[Previous: "Boing boom tschak"] [Back to blog] [Next: "eBay Lesson #2"]
I recorded my fastest time yet on the rowing machine -- called an erg -- this morning (er, Sunday morning) before rowing practice.
Once a month, the rowers in our boat meet to pull a timed 2K on the erg to see whether we've improved. It's called an erg test, and it's absolute hell. Some of us sometimes wuss out and don't show. What if you end up the weak link? What if you can't finish? It's not uncommon for rowers to get sick and have to stop. It's nerve-racking. Stressful. Stomach-turning. Exhausting. Dreadful.
I went in thinking I would never beat my previous best time of 8 minutes, 20 seconds. Hell, I was proud of that score. I guess because of that, I wasn't that nervous. Plus, I had managed to grab a shitty erg with a rusty chain. Oh well. The pressure was off; do what I can and get it over with.
Eight minutes, 10.8 seconds after we started, I was done and lying on the floor gasping for air. OMG, I had shaved 10 seconds off my personal best. My finish time ranks me squarely in the middle of my boat -- which I'm perfectly satisfied with, considering I'm the second-shortest person (height is a big advantage because your stroke is longer). By comparison, the strongest rower -- also the tallest -- pulls a 2K in 7:23.
Our coach would like us all to be able to pull 8-minute 2Ks by the end of the summer. I'm getting there.
Current mood: Excited