Latest news on the formation of the main boat crew...
Several distinguished oarsmen who were absent last term due to their academic work loads have expressed desires to return for this Torpids season. These guys are all very experienced and quite athletic, as well as having the advantage of previous rowing experience together in Hertford's past. That means that the available seats in the first boat is steadily decreasing.
The coaches have thus raised the bar for any oarsmen wanting one of the few remaining seats in the main boat. However they have still made me an offer. If I can continue the physical progress I've made in the last few weeks then I will be offered a spot. This means knocking at least another 10 seconds off my 2k time while maintaining a consistent split. Although this task seems daunting, I am incredibly excited for the opportunity.
Proving oneself is an essential aspect of the human experience. Whether it be intellectually (which I am used to) or physically (the new game). Moreover, I relish the chance to show off the illimitable scope of my will to succeed despite any obstacle.
I am also happy with the way this Torpids boat is coming together. Being the 'weakest' link on a team of monstrously powerful competitors is where I prefer to be. I learn from them, emulate them, and use the displays of their respective talent to inspire and drive me to their level. I can't wait to earn a spot among such oarsmen. Due to my height and leg length I will most likely be placed somewhere in the middle of the boat, in the engine, so to speak. After years of being bullied in grade school for being one of the tiny kids, I like embracing the newer, bigger me. The attention from the ladies is pretty good inspiration to continue too :p
Further updates as the term progresses...
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
The 2k Test
ERG results!
Eleven of us from Hertford were in attendance and we did it in two groups so that we could all benefit from having some coaching and cheering behind us as we tormented ourselves.
I didn't quite get my time down into the 6:50 area like I wanted. My problem was consistency.
For the first 500m I was good, setting a split at 1:43.
Second 500m I slowed down a bit, which was ok, 1:45 split.
But in the third 500 I cracked and my time rose up to about 1:47
I kept that 1:47 split through the last 500m also.
Total time: 7:04.7
At first I was upset that I wasn't able to break into the sixes like I had planned and wanted. However, in appreciation of the broader picture I must say this time is pretty damn good for a former lazy computer nerd. Its a new personal best - a full ten seconds under my previous record which was set a mere three weeks ago. I'm proud of that improvement. That time was also the third best of all of us there that night. I was beaten by the men's captain and a former lightweight Oxford v Cambridge, "Blues" oarsman. It's hard to stay mad at yourself when that's the company you keep. I was only 14 seconds off their times and I have two months to catch them. No problem.
I find out if I made the first boat sometime next week when the coaches/captain finish their decisions.
Eleven of us from Hertford were in attendance and we did it in two groups so that we could all benefit from having some coaching and cheering behind us as we tormented ourselves.
I didn't quite get my time down into the 6:50 area like I wanted. My problem was consistency.
For the first 500m I was good, setting a split at 1:43.
Second 500m I slowed down a bit, which was ok, 1:45 split.
But in the third 500 I cracked and my time rose up to about 1:47
I kept that 1:47 split through the last 500m also.
Total time: 7:04.7
At first I was upset that I wasn't able to break into the sixes like I had planned and wanted. However, in appreciation of the broader picture I must say this time is pretty damn good for a former lazy computer nerd. Its a new personal best - a full ten seconds under my previous record which was set a mere three weeks ago. I'm proud of that improvement. That time was also the third best of all of us there that night. I was beaten by the men's captain and a former lightweight Oxford v Cambridge, "Blues" oarsman. It's hard to stay mad at yourself when that's the company you keep. I was only 14 seconds off their times and I have two months to catch them. No problem.
I find out if I made the first boat sometime next week when the coaches/captain finish their decisions.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A New Term Begins
Although this is still nought week, or zero week, which is the week before Oxford term begins, our Shimer capstone course, IS 6 has begun. We've already finished reading the Canterbury Tales and moved on to Luther's essays on the Reformation. The Tales were interesting from a historical perspective as well as being beautifully written. I don't think they belonged in the curriculum though, they don't speak to anything about the human condition and experience that we haven't already gotten from other sources. Yes, the Tales highlight social and cultural issues that are still relevant, but so does the Bible, and Dante's Inferno, and Christine de Pizan's Treasure of the City of Ladies, and a host of others. Anyway, the Luther is incredibly interesting, especially given Aunt Ruth's genealogy research which places branches of our family tree in Wittenburg, the place of Luther's ascendancy.
