Not knowing what to expect this weekend at the Tromp Boat Races made it easy to not get nervous beforehand. I kept telling myself there was no need to stress, it’s just my first race with a new club in a new place with no real expectations… just have fun with it… As a rower who rows for the training aspect of rowing and seldom enjoys the racing part of rowing, it can be very difficult to enter a race feeling self-assured, confident, and ready for anything the day has to throw at you. This time I decided that I had a very rare opportunity at a fresh start. Time to fake it till I make it! This worked up until I got on the train to set off on the about 1hr long commute from Leiden to Hilversum. I started the train ride with finishing up the RowShow podcast’s interview with Steve Trapmore about his experience coaching the GB Men’s Olympic 8+ in Paris, listening intently to his descriptions about the pre-race nerves inevitable for any race, big or small. I always find it comforting to preface my own preparation with some insight from people much more experienced and ordained in the sport of rowing than myself, as it always helps remind me that it really just is rowing, not a life-or-death scenario. Feeling confident, I switched to the erg playlist I have carefully curated over the last 5 years to effectively execute a pre-race hype-up and include songs that will stick in my head enough that I can effectively sing to myself silently when the going gets tough in the last kilometer of the race. I read over my race plan again, refreshing where the turns would be and trying to imagine how sharp they would be, then BOOM, the second I visualized actually sitting in the skiff rowing up to the start line, every single thing I had told myself leading up to this point as a reason to relax and just have fun with it backfired. “Just have fun, it’s your first race with a new club” turned into “Oh. My. God. It’s my first race with a new club what the hell was I thinking!!!?? This is the absolute last scenario you should relax in Mary!!!” What once had been a serene wave of relaxation immediately switched straight back into the typical nauseating nerves, but this time with a bit more excitement than usual.

Once I arrived at the racecourse, I set off on the typical duties: rigging the boat, wiping down the slides, finding my oars, and bringing them to the dock. I strapped my seat pad into the boat, grabbed my water, some gummies for the marshalling area, and my SpeedCoach, and then stood around nervously thinking again over my race plan and having my pre-race coach’s chat, then some more nervous standing. Then, finally, it was time to walk down to the dock and launch. Shoving off the dock, I happily realized that my playlist was, in fact, stuck in my head so I focussed in for the warmup, silently playing songs in my head. As a first-time racer at the TBR, I tried my best to keep my head in the boat and focus in, but that was a bit difficult to do since I had been told to expect alpacas next to the racecourse. I did, however, manage to complete my warmup with minimal distractions, but with about 7 re-checks of my bow number because every time I would look, I would forget it again. Finally, lined up in the correct place, in the correct sequence, singles set off one-by-one, and the race was underway! “Short catch, short finish, rate up” repeated over and over in my head for the entirety of the race. Passing under the bridges and through the clearings, I would receive some cheers, some technical feedback, all of which likely got a pain-stricken glance in their direction, and all of which helped it feel just a bit more fun. What seemed simultaneously like an eternity after the start, but also completely suddenly, I saw the final 500m sign. Executing the same series of counting strokes I had done since I started rowing, I counted my way to the finish line, amazed that I could pick my name out of the roar of cheering leading into the final few hundred meters. And alas came the finish. After a solid minute of coppery coughs and heavy breathing, I started the cooldown with only the memory of how fun it all was. I left the race feeling very excited to race again, immediately identifying areas that felt good, what felt bad, and what to work on in the next training session. All-in-all, I think I can say I thoroughly enjoyed my first race with Okeanos, leaving a more optimistic and race-ready rower than I entered. I am very excited to see what else the year has to offer, and I am excited to utilize a revitalized sense of fun and cunning in racing.