these people will not be seen around for much longer….

What makes us stick with our best intention goals? The idea behind this post actually crystallized in my mind due to... my e-mail science alerts inclusion of a recent research paper summary published by the journal Appetite (not one of the regular cooking-type magazines – I love those as well!), but “an international research journal specializing in behavioral nutrition and the cultural, sensory, and physiological influences on choices and intakes of foods and drinks.” The recent study reports that the perception of a lower complexity for rules used to diet increases the length of participants adherence to their chosen weight management program/diet. You do not have to read the whole thing, although if you want to, I was able to find the pdf file of the in press research article here

Here is my quick take on this recent study and the issue in general. Women on two weight management programs were included in the study. The Weight Watchers program is heavier on computation, teaching participants to keep track of total daily number of points assigned by the program to each food. The other program is a recipe-based weight management ("mean plan") provided by Brigitte, one of Germany’s most popular magazines. The “cognitive complexity” of the program was defined as the difficulty perceived by its participants in figuring out what they should eat to stick with their chosen program. The study’s authors concluded that the cognitive complexity of the weight program is a very strong predictor of the length of adherence, i.e., women who had found it easier to figure out what to eat were more likely to stay in the program. I am sure this is a very valid observation; in general anything easier to figure out is easier to do and stick with! However, there are many other variables that likely were important, some of them acknowledged by the authors. One difference that stood out to me (but not to the authors) most likely due to my personal experiences, was related to what participants considered to be their main goal. The participants in the “winning” program (Brigitte) were reported to be more likely to have a weight goal rather than a time goal, in contrast to the Weight Watchers participants.

This personal observation made me consider more closely the potential importance of motivation when setting the goal for its long term success. I will make assumptions as I lack access to the actual facts… I.e., in this particular case, I am going to hypothesize based on personal experience that an average participant in the study who had decided she needed to lose weight by a specific date, was likely acting on her desire to look slimmer for a specific “event,” e.g., getting ready for a beach vacation, wedding, or reunion - haven’t we all gone through this at least once? It would then not surprise me that the dieter would lose determination in continuing to work on “looking good” after that specific date (came and gone), especially if she perceived the program as demanding in cognitive terms. We all have a lot of things competing for our brain power! And this is not even considering what sacrifices some of us are willing to make to rapidly lose weight, an approach that by its very nature is not sustainable. On the other hand, an average participant whose main purpose is the weight goal would seem to be more likely to be dedicated to not only getting there (in a hurry!) but also staying at that weight, thus more likely to stick to her program!

Time for personal disclosures: I have never tried any of these two specific programs. However, a couple of years back I did set a reasonable goal for my desired weight. This was based on widely available tables indicating the “ideal weight” (which I used to have… at a different age!) for my height, thought to ensure the lowest level of risk for heart disease, diabetes and hypertension. I also gave myself about a year to come back to my more youthful weight. I came very close but did not make it by my hoped-for date, but this was a personal (my birthday!) and not a public “drop-dead” event. My goal was to have the healthiest weight anyway, my desired date being only the beginning of (not the reason for!) what I hope to last well beyond, so I stuck with my program, self-designed to fit my life style. This combined regular exercise and eating healthy, this blog being itself an offshoot of my commitment to physical and mental fitness. If you are interested in seeing also some of what I eat, see Earth2You.org. After achieving my goal a few months later, I decided I needed to officially “mark” the event - that was reaching my goal - by signing up for a… “lightweight” category in a rowing race! Competitors need to weigh in on race day to prove they are under a certain weight, which happens to be the weight I had chosen to reach. Incidentally the race was just days after the second (!) birthday since deciding to reach my healthiest weight. As extra-motivation to stick to my lower weight I said to myself it would be very embarrassing if I had signed up and then don’t qualify for the lightweight category, at this point throwing in somewhat of a public dimension to my previously private goal.