I've also started reading Hume's Enquiry Considering Human Understanding - the work that was so extravagantly misunderstood that Hume was deemed a heretic for unseating the foundations of all morality and for removing God as the prime cause of everything (as if a scholarly paper could possibly accomplish that unless the readers allowed it to!) Anyway, its one of the hardest bits of philosophy I've ever encountered but the fruits of its proper understanding are nothing short of amazing. Hume answers the questions that I threw at teachers in grade school about the sources of all knowledge, only to be told I was being disruptive and that they didn't matter. Um, pardon me teach', but they matter, big time. Hume is quickly becoming a favorite.
We had an intensive rowing training camp all last week and some of this week. Two outings on the water a day plus core stability circuits and rowing machine pieces. My body was immolated in the intensity of the work. I have never known such complete exhaustion. I very nearly quit because I could do nothing else but eat, physically exert myself during training, and then go home to sleep. It just didn't feel like a life to me. And the work wasn't getting any easier while my energy continued to plummet. After about five days though my body recovered and rebuilt itself seemingly overnight. I was suddenly able to do all the core exercises without much trouble, the ERG work got easier, my times were faster, the boat felt easy and light - it was all gravy. The confidence gained from that experience has fortified me yet further.
I endure this pain and torment and eventual renewal for two reasons. First, I found something invaluable in the realm of agony that rowing brings. Pain is a healing, purifying alembic. It transmutes. It is not easy to describe. I wonder whether a life can be said to be complete that has not pushed itself this far and discovered its own wellspring of vitae. The lesson gets deeper and more personal with every new session, and I won't give that up. Secondly, and this was the reason that arose first chronologically, I want a seat in the Mens 1 boat for the upcoming Torpids competition. Yes, Hertford will be fielding several mens boats, and yes I will certainly be able to race in one of them. It isn't even expected that the first boat will be very successful given how high we are in the standings already - that boat will struggle to do more than stave off attackers and maintain its good position. Yet I want in that boat. Those are the coveted spots, where the eight finest athletes and oarsmen get to sit and pour their hearts into going fast together, for the college, for the old boys who still come down to watch and cheer, for the pure exultation of success at such a high level of competition.
It gets decided tomorrow at the 2k test. At the beginning of break I did one and got a new personal best at 7mins 14seconds, six seconds under my previous best time. That time is nowhere near competitive enough to get me in the boat. I need to get under 7 minutes to have a chance at the main boat. I need to maintain a 500m split time in the 1:42 area for 2000 meters. That will get me there in about 6:50, which should be enough.
Whereas I used to be a nervous wreck around these tests, I have found the impossible zen that comes from knowing that I can deal with pain and keep rowing. We did 6x500s and 3x1000s all this week and my times were excellent, right on target. The true exhaustion didn't start to settle in until the final sets, which are beyond the 2000 meters necessary for the test tomorrow. Moreover, I have some techniques to keep my mind off the distance and the pain and to just keep moving. If I can get myself through the first 1500 meters in good time, my tricks can get me the rest of the way - blind, bleeding, exploding, dying, screaming my triumph with every stroke.
One of those seats will be MINE.
I've also started reading Hume's Enquiry Considering Human Understanding - the work that was so extravagantly misunderstood that Hume was deemed a heretic for unseating the foundations of all morality and for removing God as the prime cause of everything (as if a scholarly paper could possibly accomplish that unless the readers allowed it to!) Anyway, its one of the hardest bits of philosophy I've ever encountered but the fruits of its proper understanding are nothing short of amazing. Hume answers the questions that I threw at teachers in grade school about the sources of all knowledge, only to be told I was being disruptive and that they didn't matter. Um, pardon me teach', but they matter, big time. Hume is quickly becoming a favorite.
***
We had an intensive rowing training camp all last week and some of this week. Two outings on the water a day plus core stability circuits and rowing machine pieces. My body was immolated in the intensity of the work. I have never known such complete exhaustion. I very nearly quit because I could do nothing else but eat, physically exert myself during training, and then go home to sleep. It just didn't feel like a life to me. And the work wasn't getting any easier while my energy continued to plummet. After about five days though my body recovered and rebuilt itself seemingly overnight. I was suddenly able to do all the core exercises without much trouble, the ERG work got easier, my times were faster, the boat felt easy and light - it was all gravy. The confidence gained from that experience has fortified me yet further.
I endure this pain and torment and eventual renewal for two reasons. First, I found something invaluable in the realm of agony that rowing brings. Pain is a healing, purifying alembic. It transmutes. It is not easy to describe. I wonder whether a life can be said to be complete that has not pushed itself this far and discovered its own wellspring of vitae. The lesson gets deeper and more personal with every new session, and I won't give that up. Secondly, and this was the reason that arose first chronologically, I want a seat in the Mens 1 boat for the upcoming Torpids competition. Yes, Hertford will be fielding several mens boats, and yes I will certainly be able to race in one of them. It isn't even expected that the first boat will be very successful given how high we are in the standings already - that boat will struggle to do more than stave off attackers and maintain its good position. Yet I want in that boat. Those are the coveted spots, where the eight finest athletes and oarsmen get to sit and pour their hearts into going fast together, for the college, for the old boys who still come down to watch and cheer, for the pure exultation of success at such a high level of competition.
