There are some things Masters rowers talk about openly. Technique. Training. Regattas. Boat speed. And then there are the things we don't talk about. The little habits, thoughts and behaviours that we'd perhaps rather keep to ourselves. Until now.
In the interests of honesty, transparency and absolutely no judgement whatsoever, it's time to come clean.
Welcome to…
Confessions of a Masters Rower
Confession #1: I check the wind before I check my messages.
Some people wake up and look at the news. Masters rowers open the weather app. Wind speed. Wind direction. Rain radar. Then another weather app, just in case the first one is wrong. Anything under 10 knots is greeted with optimism. Anything over 15 leads to intense analysis of whether the lake might somehow be protected from a southerly. We already know the answer.
We check anyway.
Confession #2: I've secretly hoped rowing would be cancelled.
You know those mornings. The alarm goes off. It's dark. You're tired. Your body hurts. You lie there hoping your phone will ping.
"Morning all. Conditions aren't looking great…" YES! Obviously, you immediately reply:"Oh that's such a shame." And go back to sleep.
Confession #3: I've blamed the boat.
The boat wasn't running. The balance felt wrong. The rigging seemed strange. The foot stretcher wasn't quite right. The oars felt different. There are approximately 47 possible explanations for a bad row before we arrive at:"Maybe it was me."
Confession #4: I've said “just a gentle row” and not meant it.
"Let's just have an easy paddle today." Lovely. Relaxed. No pressure. Ten minutes later: "Shall we do ten legs on?" Then twenty. Then a piece. Then someone quietly asks what the split was. There is no such thing as a gentle row when two Masters crews can see each other.
Confession #5: I have absolutely raced another boat that didn't know we were racing them.
They were simply rowing down the lake. We were also rowing down the lake. But then they started getting slightly ahead. This was unacceptable. Nobody said anything. The rating just mysteriously increased. We won. They remain unaware that a race took place.
Confession #6: Getting out of the boat is sometimes harder than rowing it.
Getting in? Fine. Rowing several kilometres? Fine. Getting out after sitting compressed in the same position for an hour? Different story. Nothing says elite athlete quite like four Masters rowers reaching the beach and then trying to unfold themselves.
"Just give me a second…"
Confession #7: I've experienced phantom technique improvements when someone starts filming.
The phone (or Alf) comes out. Suddenly everyone sits taller. Finishes become cleaner. Hands move beautifully together. Posture improves by approximately 40%. Alf or the camera goes away. Normal service resumes.
Confession #8: I own more rowing clothes than normal clothes.
There was probably a time when buying clothes meant choosing something nice to wear to dinner. Now the important questions are: Is it quick-dry?Does it have pockets? Will it work at 5:30am? And can I row in it? Bonus points if it has the club logo on it.
Confession #9: I've given technical advice I don't always follow myself.
"You're rushing the slide." "Sit tall." "Relax the shoulders.""Don't open the back too early." Excellent advice.
I personally intend to start following it any day now.
Confession #10: I can discuss one rowing session for considerably longer than the session itself.
A 60-minute row can comfortably generate 90 minutes of post-row analysis. The start. The balance. That good piece past Alf's. The questionable piece after the bridge. The wind. The other crew. The rating. The Dragon boat near-miss. And, of course, what we should do next time. Preferably over coffee.
Confession #11: I complain about early mornings… and then miss rowing terribly when I can't do it.
This may be the biggest confession of all. We complain about the alarm. We complain about the wind. We complain about carrying boats. We complain when the boat doesn't run. We complain when someone rushes. We complain when our bodies refuse to behave like they did 20 years ago.
And yet, give us a few weeks off through injury, illness or life getting in the way and we'd give almost anything to be back at the lake before sunrise, carrying a boat and arguing about who has which seat. Because somewhere along the way, rowing becomes more than exercise.
It's the water. The challenge. The ridiculous conversations. The coffee. And, most importantly, the people you share it with.
So there you have it. The secrets of the Masters rower are officially out. Now the question is… How many did you recognise yourself in? And if the answer is none… That's probably confession #13:
I've lied about my rowing habits.