I competed in my very first lightweight race to the not so concealed amazement of some of my fellow rowers, who have known me for years, but post my ideal weight. OK, I did not win a medal in this one... However, having qualified for it for first time and considering that all my competitors were younger (!), made me feel like a real winner: I had won my personal race not only with gravity but also with inertia. Who says we should "forget about fitting again into our skinny jeans"??? Yes, I can still remember some of the stuff I wish I had had more confidence to keep in my closet, but on the other hand I had no second thoughts about giving away my larger size clothing! My resolution is to try to stick around this weight and continue to race for as long as I can. Maybe I’ll even try again the lightweight category this year, even if they wouldn’t give me any points… for my age!

What are your get and stay healthy goals?

A toast to things forgotten

Yes, the times might have been tougher for many this past year, but joy can still be found everywhere. Eternally busy with our daily grind, we might miss a lot of it! Hopefully we did not forget to appreciate the joy of having people we care about and who care about us: family, friends, and others. BTW, did any of you see the movie “Up in the air”? Do we take enough time to realize the joy of meeting new people and ideas, of being able to do some of things each of us are passionate about, or just briefly enjoying the giggle of a child, a beautiful sunset, or a good book or glass of wine? Do we take the time to do the simple things in our power to enhance and prolong the joy of others?

As the end of the year approached, I took again my tally… Among my “joy list,” something stood out. I realized I had consistently forgotten to acknowledge an important contributor to my joy during the past decade… my rowing boat! One could argue: “But, it’s an object!” Yes, but it has been a real partner and its true value well surpasses its monetary value, although it is still the most expensive thing I bought for myself (even if not much compared to other possessions people normally acquire in their life times). Also, unlike my house or car, I have been the only user of my single scull!

A few years back I had made the decision to own a boat to further reinforce my commitment to taking the time to stay healthy through rowing. While I have been the raw force behind our rowing sessions, my boat has been our… Zen! At some point I discovered that my work on the water only paid off when I could truly become one with my boat. Rowers will understand this is not merely a metaphor, this is… mechanics! In my eagerness to “row hard,” I used to overdo it:, my movement effectively working against the boat’s effortless gliding. However, once the two of us completely cooperate, I can hear the gurgle of bubbles as we glide together through the water. My boat’s unofficial name is “Champagne”. It’s what came to my mind when I was looking for one word that could simultaneously invoke white, light, bubbles, and last but not least, the giddiness that rowing gave me so many times naturally - something that might otherwise require drinking good champagne! I think my boat fully deserves an ode as it has been a real partner that enabled me to stay physically and mentally healthy so that I could take care of all the people I care about and to do many other things that I am passionate about. So, while it’s currently parked on high dry ground, and spent the holidays alone, outside in the cold, it will be forgotten no more. This one is to you, Champagne!

What/who brings you joy?

Never too late...

I was recently prompted to consider what might have been one of my own most valuable lesson about learning at any age after watching a TED talk given by Tim Ferris recommended by my friend Vic. I agree: the talk is inspiring. Tim Ferris delivers with flair a message that rings true beyond whatever his own facts might be (I understand some people had questioned them). In addition, an interesting coincidence brought back memories of my own trials and tribulations, small victories and lessons about learning. In the video Ferris credits his swimming achievements to a new method called "Total Immersion" pioneered by Terry Laughlin. I had personally met Terry several years ago during one of my own most significant learning journeys while we both had attended the same… rowing camp. The participants, a group of like-minded adults of different ages and skill levels, came from all over US to improve upon their rowing. I was a true beginner and had signed up for the chance to dedicate one week to “crash learn” how to row a skinny scull (competition-style boat). I had previously rowed a few months in a recreational boat (those of you who row, please be tolerant, I was so “green” I didn’t even know what I didn’t know…). The rowing camp turned out to be one of my most telling experiences about learning as an adult.