It gets decided tomorrow at the 2k test. At the beginning of break I did one and got a new personal best at 7mins 14seconds, six seconds under my previous best time. That time is nowhere near competitive enough to get me in the boat. I need to get under 7 minutes to have a chance at the main boat. I need to maintain a 500m split time in the 1:42 area for 2000 meters. That will get me there in about 6:50, which should be enough.
Whereas I used to be a nervous wreck around these tests, I have found the impossible zen that comes from knowing that I can deal with pain and keep rowing. We did 6x500s and 3x1000s all this week and my times were excellent, right on target. The true exhaustion didn't start to settle in until the final sets, which are beyond the 2000 meters necessary for the test tomorrow. Moreover, I have some techniques to keep my mind off the distance and the pain and to just keep moving. If I can get myself through the first 1500 meters in good time, my tricks can get me the rest of the way - blind, bleeding, exploding, dying, screaming my triumph with every stroke.
One of those seats will be MINE.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Semester Draws to a Close
As I enter the final week of work for this term I find myself breathing an immense sigh of relief. Though these have been the most challenging months of my life, I do not look back over them with even the slightest regret. The relief comes from the absence of personal doubt. I have survived, and moreover I will have succeeded. For a person who continually lives in his own head, doubting every movement and decision, this has been a semester of revelation.
I am eager to spend a few days relaxing, but to thereafter get right back to work. I have a great deal of reading and writing to do for my thesis. I hope to complete a large part of the first draft over this break. I will also be training for rowing even harder than I did during term. One of our coaches has volunteered his time over break to train the few of us that are remaining in town and I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to train with an elite level sculler for three weeks. At the end of break, just before next term, the team will be coming together and traveling to the famous Dorney Lake, Eton College Rowing Center for an intense training school. Its time to push my 2k into the 6:30 - 6:40 area and get serious about this quest for rowing greatness. Next term is Torpids, the epic Oxford bumps racing tournament, and I intend to be in the main boat and get some blades for Hertford.
Next semester I am only taking one tutorial in addition to my thesis writing and Integrated Studies 6 capstone course. I have already set up the course and its with a Hertford philosophy doctoral student named Hsueh Qu. We will be studying Hume and some more contemporary philosophers on causation as well as topics in metaphysics and induction. I am very excited to work with Qu, he is an energetic and brilliant person. As for my thesis, the topic continues to narrow. I am now examining the work of three astronomers in particular: Copernicus, Herschel and Hubble. More on that as it unfolds over break.
And lastly, the Integrated Studies 6 reading list. I am not kidding when I say that this reading list is one of the main attractions that solidified my commitment to the Shimer curriculum. Each professor is given a bit of free reign to include a few extra texts outside the core requirements and I am quite pleased with the choices made by professor Patterson. Without further ado...the sickness that is IS 6:
I am eager to spend a few days relaxing, but to thereafter get right back to work. I have a great deal of reading and writing to do for my thesis. I hope to complete a large part of the first draft over this break. I will also be training for rowing even harder than I did during term. One of our coaches has volunteered his time over break to train the few of us that are remaining in town and I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to train with an elite level sculler for three weeks. At the end of break, just before next term, the team will be coming together and traveling to the famous Dorney Lake, Eton College Rowing Center for an intense training school. Its time to push my 2k into the 6:30 - 6:40 area and get serious about this quest for rowing greatness. Next term is Torpids, the epic Oxford bumps racing tournament, and I intend to be in the main boat and get some blades for Hertford.
Next semester I am only taking one tutorial in addition to my thesis writing and Integrated Studies 6 capstone course. I have already set up the course and its with a Hertford philosophy doctoral student named Hsueh Qu. We will be studying Hume and some more contemporary philosophers on causation as well as topics in metaphysics and induction. I am very excited to work with Qu, he is an energetic and brilliant person. As for my thesis, the topic continues to narrow. I am now examining the work of three astronomers in particular: Copernicus, Herschel and Hubble. More on that as it unfolds over break.
