The end of my BIRC 2010 race. Although I throw down the handle at the end of the race, on reflection I am pleased with the time and it is a fair reflection of where I could expect to be given the amount of training I had time to do.
Need to work on my technique and strength now...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4S84tdzzBA
Friday 26 November 2010
Monday 22 November 2010
100 year old rower
John Hodgson of Leeds has just completed the 2000m race in the British Indoor Rowing Championship. Having taken up rowing at the tender age of 93, John trains regularly with friends. He received a standing ovation from hundreds of spectators gathered at the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham yesterday.
Close but no cigar
My legs can still feel the burn from yesterday. The aim was to get under 6:30, I managed 6:32 which is respectable. But it hurt. Alot.
I read a vivid account of what it feels like to do an all out 2000m on the Concept2 forum, and I can't put it any better than an experienced indoor rower Lewin Hynes, who placed 3rd in the HWT men's 30-34 race this year:
So, let’s talk about the be all and end all of a 2000m erg race – pain. Despite all its complications and talk of efficiency, and free speed, and technique, the rowing stroke is very simple. The legs engage, the back levers past, the hands whip round, and the chain spins the fan. The harder you do this, the faster the boat goes; and the harder you do this the more it hurts. That hurt is what stops rowers from killing themselves to win but it is also what stops them from winning.
The pain isn’t instant, indeed the initial acceleration from standing start is a time of fun as I see my split drop down to international standard pace. I know this is unsustainable and reluctantly I find my rhythm and switch out of the start and into race mode. Then after that, it is time to assess where you are, and start to deal with the pain.
It starts as nothing more than the same cold ache in you thighs that happens when you climb the stairs quickly. I am irritated that I still feel this on the stairs, I feel that after 7 years of training I deserve not to experience this. My legs however, disagree, and have the casting vote. But in this race you are not going to reach the top of the stairs anytime soon, and so the pain builds, seeping outwards from the center of your thighs to skin, still dull and diffuse, but promising the fire to come. And at this point most you probably have only reached the second half of the first quarter of the race.
250m-500m There is a better than 50% chance that at this point you are not in the lead, so you think about pushing up. Chasing. You know you can’t and have to find your pace and hold it. The pain becomes that of accute overwork now, muscles straining and stretching as you try to do more. Beneath that lies the fire of acid and anoxia, the next 45 seconds to 500m passes in a flash.
500m -1000m Racing into the second quarter, rational thought leaves the room and diffuses into the dull roar of the ergs around you and everything becomes about the next stroke, and maintaining the split. Pain now blossoms fast and hard in other parts of your body, not just the thighs. And now it is the internal scald of hydrogen ions poisoning your metabolism. Your shoulders will have switched on fast to the hurt, cramping your stroke, tying up your movement. Arms too, blossom into bright fire, and in the triceps, one of the few muscle group not extensively exercised by rowing, a strange warning numbness develops. But, within this hell, you find a stabillity, an anger promising to get you through. Hatred of the opposition, your coach, the universe and everything in it, but mostly losing, fights back within you. The pain; insufferrable, consuming and growing as it is, is just another enemy to defeat. And then the 1000m mark hits you with the gentle sting of despair.
1000m – 1500m Chris Hoy’s mental chimp takes leave from the Manchester Velodrome, takes the train down to Birmingham just to sit on your shoulder gibbering and raging “you have to do all of that again you have to do it all again you have to do it all again, stopnowstopnowstopnow!”
If you are going to fail it will be here.
You don’t, but the loss of all hope of control, despair of ever going faster, and the fear of failure; all combine, react and ignite in your tinder dry throat, the flames leaping into your chest and scorching it raw. The skin on the back of your forearms and shins goosepimples up, some bizarre avatistic reaction to the acid poisoning your blood. You are being drowned by your own exertions, burned alive from within by the by products of your muscles, and you must not, will not ever let it stop.
