With yesterday’s victory still fresh in my mind, I’m cautiously
optimistic. I’m not a terribly superstitious person, but allowing
myself to imagine a second bump this afternoon too confidently seems
like tempting fate. I note with some dismay the gloomy weather,
thinking how miserable it will be to marshall in the rain.
Fortunately, the skies clear somewhat as I listen with friends to
radio commentary for the women’s 4th division in which MECBC’s W2 is
racing. Another terrific performance from them, bumping Addenbrooke’s
with ease, puts them at the top of their division and has us cheering.
The wind picks up a bit, but the rain holds off as W1 departs from the
boathouse to head to the marshalling stations, then up to the lock.
We’re chasing Anglia Ruskin today, and I’m sure they’re intimidated by
our practice starts as they follow us up the river. Yeah.
Intimidated. Not that I actually see their faces or anything because
my concentration is, naturally, in the boat, but I assume.
Four minute cannon scares the bejeezus out of me. Forgot how close we
were to it. One minute cannon, and the countdown starts.
BOOM. Bit of a shaky start, but nothing we can’t smooth out as we
wind up. Today, we actually finish our start sequence before we get
our first whistle. We’re gaining. Single whistles, and the water is
starting to get choppy. Two whistles, followed quickly by three, and
the water is really bouncing us around in the bows. Fortunately, we
didn’t have to cope for long as we catch them at first post. Woo-hoo!
Another bump! We collect and arrange our greenery, and then take
another gratifying victory row home.
Halfway there. Carb up and sleep well, ladies. Day 3 awaits.