And lastly, the Integrated Studies 6 reading list. I am not kidding when I say that this reading list is one of the main attractions that solidified my commitment to the Shimer curriculum. Each professor is given a bit of free reign to include a few extra texts outside the core requirements and I am quite pleased with the choices made by professor Patterson. Without further ado...the sickness that is IS 6:
Texts (in Calendar Order)
Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales
Erasmus, In Praise of Folly
More, Utopia
Shakespeare, The Tempest
Bacon, The New Organon
Milton, Paradise Lost
Hume, Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion
Kant, Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals
Voltaire, Candide
Goethe, Faust, Parts 1 and 2
Beethoven, 9th Symphony
Rousseau, Discourse on Inequality
Joyce, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Barnes, Nightwood
Spiegelman, Maus I and II
Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
Welles, Citizen Kane
Reprints (in Calendar Order)
Luther, “On the Freedom of a Christian"
Rabelais, Gargantua
Montaigne, “On the Cannibals,” “On the Custom of Wearing Clothing,” “On Habit,” and “On the Inconstancy of our Actions”
Kuhn, The Copernican Revolution
Galileo, The Starry Messenger
Kepler, Epitome of Copernican Astronomy
Bacon, The New Atlantis
Swift, Gulliver’s Travels
Kant, Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysics
Hegel, Reason in History
Nietzsche, The Use and Abuse of History
Marx, “Preface” to A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy
Weber, “Politics as a Vocation
Heidegger, “The Age of the World Picture”
Arendt, “Concept of History”
Borges, “The Aleph” and “The Library of Babel”
Incredible.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Races!
Competition, my sweet mistress, it had been too long!
Or in other words...
All that training was for something besides self respect?!
So the last two weekends were filled with out of town racing. The first one was in London on the Thames - the Fullers Head of the River Fours event. Bad news though, our stroke seat was deathly ill and though we went down and rigged up the boat hoping his condition would improve enough to race he showed up that morning looking absolutely ghoulish, so we scratched. Nevertheless, we had a good time in London.
Or in other words...
All that training was for something besides self respect?!
So the last two weekends were filled with out of town racing. The first one was in London on the Thames - the Fullers Head of the River Fours event. Bad news though, our stroke seat was deathly ill and though we went down and rigged up the boat hoping his condition would improve enough to race he showed up that morning looking absolutely ghoulish, so we scratched. Nevertheless, we had a good time in London.
Geoff - our 2 seat, bow side, Hertford social secretary, Crew Date Logistical Mastermind
(Yes, the boat is bow rigged. That's how we rowll.)
Peter Morten - Mens Capn', 3 seat, stroke sider, registered badass
***
This weekend we took a much longer road trip to the east side of jolly old for the Winter Head in Cambridge. The town was much more subdued than Oxford - had a real stuffy feel to it. Plus the fog was so dense it got scary out there. Hertford sent four crews to compete so it was quite a party: men's M1 senior 4s, men's novice A 8s, women's W1 senior 4s, and women's novice A 8s - almost 30 of us.
The Cam river is narrow just like the Isis in Oxford - too narrow for a line up so the events were all time trials. The course was 2500 meters long and had two right angle turns in it. Since our cox is a madman this was a good thing. He out steered the Cambridge coxes on their own waterway. The first race was an all student class with over twenty teams competing. It was my first boat race ever so I was nervous. We started at a punishing stroke count of 37 and then settled after about 1500 meters of that agony. I was focused entirely on keeping up with the other guys which was some bad tunnel vision. Though we didn't feel like we had done well because it wasn't a smooth run we actually made decent time coming in at about 10:31 and that earned us 6th place.
In the afternoon we had an official Great Britain Rowing points category race with about ten or fifteen teams. Having cured myself of the total novice jitters I was much more relaxed for this one. It didn't feel like I was pushing to stay in time with the other guys, the boat just flowed together. We kept it between 31 and 33 strokes per minute for the whole race and that went much better for us. The boat stayed sat and just ran fast and hard. The boys were in good rhythm and looking mean I must say.
Pure exultation after the second race.
We had started about 400 meters behind the four taking off ahead of us and overtook them at the finish line so that was outstanding fun. When you commit fully from the first stroke there isn't much left in the tank come time for that final push. James, our stroke man, was roaring like a lion in the last 1000 meters and his energy was infectious. Our cox was like a braying demon and it definitely spurred us on having so much intensity coming across that loud speaker at our feet. Some highlights: "We've got two seats on them, I want another one in three strokes! Press them out! Long sends! Blood in the water!" and "That's it boys, they've broken! Twist the knife!"
We didn't end up winning that race but did finish 4th overall with a time around 9:33. The top four were all within about 5 seconds of each other so it was a close battle. Despite the loss we were all jubilant afterward. There was the definite sense that we had raced well and as a first day of competition with this four man setup it was a great feeling to know we could row like a real crew.
