So we are racing this week, coming up on Saturday. It's been so long since I've raced I forgot the subtleties, like how you really start getting 'zoned in'. It's kind of a hard feeling to describe, but everything just starts to fall away from your consciousness except for thinking about your race, almost like your field of starts to narrow and you are wearing blinders. It gets easier and easier to focus because you can feel your adrenaline start to pump up in anticipation. And every time you are out on the course practicing, you are thinking about what it's going to be like when you are screaming down the lake at maximum speed in a few days. Even looking at the starting docks, which have recently been added to the lake, I start to get anxious and nervous in my stomach, which is the natural reaction to pulling your boat into the starting line.
This week isn't the end-all, be-all for selection, but we are basically racing ourselves in two-person boats under simulated racing conditions so we get a sense of how people perform under a little more pressure than a typical practice. It's got a lame acronym (NSR, for National Selection Regatta). Anyway, it's a good chance for me to establish myself if I do well with the guys and the coach, and will start to prepare me for racing in Europe later this summer if I get selected to do so. Regardless, I love racing week because things start to get interesting - especially because coach can't beat the snot out of us with hard workouts since we need to be rested for the weekend.
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9 comments:
As Robert Maynard Hutchins once said, "Whenever I feel like exercise, I lie down until it passes."
Further proof, as though it were necessary, that the University of Chicago is the greatest school in the history of the universe.
By the way, Mike? That last comment was tongue-in-cheek.
The University of Chicago is clearly not the greatest school in the history of the universe. Just the greatest party school in the history of the universe.
Do you ever wonder what blue would taste like?
Just blue. Not a blue popsicle, not a blueberry. Just blue. Like, if you could taste a color, what would blue taste like?
You know who would know?
Tony.
You may think that by ignoring me, I will go away. You could not be more wrong, Mike.
This is the interweb, man. Instant communication. MY VOICE WILL BE HEARD! I WILL NOT BACK DOWN!!!
Sorry. Lost my cool there. Stress of blog commenting caught up with me. Not to compare great things to little, but it's kind of like the pressures of Race Week, wouldn't you say? Only more so.
I need a new post to comment on. I think I've run out of things to say here.
Lev, well done on the comments. New post forthcomings on the internets.
BTW, blue tastes like chicken.
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