Like bulls at the gate we await the start. Nerves give way to excitement, excitement to aggression. Mike bangs the gunwales with his giant hands, like prehistoric man banging clubs as a show of force before battle. “Alright, let’s do this thing.” The beauty of the rolling start is that the transition is subtle. Before you know it, you’re in it. Wilmington is 3rd at the start, San Diego 4th, and Pocock 5th. We are racing between 33 and 34 strokes per minute and Mike is definitely on his game. We have a good rhythm and I am ready as the pain tide floods. We are now well passed the “oh shit” moment and fully committed to the pain. By the first split at Riverside, we have a 9.548 second lead over Wilmington, 9.796 second lead over Pocock and a 15.876 lead over San Diego. What we don’t know is that, way back in 16th place, Minneapolis Rowing is charging hard and trails by only 3.941 seconds. Mike and Stormy had warned us that Minneapolis would be “gunning for us.” Their stroke seat, John Jablonio, is a member of the Rocky Mountain Rowing Club.
The yellow pyramid shaped one mile marker does not congratulate me on finishing the first of three miles. The yellow pyramid shaped one mile marker mocks me, a crushing reminder that there are two miles left to go. Minneapolis is now 3.559 seconds behind us. I hear Harry’s breath behind me, perfectly in sync with my own. That’s something. Focus on that. We take two breaths per stroke, 66-68 breaths per minute. Saliva flies from my mouth and nose. Spitting would upset the rhythm. I am in control. I am having The Tammy Talk (with all I have invested in this sport, I want to be there for every stroke) in my head. My reality shifts. It is not that I have only completed one mile and have two long miles to go. It is that I have already completed one mile and I only have two miles left before this amazing experience is over! I begin to tear off giant chunks of pain and chew on them voraciously. The pain is empowering, it is my fuel. It is my friend.
This is so much better than last year. Raedene has developed a calm and steady pattern of alternating Power 10’s; first for leg drive, then for length. Then leg drive, then length. As a coach I used to tell my coxswains not to continuously repeat the same command, as it would desensitize the crew and dilute the command’s intensity. But this is different. Raedene is not calling the same thing out of desperation, or because she doesn’t know what else to say. Raedene knows exactly what she is doing. Raedene is a natural born killer.
Through the Powerhouse Stretch we swing and fly. I don’t even remember seeing the two mile marker. At the Cambridge turn our lead over Minneapolis has increased to 4.520 seconds. All other boats are no longer in sight. We are alone, with 1980 somewhere far ahead of us. Out of the Cambridge turn we begin our sprint at 37 strokes per minute. This is part of our race plan. Mike told me on the way to the starting line, “when I go, be ready to go with me.” I am. He does. We all do. It is tremendous, vicious, primal. We are through. It is over.
Rocky Mountain Rowing Club maintains its’ 2nd place ranking by 4.780 seconds over Minneapolis. Today, out of 26 boats, only Rocky Mountain and Minneapolis are fast enough to stay within 5% of the winning 1980 boat.
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