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If you enjoy frustrating rowing, cold water, long distances, and spectacular scenery, then open-water rowing is for you. It expanded my idea of what the sport has to offer, a new way to experience the challenges of Puget Sound. I was fortunate to team up with experienced folks from Lake Washington Rowing Club who helped me embrace this brave new world.


Squaxin Island race course with the Olympic Mountains as a backdrop


One of the many benefits of rowing in the Pacific Northwest is the strong open-water rowing community. The Sound Rowers and Paddlers race series, which takes place across Western Washington, offers a variety of courses and distances. These laid-back races typically launch from local waterfront parks and marinas, providing a “relaxed” racing experience. The ethos is more about showing up and getting challenged by the conditions than competing against elite crews.


Rat Island race day vibes


I participated in four of the Sound Rowers and Paddlers races this season. The first two races, La Conner and Squaxin Island, were exceptionally flat and didn’t live up to the 'open-water' experience. In the third race, the Rat Island Regatta, I finally got what was promised. We encountered true open-water conditions: unpredictable swells, ferry channels, and stiff winds. More than a mile from shore, in the middle of the race course, I realized just how serious these races could get. The racing conditions demanded a new level of focus.




ACTUAL open water rowing - Rat Island


My doubles partner, Josh, and I capped off our racing season by competing in the Bainbridge Island Marathon, one of the longest races, which circumnavigates all 26 miles of Bainbridge Island’s coastline. We completed the full marathon to put an exclamation point on the season. The most difficult part was the last two miles of unpredictable swell, which rocked us back and forth on our hard plastic seats. By the end, my sore glutes were screaming.



After the marathon



Also, after the marathon


Less than perfect rowing.


Evan Jacobs instilled this wisdom in me: Open-water rowing isn’t about taking the perfect stroke; it’s about taking the best possible stroke. This really resonates. There were races this year where conditions simply didn’t allow for perfect strokes. Patience is a virtue in open water—you’re bound to take some terrible strokes, and your only option is to make the next one count. Applying this mindset to all rowing is valuable.


Expect the unexpected.


Flat water rowing can be unpredictable, but open water takes it to a whole new level. The swells, currents, tides, wakes, eddies, and debris all make for a dynamic experience. You’ll get plenty of practice sighting your line and trying to use the wind, tides, and currents to your advantage.


Gloves and seat pads are cool.


Get yourself a pair of baseball batting gloves and start experimenting with seat pads. I learned this lesson the hard way after destroying my hamstrings during the 13-mile race around Squaxin Island. Check your ego—your hands, hamstrings, and butt will thank you.



Boats on bigger boats


The mass start.


There are no organized lanes or neatly spaced start intervals here. Starting en masse at some of the larger Sound Rowers races adds an extra element of excitement. Jockeying for position while trying to shake off surfskis and high-performance kayaks from your wake is all part of the experience.


Rowers aren’t the only weirdos out there.


Paddlers make up a big portion of the racers. Awkwardly locking eyes with a surfskier as they ride your wake was a new experience. It can be a symbiotic relationship though—the paddler, with the advantage of sitting and facing forward, can help you sight your line.




MacGyvering



Sometimes you pull over on I-5 to tighten things up a bit


Logistical nightmare.


There’s nothing practical about the sport of rowing. We spent countless hours MacGyvering boats onto the tops of cars. Transporting equipment, timing ferries, and navigating beach launches are all part of the rowing experience in the Northwest. Perhaps the most loathsome part of a long race day is soaping and rinsing the saltwater off the boats when you return to the boathouse.




Washing boats... the worst part of the day


As with all rowing, being on the water in beautiful places with teammates and friends is what it’s really all about. The Sound Rowers races offer a fresh perspective on the natural beauty we’re fortunate enough to be surrounded by in Western Washington. Access to flat-water rowing is great, but once you’re bored of doing loops around your local waterway and looking for something more adventurous, look no further than open-water rowing.


Look at that stroke length!


A couple weeks ago I had the good fortune of visiting the Craftsbury Outdoor Center in Vermont. For those who have never been it’s affectionately described as “Adult Summer Camp” by the athletes at Lake Washington Rowing Club. It feels a world away from the hustle of life here in Seattle. Exactly what a summer camp should be.


Craftsbury is situated on Hosmer Pond, a quaint little body of water, populated by Loons, and nestled in the Vermont countryside. The setting is a calming and enjoyable place to row but the real value of Craftsbury is the exposure to different coaching perspectives. Different perspectives can be challenging. Often times they offer competing information from what we’ve been taught. It requires patience and openness.


I frequently see athletes and coaches buy-in fully to one way of doing things. Closing your mind off to different ways of rowing ultimately limits you and your athlete’s development. By willingly seeking and exploring different approaches to the sport you’ll truly be taking steps toward mastery.


Coaches love working with athletes who can adapt to any scenario. These athletes approach every practice as an opportunity to learn. Are you open to executing a change a coach is asking for? Can you effectively get into a boat with different people and different line ups? Are you able and willing to try an unfamiliar drill? Ask yourself these questions before you head out on the water this week.





I’m not suggesting that you follow all your coaches blindly. Asking coaches questions to clarify their approaches and philosophies is valuable. It helps coaches understand how to serve the needs of their athletes. The coach/athlete relationship needs to be one of trust and openness.


Approach your rowing with an openness and patience. It can be confusing at times to make sense of competing information but the more perspectives you expose yourself to the closer you’ll come to mastery.




I attended an advanced sculling session a couple weeks ago and got my ass kicked. We spent the whole practice focused on the catch. It was the most aggravating 90 minutes of rowing I’ve had since I learned to row as a novice in college.

 

Out of my comfort zone in open water


To cap off the practice we did a head to head 1000m piece with a racing start. The coaches started me and my opponent/teammate right into the wake of an oncoming motor boat. I imploded. The wake hit me, my blade work faltered, and I let the whole moment destroy any shred of morale I had left. I half-heartedly tried to catch my teammate and when I couldn’t manage that I limped across the line feeling annoyed, flustered, and exhausted.

 

For days I tried to make sense of what had happened. “I’m an experienced rower,” I reassured myself. I had spent countless hours in the boat this year. Why wasn’t I able to execute the drills well? Why wasn’t I more resilient in the face of adversity?

 

A couple days later I got out on my own in the single. I didn’t have any agenda I just wanted to go out and enjoy myself. I had one of the BEST sessions of my life. Everything seemed to click. I was relaxed and unflappable despite suboptimal conditions. In fact, every session in the single since that discouraging practice has been better than my practices before.

 

That fateful session was an important lesson in the “comfort zone”. The comfort zone is exactly that… comfortable. Too comfortable. It’s not where you grow. If you aspire to get faster, row better, and improve in the sport you’ll have to get outside of it. It’s up to you to decide whether you do that.

 

The discomfort comes first. The growth comes later.

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