This is the wilderness, the third 500m, an eternal, blasted wasteland. It is a black place, hope is abondoned, logic is absent, pain is eternal. It is the entrance to the hole that the last 500m.
1500m -2000m the numbers scroll down from 501m to 499m and you are faced with an impossibillity, you will now have to drive for home, This is the only place that willpower will take you beyond what you think you are capable of this is where you chase the guy in front. But to sprint you will have to expend more effort, which means you must accelerate the malevolent alchemy within your muscles that is steadily destroying you. Pain is already your world, and your body is an inefficient lizard like thing, co-ordinadtion failing and desperation clogging every motion. This the the hole, the space you dig in your own heart and mind, and fill it with acid, pain, heat and suffocation. Take a breath, dive down, see if you can stay there longer than the man on the machine next to you. You muscles hurt to the point of failure, you chest burns as if your are being suffocated, your joints feel swollen to the edge of breaking, and within this all, there is one point of light, one beacon of salvation. It is almost over. The numbers scroll towards 300m.
“Last 30 strokes, Up Two!”
maybe that was your own internal voice, maybe the chimp or possibly the devil herself. Would there be a difference anyway.
There is hope now, there is an end to the suffering, it is quantifiable, even though pain is your world, your world has been mapped. And you can see the horizon.
“Last 20, Up Two Again!”
Fog falls, hope is lost, you cannot work harder, 20 stokes could be 200, you cannot survive the increase, you cannot stop, the light at the end of the tunnel is a psychopath with a blowtrorch, you accept your own death.
“Last10!GO!”
and within death, within the failure of your own body, spastically levering the last fiteen seconds of consciousness away, with every muscle, every organ, every structure in flames, from bones to skin, the number slips from 100 to 0.
You can scream now, as you are born again from the ashes of your self-created fire. Your muscles relax, your blood pressure drops, and physical incompetence washes over you like a wave, as, slowly the pain starts to fade. It is a long way to the surface, you feel like you are drowning and struggle with you heel restraints like you would struggle for the surface, everything hurts but it is not getting worse, collapsed as you are here, alonside the aluminium and steel execution device called an Erg, it only get’s better from here on in.
I read a vivid account of what it feels like to do an all out 2000m on the Concept2 forum, and I can't put it any better than an experienced indoor rower Lewin Hynes, who placed 3rd in the HWT men's 30-34 race this year:
So, let’s talk about the be all and end all of a 2000m erg race – pain. Despite all its complications and talk of efficiency, and free speed, and technique, the rowing stroke is very simple. The legs engage, the back levers past, the hands whip round, and the chain spins the fan. The harder you do this, the faster the boat goes; and the harder you do this the more it hurts. That hurt is what stops rowers from killing themselves to win but it is also what stops them from winning.
The pain isn’t instant, indeed the initial acceleration from standing start is a time of fun as I see my split drop down to international standard pace. I know this is unsustainable and reluctantly I find my rhythm and switch out of the start and into race mode. Then after that, it is time to assess where you are, and start to deal with the pain.
It starts as nothing more than the same cold ache in you thighs that happens when you climb the stairs quickly. I am irritated that I still feel this on the stairs, I feel that after 7 years of training I deserve not to experience this. My legs however, disagree, and have the casting vote. But in this race you are not going to reach the top of the stairs anytime soon, and so the pain builds, seeping outwards from the center of your thighs to skin, still dull and diffuse, but promising the fire to come. And at this point most you probably have only reached the second half of the first quarter of the race.
250m-500m There is a better than 50% chance that at this point you are not in the lead, so you think about pushing up. Chasing. You know you can’t and have to find your pace and hold it. The pain becomes that of accute overwork now, muscles straining and stretching as you try to do more. Beneath that lies the fire of acid and anoxia, the next 45 seconds to 500m passes in a flash.