I had arrived at the camp with so much enthusiasm that the first day I took advantage of all three extended rowing sessions (one was optional). This was way more than three times I had ever rowed in any single day…. yet, I felt no fatigue. However, within minutes I was made painfully aware of how much I needed to improve upon. Each of the many trainers stationed every 200 yds. on the lake pointed out yet another major issue with my technique. I would barely start working on something only to hear the next coach yelling about another huge mistake or simply making fun of my “style”. They made sure to leave me with no doubts: I was at the very bottom of the skill ladder. I was once again re-experiencing all of the frustrations and humility that come from being a complete novice critically assessed by experts, not an easy feeling for someone who had become accustomed to operate with great ease in her professional and everyday life.

They finally broke me down by the middle of the second day: "how could I ever possibly fix so many major things terribly wrong with my rowing technique???" So instead of the additional rowing session that day, I opted for the trip to the nearby ice cream factory. As I was drowning my sorrow in the biggest possible cone I was able to get, I was struck by a thought: “So what if my rowing ‘looked funny’ or I was possibly doing everything totally wrong?” Being out in the boat, pulling the oars through the crystal clear water in the middle of the woods gave me tremendous energy and joy! Who was going to watch me once I finished camp? And, if they did, should I worry about what they thought of my style? In that second I decided that I will not let the way my rowing looked prevent me from experiencing the happiness it was giving me. Thus I would go back on the water the next day and try my best to correct whatever possible (maybe not at the pace they wanted me to!) but I would not give up on rowing. The rest of the camp days continued pretty much the same: I rowed every single session, worked hard to correct various things, put up with a lot of criticism, including a lot of ridicule, and asked a lot of clarifying questions undaunted by the fun they seemed to engender. The coaches got to expect me to raise my hand at every Q&A session.

The camp’s final row was a “head race” in which all students, starting one by one like beads on a string, had to row the full length of the lake against the clock. The rowers were started in the reverse rank of their skill to give enough head start to the slow ones. I was called to start second, being assessed by coaches to only be possibly better than one other student from the group of 20+ with various skill levels. By this time it did not bother me (I knew how much I had to work on), I was just so happy I was still rowing in my white skinny scull! We then all gathered in the camp cafeteria where the head coach read in decreasing order our times, slowest first, regardless of student’s gender, age, or skill level, a nerve wrecking exercise… My heart jumped with anticipation every time they were about to call another name, but once they called out most students, my heart really started racing again! Soon I noticed that the only few not called yet were all guys, and the best rowers. I started to wonder if the coaches would play some last prank on me, they seemed to have particularly enjoyed making fun of my technique and even more so of my eagerness. With somewhat of a sheepish laugh the head coach called: “…and finally, the 'Fastest Woman on the Lake'...” It turned out to be… me!?! I was totally stunned (apparently they were too) and really happy - then, as I am now! -that I did not give up that second day. More, that small victory against great odds taught me that my enthusiasm could overcome my inexperience, and how “funny” I looked while I was learning it. I got a distinct feeling that the coaches also experienced some eye-opener that day…

I am now convinced that the ability to learn anything at any age depends in no small measure on our capacity to conquer our own fear of ridicule. Since my rowing camp days whenever I am confronted with the challenge of learning or trying something new, I have started asking myself the question: so what's the worst that could happen if I ’looked stupid?’ If the only danger is that others might think I looked goofy– then I’ll go ahead, it is well worth it! And I can have a good laugh about it too. As young children we learn new things while we are still not self-conscientious. Later, as the fear of peer judgment intensifies, we avoid trying things that might make us look ridiculous. Then, with age comes the wisdom that the “sacrifice” of looking funny is well worth the learning and we can return to being the child freely and fully embracing the fun of learning and experiencing new things that truly matter to us. At that point we become free to make choices based on gaining value, rather than on losing appearances. As a teacher of adults I try to encourage my students to fearlessly pursue their passions, even when they lay well beyond their previous/formal training. There is no substitute for really wanting to learn or do something. I don't care how "off" you might start at it! And, I make sure to reassure the first time I meet my students, and then remind them frequently, that "stupid question" is a misnomer. If someone can formulate a question about anything, than obviously there is something that needs clarification - which is the purpose of a question - thus asking any question simply can not be stupid. I learned from asking lots of "stupid" questions: if one is ever told or made feel that had just asked a "stupid question" is because the receiver had a hard time answering it and was ashamed to acknowledge it. Voila, the secret is out!

