The Olympics Are Here!

And with the Olympics, Internet, come great stories like this one: the other great race of the 1936 games that no one ever hears about.  And it's stories like this one that keep a girl like me watching.  You never know what can happen!

Also exciting to me is to watch "hometown" people compete (like this one who isn't exactly hometown, but close enough!), and friends I've met along the way (like this one, who I met and raced at a regatta a couple of years ago).  Best wishes to them as they row.

For the next couple of weeks, you'll know where to find me!  I'll be watching, following, and cheering all sorts of sporting athletes.  I love the Olympics!

xoxo,
Minny LinnEy

Veni, vidi, ...um, what's the Latin word for "I vomited"?

Hello, Duluth Internet!  

This weekend I went up nort' to race.  

***Disclaimer: this report is kind of gross if you don't like vomit and such.  Do not continue reading if you dislike that sort of thing.***

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Since you're still reading, Internet, I will consider you to have asked for it.  

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So.  This weekend we all went up to Duluth to race some boats.  I was expecting 70s and rain for weather.  Instead, we got 90s, humidity, and sun.  Oh, meteorologists.  And seriously, oh, the baking sun.  I do not like humidity & heat, much less racing in those sauna-like conditions.  But out we went.  

Looks can be deceiving: doesn't it look pleasant?  This was the 4+ race my teammates did without me because I was going to race the 1x.  Silly me.  Or maybe smart them.  

First up for me: the single (or 1x, if you want to learn the lingo before the 'lympics).  This is me in the 1x before the race:

I am still all smiley here and have no idea that in a few short moments I will be vomiting during my race...well, maybe I had a little bit of premonition: it was hot, and I was nervous.

You might think that it would not be possible to be too hot and yet not warmed up at the same time, but trust me, Internet, it is most definitely possible.  Because of a variety of factors, such as the burning-hot heat, not being warmed up, nerves, over-tiredness, and possibly drinking too much coffee too close to a race, I have now cemented my reputation as a single's puker, because I have only ever thrown up whilst exercising three times in my life, and all of them involved rowing a 1x (or this one time, an erg), all of them involved humidity and heat, and all of them involved being overtired.  Puke-ahontas.  That's what I am.  (Or since it haunts me, maybe it's Puke-a-haunt-us?  Whatevs.)  

So let's just say the first 500 meters of that 2,000 meter race were not all that fun.  But I did not stop rowing, not ever, no matter what, not during or after the incident.  That's also the trademark of the Pukahontas.  Don't stop.  I mean, I had to get back somehow, right?  And I wanted to get there fast.  It's not like I was going to find some cool relief on the water, so I might as well get off the water as soon as possible.  So after that little distraction, I started to feel much better, and I found a nice rhythm and carried on.  Unfortunately, I'd already lost a lot of ground (er, water), so I only finished fifth out of seven, but I was fine with that.  (Even if I hadn't thrown up, I'm pretty sure that's where I would've finished anyway, just not with so much open water between me and places 1 through 4.)  Also, it was so freaking hot, that the coffee vomit I'd tossed onto my racing jersey had dried by about 1500 meters, I kid you not.  And then when I got off the water, my teammates and coach wanted to know if a bird had pooped on me.  Um, no.  

Final meters of the race.  I look tired and slouchy even in the first race of the day.  I then proceeded to do this three. more. times.  (The racing, not the puking.)  

So after I got off the water and washed my racing jersey out with a hose that sprayed delightfully cool water, and then put the wet jersey back on, I felt much better.  Next up: the 8+.  That actually went quite well, all things considered.  I did not toss any more cookies (or any other food stuffs or liquid, for that matter) for the rest of the day.  I'm proud of the girls, and we came in second in that race.  It's not quite where we want to be, but we were okay with our progress and will work hard to get better before our championship regatta next month.  

After that, I was toast.  Literally baking, my legs felt like marshmallows.  You go out on the water, and with no breeze, you just bake to death.  Then you race a 2k and pray you make it to the end, and then you just can't wait to get off the water and find a tree to die under.  Then you sit in a tree-shaded camp chair in a stupor for a li'l while, and pray that you will just be put out of your misery.  You wonder how you're going to do that again two more times.  

So.  What did I do then, you ask?  I drank about a gallon of gatorade, another gallon of water, and then ate a bit.  And then of course I went out in a 4x and did another 2K.  The third one was awful.  I had marshmallow legs that didn't like me, and that was very unhelpful in trying to get a boat to move down the course faster.  My apologies to the girls, let's move on.  

Next up: the 2x.  My doubles partner and I were basically done for the day and decided to kinda-sorta mail it in.  We were both tired and cranky (at least I was cranky), even though her mom was especially kind and brought more water & drinks for the team, and that was awesome.  (But then her mom also wouldn't let me eat any cookies before the last race, either, even though I hadn't thrown up in, like, six hours at that point.)  

We were only moving slightly less slowly in this picture than in our 2x race.  After consuming so much liquid throughout the day, I'm pretty sure we ran to the bathroom faster than we raced that 2x.

The wind had shifted between our third and fourth races, so thankfully God had given us a tail wind and was pushing our sorry bodies down the course.  This was very good since we were both tired and really didn't want to work that hard.  We weren't doing that great in the first 1,000 meters, but then we settled in at a really low, steady state rating (kind of out for a nice little paddle...with a bit of pressure), and somehow our legs made a miraculous comeback, and astonishingly we took second.  Since we lost to a crew that had a college girl who rows for a big east coast school, we were quite happy with second.  

After that, we all went and jumped in Lake Superior, which was blissfully cool for about 20 seconds, and then seemed rather warm.  Even so, my legs felt much less marshmallow-y after that, for which I am still grateful more than a day later.  Our only regret is that we didn't jump in the lake between each race!  Duh.  

And then the eating commenced.  As you know, Internet, I love to eat.  It makes me sad to be unable to eat (or worse, have what I've eaten decide not to settle in and stay a while).  So dinner was a delight, followed shortly by a DQ strawberry blizzard, and a late-night snack when I finally got home.  

All in all, it was fun now that I'm no longer sweating to death and being beaten into submission by the sun and humidity.  I have some weird spots on my left leg, either the result of poorly applied spray sunscreen, or bug bites.  I am sore in some weird places.  But other than that, good times.  (Air conditioning today is like brain washing: so soon, I am quickly forgetting the agony.)  

I will leave you with one of my favorite pictures of the weekend, taken by my teammate Alisa: the men's 8+ won, so they got to throw their coxswain in the lake in celebration.  (I'm almost glad to have not won.  I'm not sure if we would have had the energy to haul our coxswain to the water.)  To the non-rower, it looks like she's planking.  To the rower, you can clearly see the "up and overhead" call (as if she's a boat they're about to put in the water).  

xoxo, 

Minny "Pukahontas" LinnEy