500m -1000m Racing into the second quarter, rational thought leaves the room and diffuses into the dull roar of the ergs around you and everything becomes about the next stroke, and maintaining the split. Pain now blossoms fast and hard in other parts of your body, not just the thighs. And now it is the internal scald of hydrogen ions poisoning your metabolism. Your shoulders will have switched on fast to the hurt, cramping your stroke, tying up your movement. Arms too, blossom into bright fire, and in the triceps, one of the few muscle group not extensively exercised by rowing, a strange warning numbness develops. But, within this hell, you find a stabillity, an anger promising to get you through. Hatred of the opposition, your coach, the universe and everything in it, but mostly losing, fights back within you. The pain; insufferrable, consuming and growing as it is, is just another enemy to defeat. And then the 1000m mark hits you with the gentle sting of despair.
1000m – 1500m Chris Hoy’s mental chimp takes leave from the Manchester Velodrome, takes the train down to Birmingham just to sit on your shoulder gibbering and raging “you have to do all of that again you have to do it all again you have to do it all again, stopnowstopnowstopnow!”
If you are going to fail it will be here.
You don’t, but the loss of all hope of control, despair of ever going faster, and the fear of failure; all combine, react and ignite in your tinder dry throat, the flames leaping into your chest and scorching it raw. The skin on the back of your forearms and shins goosepimples up, some bizarre avatistic reaction to the acid poisoning your blood. You are being drowned by your own exertions, burned alive from within by the by products of your muscles, and you must not, will not ever let it stop.
This is the wilderness, the third 500m, an eternal, blasted wasteland. It is a black place, hope is abondoned, logic is absent, pain is eternal. It is the entrance to the hole that the last 500m.
1500m -2000m the numbers scroll down from 501m to 499m and you are faced with an impossibillity, you will now have to drive for home, This is the only place that willpower will take you beyond what you think you are capable of this is where you chase the guy in front. But to sprint you will have to expend more effort, which means you must accelerate the malevolent alchemy within your muscles that is steadily destroying you. Pain is already your world, and your body is an inefficient lizard like thing, co-ordinadtion failing and desperation clogging every motion. This the the hole, the space you dig in your own heart and mind, and fill it with acid, pain, heat and suffocation. Take a breath, dive down, see if you can stay there longer than the man on the machine next to you. You muscles hurt to the point of failure, you chest burns as if your are being suffocated, your joints feel swollen to the edge of breaking, and within this all, there is one point of light, one beacon of salvation. It is almost over. The numbers scroll towards 300m.
“Last 30 strokes, Up Two!”
maybe that was your own internal voice, maybe the chimp or possibly the devil herself. Would there be a difference anyway.
There is hope now, there is an end to the suffering, it is quantifiable, even though pain is your world, your world has been mapped. And you can see the horizon.
“Last 20, Up Two Again!”
Fog falls, hope is lost, you cannot work harder, 20 stokes could be 200, you cannot survive the increase, you cannot stop, the light at the end of the tunnel is a psychopath with a blowtrorch, you accept your own death.
“Last10!GO!”
and within death, within the failure of your own body, spastically levering the last fiteen seconds of consciousness away, with every muscle, every organ, every structure in flames, from bones to skin, the number slips from 100 to 0.
You can scream now, as you are born again from the ashes of your self-created fire. Your muscles relax, your blood pressure drops, and physical incompetence washes over you like a wave, as, slowly the pain starts to fade. It is a long way to the surface, you feel like you are drowning and struggle with you heel restraints like you would struggle for the surface, everything hurts but it is not getting worse, collapsed as you are here, alonside the aluminium and steel execution device called an Erg, it only get’s better from here on in.
Thursday 18 November 2010
Indoor Rowing training
Only two days left before my third visit to the British Indoor Rowing Championships. Thankfully one final sprint training session left at half past six tomorrow morning.
Why do it?
Amateur sportsmen and women up and down the country will be asking themselves the same question as they run, cycle, gym or whatever else they do before work gets in the way of the training we would really like to do.