Kids, do try this at home: if you see older people, friends, parents or grandparents learning something new, do not laugh, but rather plan to continue to have the same curious and adventurous attitude… Truly, it’s never too late to learn new things!

p.s. My rowing technique has gotten better after all these years of learning, but I am still working on improving many things. Also, I still have to follow-up on my plan to someday (soon!) learn Terry’s "Total Immersion" fast, ultra-efficient swimming style. As for that rowing race, well, yes, my time was faster than Terry’s ;-)

Putting it all together – the “renaissance” competitor

The other weekend I went to cheer for friends (and secretly figure out if it was something I should consider…) participating in a “mini” triathlon that includes swimming (0.5 mi=750 m), biking (12.4 mi=20 Km), and running (3.1 mi = 5 km). The display of human determination and energy was amazing and inspiring. So many things blew me away that it was hard to rank them, so here are some in no particular order:

• Each of parts taken separately is a challenge in itself to the average person. All these people – and there were a few hundred - had been willing to train for and able to compete in all three of them.
  
• Beyond the energy expenditure needed, the mini-triathlon requires also the willingness to deal with the unpredictable – weather/water conditions - and the predictable discomfort. They not only had to bike and run after swimming, but they also did it in wet wear!
  
• Most people I talked to at the end of the race appeared to be competing against themselves, foremost keeping track of their own progress: some had competed previously, many were planning to train and come back within the next months. While there were enthusiastic cheers for every one crossing the finish line - indeed a major achievement, no prizes or trophies were distributed…
  
• Some of the people did not fit the “image” of the athlete, some appeared to be overweight, some had some sort of clear movement impairment, most were beyond the age associated with physical prowess. I was reminded again how misleading the appearances can be.

Moreover, I could not help but admire not only the technical excellence and endurance, but also the overall preparedness and the ability to think clearly under stress of these athletes. In fact, if I had to pick one thing that was the most amazing to me while watching this challenge – it was the “behind the scenes” competitors’ ability to manage the “transition time”. I understand that the times needed to don the biking gear after getting out of the water, walk the bike to the start line, then shed it all for the running shoes, were all added to the overall time. No doubt a lot of preparation went into having just was needed in terms of different gear pieces. Add to that laying down all these items and then donning or shedding them in the right order, when tired and with the clock ticking, was nothing short of a major tactical system. Way too cool, I just discovered a check list for triathlon transitions ! I’d say the handling of the swift and efficient transition from one challenge to the next under stress is one of the most difficult to find, but probably most useful abilities in the business world these days.

This made me think that the tri-athletes would likely do very well in whatever they put their minds to. No matter how these people appeared at first sight, they all had determination, endurance, versatility, clarity of mind under stressful conditions and used these qualities to constantly challenge their own abilities to get better. I wonder how frequently such transferable skills are taken into account when people are assessed for hiring or assigned professional responsibilities…

In memoriam: Armin’s wish was granted

And so it goes, and so it goes… life is short, but if we get lucky we get to live it at its fullest and leave the way we wish.

This past week we got the sad news that one of our fellows rower died. Armin passed away while rowing in a double with his rowing buddy, Ed. It was of great comfort to all of us to learn about those last moments. Thank you, Ed, for writing such an inspiring message in spite of your own pain to make it widely available to those who knew Armin, or at least could relate to his love of rowing.

Ed described Armin as being “among other things anti-establishment, a romantic, poet, artisan, father, brother and friend. He knew the value of friendship and once befriended he never abandoned the 'ship'." Indeed, Armin did not abandon their ship, he simply stayed the course until his wish was granted… This sad event allowed all to learn more about Armin than they had a chance to learn under normal circumstances. We learned that while Armin and Ed were planning to row together into their 80s, Armin’s personal wish was to pass away while rowing. Many of us who spend significant time on the water have similar “exit plans." A few years back, based on her wishes, I myself had spread the ashes of a previous rowing partner from a boat. It was sad but comforting for us to watch the white petals spread in the same time being slowly washed away. We toasted to her life with champagne and rowed back in silence. I do not know of what comes next or where she might be now, but I do think of her every time I row by the site. I am hoping that she has found peace.

