End of the Beginning: Worcester and Gloucester (9/21 - 9/22/19)

Living Root representing strong at Worcester-
Red, Blue and Purple boats

"Now this is not the End.  It is not even the beginning of the End.  But it is, perhaps, the End of the Beginning."

~ Winston Churchill

In the Autumn of 1942, British and American troops drove back Rommel in North Africa.  At the Battle of El Alamein, the Allies secured the North African coast and Hitler was finally faced with a force between the combined American and British/Commonwealth equal to his.  The Allied forces could threaten fortress Europe from Britain, the Soviet Union and - what Churchill word term the "Soft Underbelly" - the Mediterranean front of Greece and Italy.

Like the Allied forces 77 years ago, I too reached the End of the Beginning this weekend.  (However, there was far less global survival on the line.)

Urvi, Ryan, Amie and I rolling into the Semis at Lone Gull
photo by: Erin Morin

Saturday
Race: Worcester Dragon Boat Festival
Location: Lake Quinsigamond, Worcester
Distance: 200 m
Times: Heat 1 - 52.5"; Heat 2 - 49.9"

Sunday
Race: Lone Gull 10k
Location: Good Harbor Beach, Gloucester
Distance: 10k
Time: 46:01

Purple Boat heading out to the Start Line
photo by: Mark Estrada

Sit Ready!
There's a lot of commotion to get to the start line. Everyone has to pile into the boat in an exact spot.  We have to go out on unfamiliar water and the captain has to steer us around unfamiliar buoys.  (Before Heat 1, Dave had to yell, "whoa, right side watch out" as a small green bobber we didn't see before slapped around against the boat.) There's turning around; there's other dragon boats with unfamiliar people milling about as they get to their start line.

But as you get to the start line and everyone is nearly lined up, there is moment of peace.  The paddle is buried into the water. The starter isn't yelling; no one is joking around in the boat.  It's peaceful and calm.

On Saturday at the start of race 2, we sat there in silence.  In the 3 and a half months, this was really the metaphysical definition; I was ready. Since back in June was when I first picked up a dragon boat paddle again, from 11 years earlier. I talked to Fed about getting into racing.  He probably knew I wasn't the slightest bit ready for it.  Instead, he told me to look at Worcester at the end of the season. So I did, I imagined my training arc from that moment until that quiet moment on Quinsigamond. (Just in case non New Englanders don't have enough problem with Old English names of towns, e.g. Worcester and Gloucester, we decide for lakes to take the Nipmuck names; at least it wasn't being held at Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg.)

Then we were messing with Lester while he was trying to order BBQ
photo by: Mark Estrada

On Sunday, I stood on the backside of Good Harbor Beach "ready."  It was almost year since the Chicago Marathon and many months ago, I thought this would be the great "comeback" when I was finally healthy and finally ready to race for "real."  By two weeks ago at Salem, I had long since realized this was NOT going to be true. But here I was at a USATF Grand Prix race with many members of SRR and was a possible scorer for our men's masters team.


GO!!
For a moment, I'd like to hop into Mr. Peabody's WABAC Machine. January 3, 2019.  It was probably the beginning of one of the worst months of my life.  I got laid off and then tried to run 3 miles on the treadmill.  My knee hurt for a week and then I found out my thesis topic wasn't accepted.  Awful awful month.

Early on at Lone Gull, Dennis and I merged into one person: Jennis
I assume this picture is actually from Tim Morin since Erin was running (maybe it was Keagan?)

I recovered from that month well enough to pick up running again in March.  Several one mile runs on treadmills and indoor tracks eventually became 45 miles in April and 57 miles in May.

By June, I was done with my masters (new thesis topic and all) and itching to get out there.  I also knew that running right into the knee would cause problems.  So I kept my slow build of miles going (95 miles including a few attempts at fast ones).

However, this was not going to be enough.  That's when I returned to dragon boating.  I surprised Dave wearing an old school Living Root shirt to the Boston Dragon Boat Festival.  Talking with him and Mark, I got myself invited to the next Thursday practice.  Paired with Jeff on the boat I tried to remember everything I could from before (which was very little).  But for the next month, I tried to get to every practice and weight workout I could.

Thus on Saturday for the second heat, our blades were buried in the water.  I had Julien's back-up paddle instead of the t-ball bat sized ones that the festival had (below).  The air horn went off, Dave gave a yell and On banged the drum.  We paddled away.

Pablo!
photo by Mark Estrada

Power!
We got an amazing jump on the go.  There was a confidence (which Dave & Matt had both attempted to install* instill in us during the previous 2 weeks), and a pure power.  It felt like we knew what we were doing.  I noticed that I was reaching (and rotating a bit) without having to tell myself to do so. The leg drive from the nubs beneath the seats were driving my paddle harder and faster.  (Thanks to Alfonso for teaching me to leg drive from there instead of the side of the gunwale nubs).

In July and August, I dove into training.  I ran over 100 miles each month and paddled nearly 40 each time. Slowly, I watched myself move from a newbie in dragon boat and in recovery in running into a regular paddler and almost "normal" runner.