Well, I think the answer is simple. For professional sportspeople, they have training advice, nutrition advice, plenty of sleep and by definition, no day job. With this situation, they can get to near their true potential with the correct coaching. For the rest of us time limited folk, our training is far less frequent, even if we manage to do something every day. This means that most of us will never reach our true sporting potential.
A bad thing?
I don't think so. We have the possibility of improving our performance far more significantly compared to professionals because even small changes can have a dramatic impact. Those small changes applied continuously by coaches and applied with all that time are far more haphazard and infrequent for the rest of us, leading to material improvements.
A great indoor rowing example is the change you will find when incoporating speed interval work from a good training plan where previously the rows were of generally consistent pace and longer uninterrupted duration. For a great example plan check out The Pete Plan, developed by Pete Marston, a well known and very successful indoor rower.
thepeteplan.wordpress.com
Why do it?
Amateur sportsmen and women up and down the country will be asking themselves the same question as they run, cycle, gym or whatever else they do before work gets in the way of the training we would really like to do.
Well, I think the answer is simple. For professional sportspeople, they have training advice, nutrition advice, plenty of sleep and by definition, no day job. With this situation, they can get to near their true potential with the correct coaching. For the rest of us time limited folk, our training is far less frequent, even if we manage to do something every day. This means that most of us will never reach our true sporting potential.
A bad thing?
I don't think so. We have the possibility of improving our performance far more significantly compared to professionals because even small changes can have a dramatic impact. Those small changes applied continuously by coaches and applied with all that time are far more haphazard and infrequent for the rest of us, leading to material improvements.
A great indoor rowing example is the change you will find when incoporating speed interval work from a good training plan where previously the rows were of generally consistent pace and longer uninterrupted duration. For a great example plan check out The Pete Plan, developed by Pete Marston, a well known and very successful indoor rower.
thepeteplan.wordpress.com
Monday 15 November 2010
Hannibal Pull Ups
Nothing to do with rowing, but I was amazed when I saw this guy doing his thing. See YouTube bar at the bottom.
British Indoor Rowing Championships
As a serial underperformer in the 2000 metre distance, it's that time of year again. The British Indoor Rowing Championships are on Sunday November 21st at the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham. Several hundred competitors of all standards will be subjecting themselves to severe pain in full view of the crowd.
For those who have never been, it's quite an impressive event. There are around 100 Concept 2 rowing machines all linked together with computer cabling to a cinema screen set up behind the machines. This allows the competitors to be represented by a 'boat' avatar on the screen. The crowd can then watch the action unfold...
The World's fastest rowers complete the 2000m distance in around 5 minutes 50s - sometimes even a few seconds less.
I've managed a 6:34 and a 6:38 at the champs before now - nowhere near the 6:28 I have managed at home. The last 1000m of a full on 2000m race are pure pain as the legs are on fire by then, the room closes in around you and your lungs feel like they are going to burst...
I'll let you know how it goes. Will try to lift my left shoulder this year
For those who have never been, it's quite an impressive event. There are around 100 Concept 2 rowing machines all linked together with computer cabling to a cinema screen set up behind the machines. This allows the competitors to be represented by a 'boat' avatar on the screen. The crowd can then watch the action unfold...
The World's fastest rowers complete the 2000m distance in around 5 minutes 50s - sometimes even a few seconds less.
I've managed a 6:34 and a 6:38 at the champs before now - nowhere near the 6:28 I have managed at home. The last 1000m of a full on 2000m race are pure pain as the legs are on fire by then, the room closes in around you and your lungs feel like they are going to burst...
I'll let you know how it goes. Will try to lift my left shoulder this year
Indoor Rower Reviews
Having looked around for information on rowing machines for newcomers to the sport, I have found that the situation is not good!
With this in mind, I have created a rowing machine comparison website with a similar name to the blog -
Check out rowingmachineexpert.com - it's a work in progress, let me know what you think...
With this in mind, I have created a rowing machine comparison website with a similar name to the blog -
Check out rowingmachineexpert.com - it's a work in progress, let me know what you think...
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