Ed also told us about his last row with Armin that he felt “privileged to have shared his last moments and close his eyes” and he then spoke directly to Armin: “You will be missed my good friend, you will be missed. Thank you for being a part of my life. You are and always will be a part of my heart. You have finally found peace. Watch over us. You were never religious. I bet you were surprised to find the afterlife. You became a believer Friday night for I was present when you experienced in the words of the poet, Thomas Ady, 'the four angels round your head, one to watch , and one to pray, and two to bear your soul away'. How would I know, I saw the peace on your face.”

Tomorrow, June 14, 2009, rowers, family and other friends will hold a memorial service on the banks of the Chattahoochee river to celebrate Armin’s life.

It's a mental thing: Just keep going

Just this past weekend, several friends ran a mini-marathon (half marathon) among 35,000 other people!!! I could never do it myself, but I do have one good excuse: I row instead! I asked my friend Mihaela why she does it. She said it’s because of the positive effect of pushing herself beyond what seemed to be her limits (the competition against oneself!). She does it because it means getting involved in something that allows her to stay healthy, happy, and sane, to be in good company of other like-minded people, and last but not least, because of the joy and pride of succeeding… Mihaela, the long distance runner, added: “In the end, life itself is a marathon, we need to stay in shape for it!”

And what does it take? Obviously, if you decide to do something apparently extreme for your age, abilities, etc. - we are not talking only about an athletic endeavor - you will need to prepare mentally and physically: it will be… hard! If it were easy, anybody could do it, and then there would be no challenge to feel and speak about proudly for years to come. Then, you… “just do it!” Along the way, you have to be really diligent to distinguish between the real reasons for which it may make sense to consider giving up reaching the goal from the likely many clever excuses disguising themselves as important to us. Our brains are really good at making believe! Especially once you find yourself at the start line, you should not allow yourself to entertain the idea of not finishing your “race,” whatever that might mean in your case, except for a medical or technical emergency or some major disaster. Finally, do your very best!

If there is only one piece of good advice I would like to pass on, it’s the one I got myself from my aunt, ex-European rowing champion, when I finally found myself on the eve of my first 5K rowing race at the tender age of 40. I had watched with fascination her and her brother’s (my mother’s younger siblings) endeavors on TV. Both elite rowers, National and European champions, from my child perspective they both looked impossibly tall, strong, beautiful, young, and energetic, hero-like figures. Except, I also knew they were very human, ravaging our fridge at every visit, as they were eternally hungry! It may be this early deep admiration that made me eventually take up rowing after so many years…. my mid-life crisis? (I’d say it was a positive way to spend the surge of extra mental and physical energy.)

So, I called up my aunt and asked for her expert advice: “What secret tip do you have for my first 5 K race?” After what seemed a long silence at the other end: “Did you say this was your first? I assume you have no idea how hard this is going to be…” I panicked for a second (“Am I crazy to try this?”), then she continued: “That is OK! At some point it is going to start feeling hard, REALLY hard...” I plastered my ear closer to the receiver, expecting her to whisper some magic formula... “You will see no reason to continue the race… then… you will just need to KEEP GOING, just don’t stop!” I was stunned; “That’s it?!?” I was very disappointed, I had expected some major insider revelation from my extremely successful advisor that would give me the competitive advantage I so desperately needed. The answer came back, simple and practical: “Yes, that’s it! Just keep going, go through the motions, even if your brain will tell you to stop – it’s just lack of oxygen! That’s pretty much the major secret in a long race!”

P.S. As much as I did not think at the moment that I had gained any new competitive advantage, during that race and many others that followed in rowing and in life, I had plenty of opportunities to remember my coach’s advice… it works!

