We arrived at the boat house in good time to have some pre-race banter, moan about the cold weather and finally get the boat out. We were quite far down in the division so got to the Lock in plenty of time to get out of the boat, stretch and devour two big bags of sugar-loaded sweets while subtly sizing up the competition. I have never discussed kit and technique in as much frantic detail as I did before Winter Head.
After the tense waiting, it was time to get back in the boat and the familiar, inevitable sense of adrenaline kicked in as the marshals tried to hectically organise the myriad of boats out on the river. Then before I knew it, we had started racing. Our cox asked us to individually put the power down for the rest of the crew and the rate shot up. We managed to have a surprisingly balanced and relaxed race; for the first time, I did not feel like I might die when we were finally asked us to wind it down.
If anything stood out, it was Reana’s heavenly race baking, which I completely forgot about until we got back to the boat house and rediscovered it patiently and lovingly waiting for us.
I’m probably going to regret this, but for the next race, I hope we are able to push the rate even higher and emerge slightly more exhausted than we did this time around. After all, we are supposed to be well hard.
Ana Diac