We all breathed fire for ten minutes straight and rowed until our legs were filled with molten lead, then we did it again, only better. We lived in a realm of absolute pain that first race, but we didn't buckle. Then we found something incredible during the second go and it felt almost effortless for those first 1500 meters. We chased perfection and seemed to touch her for the barest of moments. Thunder roars in your veins when you reach that place...its a dimension of sublime agony.
The Crew after racing (from right to left: Geoff, Pete, Jon (cox), James, me)
The ladies senior fours won their division so congratulations to them for sure, they rowed hard and brought home some engraved hip flasks. We are all looking forward to seeing them take some blades in the Torpids/Bumps event. The mens novice 8 boat also did real well in their category - should be a great team for the Christ Church Novice Regatta this coming week.
Next semester there are a ton more races. There will be two more fours heads at least, one in Bristol and one in a location to be determined. Plus the big all Oxford Torpids is eights bump racing on the Isis. Apparently its carnage on the river everyday for a week. Sounds like my kind of party. Everyone has to try out for that boat so I'm stoked to train hard over the break and come back with a business face on.
That's all for tonight. Heading to bed for a bit of well earned slumber.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Updates
Went and checked out the Ashmolean Museum here in town. Great thing about the museums here, they are all free. Their special exhibit was some pre-Raphaelite work, which was spectacular. It was mostly John Ruskin and his pupils and adherents, rather than any Italian painters. The landscapes were particularly amazing.
Been hanging out at the Union Society building a lot lately. Its got some great rooms to get serious work done. Below is the Gladstone Room, which has become my favorite place to read in all of Oxford.
Its usually empty too - an amazing space to spread out and ponder big ideas.
But when I'm not reading I'm usually to be found at the Hertford College Boat House on the river Isis that runs through town. Training has been kicked up a notch in the last week - we are going out twice a day quite often and even when we aren't the coaches encourage us to hit the ERG machines for extended sessions. In two weeks time the M1 fours team that I have the privilege of rowing for will be headed down to London to race in the Head of the River competition. All of our training has been geared towards preparing for that race so we can have a good showing.
Every day we go out the boat is looking better. The whole thing is starting to come together in a big way. Tonight as we were heading back in after sundown we had a real nice string of strokes where we were all in unison and the boat stayed rigid through the whole set. From solid catches to powerful sends, we drove those knees down and pushed our chests out at backstops - all together and in beautiful unity. I was concerned it wouldn't be coming together in time but after tonight I know we can do it.
Though more is demanded of me than I have ever known, I get to wake up and look at scenes like this...
...with four other guys all equally feeling the need to drive for perfection. It's pure magic when we get into the rhythm and all move as one. I wouldn't trade my time on the water for any depth of slumber no matter how sweet that bed may seem. It can't possibly hold a candle to what we get into out there every morning.
I like the challenge of working this hard to two arenas. Stress from the school work arises periodically but getting an oar in my hands banishes it like a shot of espresso to the dome. I can see why students here are encouraged to engage in a sport while studying, it would weigh too heavily to be so wrapped up in the purely mental theater of exertion. Balance serves me well.
Been hanging out at the Union Society building a lot lately. Its got some great rooms to get serious work done. Below is the Gladstone Room, which has become my favorite place to read in all of Oxford.
Its usually empty too - an amazing space to spread out and ponder big ideas.
But when I'm not reading I'm usually to be found at the Hertford College Boat House on the river Isis that runs through town. Training has been kicked up a notch in the last week - we are going out twice a day quite often and even when we aren't the coaches encourage us to hit the ERG machines for extended sessions. In two weeks time the M1 fours team that I have the privilege of rowing for will be headed down to London to race in the Head of the River competition. All of our training has been geared towards preparing for that race so we can have a good showing.
Every day we go out the boat is looking better. The whole thing is starting to come together in a big way. Tonight as we were heading back in after sundown we had a real nice string of strokes where we were all in unison and the boat stayed rigid through the whole set. From solid catches to powerful sends, we drove those knees down and pushed our chests out at backstops - all together and in beautiful unity. I was concerned it wouldn't be coming together in time but after tonight I know we can do it.
Though more is demanded of me than I have ever known, I get to wake up and look at scenes like this...
...with four other guys all equally feeling the need to drive for perfection. It's pure magic when we get into the rhythm and all move as one. I wouldn't trade my time on the water for any depth of slumber no matter how sweet that bed may seem. It can't possibly hold a candle to what we get into out there every morning.