Getting the high and the glow the healthy way

This morning when the alarm clock went off, it was like trying to resurface from the depth of a dark ocean. My eyelids were so heavy I could barely pull them up. No chance of moving any of my limbs… or so it felt. I had worked late into the wee hours of the morning, again! I briefly considered blowing off my exercise and sleeping another hour, but then I gathered all the determination I was capable of and somehow stumbled into my boat and onto the water. After a few minutes of easy rowing, I already felt better.

It never fails, this “high”: the surge of energy when I manage to get myself to work out even if initially I had thought I had none left. Maybe it’s the light recharging that pineal gland, which Descartes thought was the connection between our body and our intellect ; maybe it's the fresh air oxygenating my brain, or the movement of the water, sun and clouds. Whatever it is, I am then as able to work as after a very restful night. Working out in the sun also works wonders fr me when I am jet lagged.

And the "glow"? I come from the land of Transylvania (the real one). Being tanned and skinny was not cool in my grandparents' farmers community. Being tanned and skinny were characteristics of people working all day long in the fields. On the other hand, being pale skinned, maybe a bit pink, and plump was a luxury only well off people could afford. I will never forget the subtle disappointment expressed by my grandmother upon meeting my soon-to-be-husband: “He is handsome…. but he is surely dark skinned”…

I now live in a society where people are obsessed with being tanned and skinny. They are willing to pay serious money to be spray-painted with brown chemicals and to lose weight by any possible, as well as close to impossible means…

So where do I stand on this issue? Well, I do prefer being tanned and toned, even if not skinny... I also truly enjoy working outside, but my actual work does not really call for that. I am making time to be outside and work out in the sun. And, I don’t mind receiving compliments for my brown glow. What would my grandmother say if she could only see me now…

Earning the right to be considered a Master

I was talking to a friend who does not row… yet! (yes, I still have some of those…. more recruiting work needed). I had just mentioned that I was training for a “Masters” rowing competition. Her eyes opened big; “Oh, I did not realize that you were THAT good!” I smiled (yes, I could remember making the same assumption before I knew better), and after taking a brief moment to bask in the glory of that comment, I clarified to insure I was given the proper credit: “you know, being called a Master it’s actually a matter of age, anybody who rows past the age of 26 is called a Master Rower”. I just learned from other competitive athletes that different sports bestow the Masters “title” based on other specific age limits. So, this made me think, is being a Master really just a matter of age? Upon further reflection, I think that I might have needed to add something else to my previous statement.

Among many things I learned during my rowing years is the appreciation for “aging gracefully”, which for me is not so much about acceptance of aging, but about living at its fullest no matter what your age is. When registering for a competition we all have to disclose our age, which may feel uncomfortable in the beginning. Then, if you look around, you will most likely think: “wow, are these people really the age they said they were?!?” They all look so much younger and fitter than what you would normally expect for someone at that age. You may think: why would anybody in their right mind say they were older?!? Well, when competing, being older has its benefits. There are different age categories or, if needing to compete directly against younger people, one’s age is recognized by awarding them a time handicap.

I still remember one particular 5 km head race. In such races, rowers are released through the start ("chute") one by one, like beads on a string. Each one seems to compete only against themselves, although if people who started after you are catching up and passing you, you can pretty much expect that their time will better than yours. So, in this race, I passed several people and by the time I finished I could still not see on the horizon any of the rowers who started after me. I pretty much expected to win the race. Yet, when the results were posted, I saw that my time (of twenty something minutes) was bettered by a tenth of a second (!!!) by a woman significantly older than me. And I never saw her or this coming: her handicap was of almost two minutes… My initial shock turned into awe. I actually felt very inspired by it: wow, she really deserved to win! I could only hope that I would pull a race like this in twenty years! She actually looked for me to congratulate me, then she said smiling: “well, a tenth of a second it’s less than a breath. Next time, don’t you waste even a second thinking before you pull your oars because…. I’ll be right behind you!” We became instant friends.

So, yes, you may need to be of a “certain age” or experience to qualify for being called a Master, but in sports as in life, you have to stay on top of your game to earn the right of actually being considered one.