While there were constant reminders of how far I had come, there were equally constant remiders of how far I had to go.  On the roads and tracks, I would see the effort required to put in what previously wasn't a real fast pace.  On the water, the reminders were largely from the mouth of Mark Yuen to correct my form that could be described as "atrocious" at best.

Purple Boat racing the second heat
photo by Mark Estrada

On Sunday, I was determined to put what I could in.  But I remembered the failures of being too overconfident from Salem two weeks ago.  So the game plan was simple.  Start towards the middle, get over the first steepish hill and down the water to mile 2 before thinking about plans.  At mile 2, I readjusted.  I had put in two decent miles - 7:17 and 7:17.  And unlike two weeks ago I wasn't totally gassed yet.  Carrie-Anne in her all-black singlet and shorts was right ahead of me as we headed into the hilly neighborhood part of the race.  I put two more goals here: catch up to C-A in the next mile; run no 8 minute snowman miles.

I reached the first goal right at the 5k.  "I'm going to settle in behind you for a second,"  I said.  "Ok," she said, "I'll block the wind."  (A little tall guy and short girl joking here.)

Urvi, early on in the race
photo by once again Tim or Keagen

Settle!
I actually didn't settle in too long.  Within a minute or so, I pushed ahead.  I worried that I might be going too fast here.  I didn't want to crush myself early and get to the 5th mile and just have to reset with an 8 something mile.  So I just kept telling myself "no snowmen; no 8s." If I have to run a 7:59 that's fine.  But, I'm going to keep this up.

At the beginning of August, the dragon boat calendar started to get real.  I wasn't the new guy just trying it out anymore.  And we had two erg time trials at the beginning of the month.  Each of these were to be 2:15 and as far as you can go.  (One assumes there is some sort of 500m bench mark for men - but I could be wrong).  Needless to say I was still new to this.  First one was 432m and the second one was 438m.  I guess, on the plus side one can only go up from here.

Worcester also so the Living Root Dragon Boat's Dip Off!
Renen's Mexican refried bean** dip with delayed jalapeno won

The end of August brought me to my first race: Lowell.  While I was not on the boat that flipped, I was able to enjoy the whole day.  (Or maybe BECAUSE I was not on the boat that flipped...).  It also got my competition juices flowing again.  By the beginning of September, both the Pawtucket Dragon Boat Race and the Salem Road Race were on my target.  Neither of these went as well as I wanted them to.  But, they were nice bench marks and reminders that I was getting better and healthier.

Purple Boat's Second Race

video by Dave Parker

Saturday, our first heat didn't go as well as any of us wanted.  We didn't get off the line as well.  And the three other boats slowly pulled away from us.  We might have held the line for a while through the finish area.  But in the end, we finished 2.5 - 3 seconds behind.

But in the second race, after our massive start, we were hanging with the other boats in our heat.  We started the power and I saw through the periphery that we were pulling up on the team on the right.

Finish!
First there wasn't a settle and then Dave didn't even wait for us to complete the power.  He just shifted from "Get Some!" to yelling FINISH!

Sunday was much the same for me.  While I ran along the estuaries of the last mile trying to retain the last bit of cold water Tinger had flung upon me, I just pushed at slightly faster than I think I could have before the Finish sprint.

Andy and Ruth got shots of us on the finishing stretch on Saturday
Erin, Deb, Liz, me, C-A, Dennis, Mark, Gonzalez Victor and Urvi

Saturday the Finish command just propelled us faster.  The last 100m we just put everything in.  I put 3.5 months of training, 15 months of anger about my knee, 10 months of anger about my thesis into Julien's paddle and - in Fed's word's - "attacked the water with anger" while maintaining form and timing.

Sunday, I passed the 6 mile mark in the parking lot and then Paulo and Patrick who were sitting up against the dunes.  I realized there was less time in the 10k left than the entire 200m on Saturday. So I let everything out. I just heard Dave, still from Saturday, in my head yelling "FINISH! GET SOME! FINISH!"

Between the heats, many of us look for skipping rocks

Let it Ride!
Across the finish, I was totally spent.  On Saturday it was after breaking 50 seconds: 2.5 seconds faster than the morning heat.  On Sunday it was just over 46 minutes: 1 and a half minutes faster than Salem.

Both times I couldn't just stop.  On Saturday we needed to go into Hold Water - hard - unless we crashed into the other boat that angled into our lane after the finish.  On Sunday I needed to avoid vomiting and find shade.

The End of the Beginning.

And, thus, the Summer ends.  Purple Boat didn't make the final race.  But Saturday, Living Root Blue WON the Finals for the Worcester Championship! And on Sunday I scored for the SRR men's master team.

But for dragon boating or for running, it isn't the end or even the beginning of the end of my comeback.  Instead, it's only the End of the Beginning.

Living Root Blue Boat - Champs

Watch out for me at:
- Fenway Spartan in November
- Martha's Vineyard 20 miler in February
- Boston Dragon Boat Festival in June

Zicke Zacke Zicke Zacke....
We finished Sunday with some festbier and some of the worst wurst (true, not just a pun) at Notch

* - We're not computers but install did sorta work. But really I meant "instill."
** - Renen claims there are no beans in this dip.  While I'll take him at his word intellectually, my tongue doesn't have the same brain cells.