I like the challenge of working this hard to two arenas. Stress from the school work arises periodically but getting an oar in my hands banishes it like a shot of espresso to the dome. I can see why students here are encouraged to engage in a sport while studying, it would weigh too heavily to be so wrapped up in the purely mental theater of exertion. Balance serves me well.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Righteous News
Apologies for the delayed update here but these past few days have been busy. This was the official first week of Michaelmas Term so I now know just how crazy intense the school year gets at Oxford. Classes are still going really well. Logic is progressing at a good speed and I can feel the various axioms settling into my mind. Starting to write little notations like "SP" (suppressed premise) in the margins of other texts I read so retention and understanding is no problem there. Got to do some observation through small telescopes up at Hanwell and that was wild. Looked at a bunch of binary star systems and then at Jupiter. All four of the Galilean moons were clearly visible along the equatorial axis. Makes for some amazing viewing having all those locked into a belt extending out from the Jovian monster. I'm keeping an observational journal complete with sketches and that's a fun exercise.
But the big stuff this week was definitely from the rowing corner of my world. Last Saturday I went down to the Hertford College boat house for a taster session with all the other freshers (although I don't exactly fit the freshman bill, this is my first year in Oxford so that's close enough) Right off the bat I met an old Hertford oarsman who actually rowed in the blue boat in last years Xchanging Boat Race. Though Cambridge won the race it was still a huge achievement on his part to have made it to that level. The Boat Race (no further qualification necessary, as though there are no other boat races in the world) is essentially the grudge match between Cambridge and Oxford that takes place once a year and is watched by pretty much everyone in England. I was shown around the boathouse and then briefed on Hertford's progress through the rankings at Oxford rowing in recent years. It was a very warm welcome.
Having had a grip of experience over the last year rowing with Ron, Brian and some New Trier kids I was the clear standout among the group of about 25. After some time on the rowing machine we went out in an eight man boat which was a real treat, having never been in one before then. After that we settled down for some burgers and beers. I was offered a spot on the primary novice boat which was wonderful, I was very happy with that.
The next day the captain of men's rowing added me to the email list for the senior squad (not senior as in citizen, as in rowing badass) and asked me to come train with them for the week to see if I had what it took to jump up into their bracket. "Okaay" I said to myself, this was about to get a whole lot more real. So Friday morning at 0630 I was in another eight, this time with the Sr. Mens team and a visiting post-grad who also had rowed in the Blue Boat last year - different guy than the one I met last Saturday. Clearly these guys produce world class oarsmen if they sent two guys to that event in one year. The outing went well, I was rusty from not having seriously held an oar in about two months but it came back quickly.
I went back for some ERG training that night at 1730 and one of their two coaches was there to teach me how a proper Hertford stroke looks and feels. Did some basic ERG pieces to work out the rhythm and it started to feel real natural. The coach pulled me and one other new guy aside afterwards and said "You are two guys I want in my boat. You've got the athleticism and we can teach you how to row at an international level if you stick with us for the year." I almost hurt myself nodding vigorously.
This morning I was back up and over at the boathouse for some time in a four man boat trying to implement what I had learned on the ERGs the night before. The mens captain was at stroke position and two guys I hadn't met yet were in seats 2 and 3 which put me at bow seat. I was the only new guy in the boat so the pressure was on. It took about an hour to integrate all that was being thrown at me and lay down some good strokes but damn it felt good to connect with the water properly and feel that boat move. I know I wasn't looking good the whole outing but I let myself be a blank slate for the coach and just tried my hardest to implement whatever he wanted me to do. Near the end of the second hour we hit a perfect unison for three strokes and the cox yelled "Whoa! Now that's how you do it boys! I felt that!" followed by the coach on the riverbank saying, "I think we just found a new bow seat oarsman."
I'm still grinning over this, probably won't stop til sometime next month.
All I need is a few little pieces of paper with some signatures on them that say I'm a visiting international student of Hertford College and then I'm officially a member of their Senior Mens squad. The work certainly doesn't end there. I'll be training twice a day, five days a week for rest of my time here but its all in service to the grandest dream I've yet brought to fruition. This feeling lies well beyond even the most superlative adjectives I've ever learned.
So raise a glass with me this weekend - To the Oarsman!
But the big stuff this week was definitely from the rowing corner of my world. Last Saturday I went down to the Hertford College boat house for a taster session with all the other freshers (although I don't exactly fit the freshman bill, this is my first year in Oxford so that's close enough) Right off the bat I met an old Hertford oarsman who actually rowed in the blue boat in last years Xchanging Boat Race. Though Cambridge won the race it was still a huge achievement on his part to have made it to that level. The Boat Race (no further qualification necessary, as though there are no other boat races in the world) is essentially the grudge match between Cambridge and Oxford that takes place once a year and is watched by pretty much everyone in England. I was shown around the boathouse and then briefed on Hertford's progress through the rankings at Oxford rowing in recent years. It was a very warm welcome.