"Get over yourself": be able to laugh at yourself

After learning to row and perfecting my technique and balance in a training single boat for almost a year, I finally decided it was time to graduate to a "skinny" style boat, the type normally used in competitions. Of course with this change came the next challenge, the realization that I should now begin working on getting good enough to race.

Finally, the day of my first novice race came. I had practiced for this day for the past few months and now I only had to put it to good use. We had travelled with my club to another city and I was now rowing a beautiful white skinny boat toward the starting dock. The boats in my race were called to align at the start line. Maneuvering in a tight space a skinny boat with its wide reaching oars is a task that can be daunting even for an experienced rower. Moreover, there were many referees and other competitors watching. I pulled all my power of concentration together and a few moments later I was happy to remark that I had a perfect alignment in the center of my lane. I rolled up my chair to the start position, a rather delicate balancing pose. It was time for me to calm down enough to hear the imminent cue that would unleash the explosive motion needed to the start the boat. The sky was blue, the water was calm, I could have not wished for any better conditions. I looked down the nicely buoy-aligned course, trying to visualize the finish line 1 K ahead, rapidly coming closer and closer to me. I felt the trepidation of the moment, like a race horse fidgeting before the gate opens, I had to close my eyes to calm down and get myself into 'the zone': "I can do this! I can do this!"

It seemed that it was taking way too long to hear the start signal. Instead, a voice booms through the loud speaker: "Atlanta Rowing club… we have a problem!" (?!?) That meant me! I opened my eyes, finally looking outside the zone I had put myself in. I noticed that all the referees on the shore were laughing… at me?!? The booming voice continued: "Atlanta Rowing club… you'll need to turn your boat… 180 degrees!" Taking another look at the other boats helped me finally realize that my boat was pointing in the wrong direction… If any rowers are reading this they had probably already understood my conundrum... for others it may not be evident, but one rows backward. I had aligned my boat at the start as if I was going to run, not row in the race! Yes, everybody was laughing, referees, competitors, I bet they all told the story about this novice rower who perfectly aligned her boat in the opposite direction that day, ready to crash it into the start dock. In fact, this was so stupid of me, that I started laughing about it myself! I laughed so hard that I completely relaxed. I turned the boat around quickly, I no longer worried about how competent I looked. There was nothing more stupid than what I had already done. I was still giggling when they finally called the start.

I rowed my first race laughing… at myself! The time seemed to fly away and I still remember the exhilaration I felt during that race as if it was yesterday. What was even more amazing is that I ended up winning that race!

Knowing what I know now after several years of rowing, I can pretty much attribute that first win to my ability to laugh at my naiveté. This allowed me to completely get over it and focus on rowing in the race. Making possibly the biggest, stupidest mistake right at the beginning, and then getting over it, freed me from worrying about any other possible inadequacies. This does not even take into account the fact that I had most likely disarmed my opponents: what competition could they possibly have expected from a novice who did not even know which way the boat was supposed to move?

If you are a novice, making mistakes is inevitable, but getting over it and over yourself, is up to you. Otherwise, if you are dealing with a novice, never discount one who feels that there is no face left to lose…

Individual vs. team success

For a long time, I rowed by myself, working on improving my technique. I asked for advice and I took lessons every chance I got. I went to rowing camp. I practiced. I practiced. And practiced some more. I finally felt that it was time to test myself and signed up for races. When I started doing well even against more experienced rowers, I felt I would no longer hold others back, and thus it would be OK to go ahead and team up with someone in a double boat.

My double partner is very competitive and very successful, and meeting him leaves no doubts about it... I am intensely competitive myself, but my contest is mainly against myself and so I tend to focus my energies differently. When we started rowing together, we had a hard time getting a smooth row so I suggested we take a coaching session in the double. The coach watched us for a while and gave us some specific individual advice; however, he added that while we were both accomplished rowers, the most important objective when aiming to successfully row in a team is: "This is not the time to concentrate on doing what usually works for your own personal best, all your efforts should go into understanding how you can help maximize the team's output."

The advice, as simple as it may seem, opened our eyes to the secret of optimizing team work: as part of a team, one has to adjust own capabilities and style to accommodate for the best fit with the other(s). We learned that could even mean de-emphasizing some of the very things that worked best for our individual competitive success. I am shorter than my partner, so I will have to stretch beyond the limit I perfected during years of practice to maintain the flawless balance of my single boat no matter what the speed. My partner, on the other hand, will have to actually cut short his reach effectively lowering his competitive output, so that our oars could remain parallel at all times. After the initial adjustment period, we started enjoying rowing together, and then we started doing very well competing as a team.

Team work comes with perks: we move easier by splitting the effort and can rely on each other to split the duties (one keeps the race pace, the other can concentrate on charting the course), and we encourage each other. And, yes, we do occasionally fight, but then we both always learn something from it… and we schedule yet another team row.

Become a better person: celebrate your competitors

My best ever birthday party was a surprise one, but not the kind friends lovingly plan well in advance. My best birthday party was a celebration spontaneously thrown by… my competitors!

I was part of a rowing team participating in a 5K head race. As usual in such races, boats have to row way back past the start line and then wait patiently their turn to be called to engage in the race. All the competing teams registered in our category were gently maneuvering against the river currents, trying to maintain their on hold position. The tension was palpable. We were all secretly checking out the other teams, while nevertheless trying to stay composed and to visualize our own victory. There is a definite respect we all have for anybody who shows up for such Masters races. We come from all walks of life. We all have different life stories and our own rowing histories… Some of these people might have lived glorious days of winning in national and international competitions, some learned to row while in college, and some of us started much later in life, like myself. Yet we were all there for this race, willing to engage into a fair competition. Before it would be all over there was no way of telling the amount of mental and physical power concealed under those sun glasses, caps, club colors, and, of course, those wrinkles. Did I mention that we all tend to display at least some in my age category? Sweat does not mix well with make-up or mascara…

As if just to break the tension-loaded silence, suddenly one of my team mates blurts out loudly enough to be heard by the other boats in our race that it was my birthday! I was so startled that I almost lost control of the oars and I felt I might be sinking through the bottom of our boat. Spontaneously, all the surrounding teams burst into singing: "Happy birthday to yoooouuuu… Happy birthday to YOU!" I looked around me, thinking: "wow, they do not even know my name, and I do not know theirs. All they know is that I am another fellow rower." Some might add: one crazy enough to compete on her birthday, when she could be comfortably sitting in the shade on the river banks, sipping a cold drink. For all intents and purposes, I was also their competitor that day. The sun was close to setting, the water was sparkling with fire, we all were gathered and connected by our love for the sport and through our respect for the competition and the other participants – it was truly a magical moment!

With all due apologies to all my friends and family who took pains to organize many pleasant celebrations for me, this spontaneous minute-long river festivity enacted by my competitors still feels like the most special birthday celebration on my personal record…

Inspire others, make dreams come true

I was casually talking with someone who was nearing a "significant" birthday that year. She said one of the things she had always dreamed about was to… row. It made me so happy: here was a dream I could help make happen! To this day I get a smile when the e-mail she sent me a few months later flashes in front of my eyes. The message had one line only – written in one inch high letters: "I ROWED!!!"

If you've always wanted to learn to do something, no need to postpone. As the Nike slogan says: "Just do it!" There are many formal or informal ways to learn anything. It is important to know there will always be people not only willing, but actually really happy to help you get started – just like me. Many of those who are already driven by a passion not only “infect” others naturally, but actually have a vocation to engage novices. This is true not only for athletics, but for any other endeavors people have a real passion for. Specifically, if experiencing rowing is your dream, know that many enthusiastic rowers happily get involved in the annual "National Learn to Row Day", usually in early June (Goggle it for identifying local opportunities or contact USRowing at 1-800-314-4769 or members@usrowing.org).

If, on the other hand, you are the one who could help someone finally experience a dream by sharing your passion and knowledge, get involved and make it happen! You will enjoy it every time. Pass it on!