Having had a grip of experience over the last year rowing with Ron, Brian and some New Trier kids I was the clear standout among the group of about 25. After some time on the rowing machine we went out in an eight man boat which was a real treat, having never been in one before then. After that we settled down for some burgers and beers. I was offered a spot on the primary novice boat which was wonderful, I was very happy with that.
The next day the captain of men's rowing added me to the email list for the senior squad (not senior as in citizen, as in rowing badass) and asked me to come train with them for the week to see if I had what it took to jump up into their bracket. "Okaay" I said to myself, this was about to get a whole lot more real. So Friday morning at 0630 I was in another eight, this time with the Sr. Mens team and a visiting post-grad who also had rowed in the Blue Boat last year - different guy than the one I met last Saturday. Clearly these guys produce world class oarsmen if they sent two guys to that event in one year. The outing went well, I was rusty from not having seriously held an oar in about two months but it came back quickly.
I went back for some ERG training that night at 1730 and one of their two coaches was there to teach me how a proper Hertford stroke looks and feels. Did some basic ERG pieces to work out the rhythm and it started to feel real natural. The coach pulled me and one other new guy aside afterwards and said "You are two guys I want in my boat. You've got the athleticism and we can teach you how to row at an international level if you stick with us for the year." I almost hurt myself nodding vigorously.
This morning I was back up and over at the boathouse for some time in a four man boat trying to implement what I had learned on the ERGs the night before. The mens captain was at stroke position and two guys I hadn't met yet were in seats 2 and 3 which put me at bow seat. I was the only new guy in the boat so the pressure was on. It took about an hour to integrate all that was being thrown at me and lay down some good strokes but damn it felt good to connect with the water properly and feel that boat move. I know I wasn't looking good the whole outing but I let myself be a blank slate for the coach and just tried my hardest to implement whatever he wanted me to do. Near the end of the second hour we hit a perfect unison for three strokes and the cox yelled "Whoa! Now that's how you do it boys! I felt that!" followed by the coach on the riverbank saying, "I think we just found a new bow seat oarsman."
I'm still grinning over this, probably won't stop til sometime next month.
All I need is a few little pieces of paper with some signatures on them that say I'm a visiting international student of Hertford College and then I'm officially a member of their Senior Mens squad. The work certainly doesn't end there. I'll be training twice a day, five days a week for rest of my time here but its all in service to the grandest dream I've yet brought to fruition. This feeling lies well beyond even the most superlative adjectives I've ever learned.
So raise a glass with me this weekend - To the Oarsman!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Incredible is Everywhere
This was the view outside my tutorial room yesterday. That's the Christ Church Quadrangle. I was there for a meeting with Leo Huckvale and we had our first real session - an introduction to Astronomy and Cosmology. Leo doesn't work at Christ Church and neither does Christopher Taylor (they are the two professors teaching my "History and Practice of Observational Astronomy" tutorial). But Mr. Taylor's wife, Dr. Rowena Archer, she teaches Medieval History at Christ Church and kindly allowed us the use of her office.
The session went really well. We covered the notable achievements of Hipparchos, Ptolemy, Brahe & Kepler. Apparently Brahe was such a genius the King of Denmark gave him an island and enough funds to build a castle observatory there. The castle still stands on the island of Hven (Ven in Swedish).
We spent the bulk of our time discussing stellar magnitudes, which are of paramount concern. When we gaze at the heavens, some stars appear much brighter than others. The Greek astronomer Hipparchos created the first catalogue of stars and grouped them according to brightness as seen with the unaided eye. This was done sometime between 130 and 160 BC. These stars (the 251 of them that Hipparchos studied) were separated into six groups - the brightest being termed 1st magnitude and the dimmest 6th magnitude. This system is still used today, although our method for measuring brightness has become more exact. Hipparchos' estimations of the differences between magnitudes has been verified as almost right on. He identified a logarithmic relationship between each step up in magnitude. Since a 1st magnitude star is about 100 times brighter than a 6th, the scale is like the Richter Scale which measures earthquake severity. So each step up into a new whole number means exponentially more ground shaking, or in this case, stellar brightness.
But hold on you are saying, just because one star looks brighter than another that doesn't necessarily mean its got a greater magnitude. A star that appears bright to us could be either a faint star that is close to the Sun or a ridiculously luminous one really far away. So this system is really about apparent magnitudes. But with the aid of geometry and calculus we have learned to determine just how far away each star is and thus its actual magnitude. In fact this system of magnitudes, once aided by the right math, was the source of the first understanding of cosmic distances.
I'm really into this stuff. Can't wait to learn the math and stand on the shoulders of giants.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Happy Brithday Momma!
I know you read this like five times a day to feel just a little bit closer to me while I'm thousands of miles away. I may never find a birthday gift equal to that which you have given me by helping me get here. But you are never far from my thoughts or my heart. I love you! This is your day!
xoxo
xoxo
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Spectacular Vindication of Existence
I did something really stupid today. I mean this was astonishingly idiotic. This is not something I am accustomed to experiencing.
I decided to take a ride with a local cycling club that I found on my way to class one morning. I met the owner, Mr. Flavio Zappi while he made me a breakfast sandwich and I liked the stuff adorning his walls. They seemed legit. See for yourself.
http://cyclinginfo.co.uk/blog/cycling/zappis-cafe-cycling-club/
&
http://flaviozappi.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/flyer-front3-20112.jpg
So this morning at 9am I rode over to the cafe and met up with about 25 other riders. Flavio asked me if I would prefer to ride in the "medium speed" group and I declined, opting for the "fast" crew. Mistake number one. The fast group ended up being about ten Category 1 racers. I was determined not to look like an amateur though, so I stuck with them. I kept my head down and just pedaled for dear life. I saved nothing at all for the return trip, thinking I could just hang out in the tiny pelaton and cruise back home once I was too tired to really crank it from the front. Mistake number two, the big one. By the time my legs exploded and I had to drop off the pack I was decimated. I nearly clipped another rider which made me ashamed, but I apologized as they sped on past.
I looked around for the first time and found myself in an amazing place. It was the English countryside of every postcard or movie I had ever seen where such places were depicted. The few houses in sight were all made of ancient stone with thatch roofs and high hedges surrounding the property. The fields were shrouded in mist being slowly burned off by the sun.
I continued riding for a while, thinking the medium group would catch up with me eventually and I could follow them home. They never came. I turned around and followed the route back in reverse as far as I could recall. Eventually I came to an intersection I didn't remember. I waved down a car and a couple in their fifties pulled over. I explained the situation to them and asked which road would take me back to Oxford. I will never forget the looks on their faces when they explained just how far from home I was. I have no idea how far I had gotten with the fast group when I dropped off, nor how much further I went alone waiting for the medium group to overtake me, let alone how far I had backtracked to make it to the strange intersection.
I told myself that I had gotten into this on my own and I would damn well get out of it on my own. So I started following the given directions back towards home. After a few miles muscle cramps and spasms started setting in. I altered my pedal stride and pushed through them. Agony followed shortly thereafter. Then total exhaustion. This cycle repeated itself several times over the next two hours as I wound my way back.
When I made it to Botley Rd. at the outskirts of Oxford and recognized the landmarks I was exultant. Traffic was locked up and people were crowding every street on their way into sunny Oxford-town but I felt like the only person on that road. I punched the sky and screamed my triumph aloud. When I made it to my door I leaned against the frame and wept. Tourists eyed me warily. I tried to explain the ordeal and they nervously said to each other, "I think he's exhausted, he looks like hes in shock."
When I collapsed on the floor of my room my housemates Juan and Katy came down. Apparently I had been screaming in pain and joy though I didn't realize it. Juan raced out to fetch Powerade and hamburgers while Katy fed me bananas. They were very kind and I was immediately thankful to have such wonderful friends. Though I made it back home on the strength of sheer resolve, I am healthy enough to write this blog tonight because of the loving care of those excellent friends.
That unfamiliar place I had arrived at where the couple set me on the right track was at the intersection of Church St. & Fernham Rd. in Shellingford, Faringdon. Plug it into Google Maps and check out the street view. Then zoom out and find Oxford to the northeast.
I am Robert and I am Legend.
I decided to take a ride with a local cycling club that I found on my way to class one morning. I met the owner, Mr. Flavio Zappi while he made me a breakfast sandwich and I liked the stuff adorning his walls. They seemed legit. See for yourself.
http://cyclinginfo.co.uk/blog/cycling/zappis-cafe-cycling-club/
&
http://flaviozappi.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/flyer-front3-20112.jpg
So this morning at 9am I rode over to the cafe and met up with about 25 other riders. Flavio asked me if I would prefer to ride in the "medium speed" group and I declined, opting for the "fast" crew. Mistake number one. The fast group ended up being about ten Category 1 racers. I was determined not to look like an amateur though, so I stuck with them. I kept my head down and just pedaled for dear life. I saved nothing at all for the return trip, thinking I could just hang out in the tiny pelaton and cruise back home once I was too tired to really crank it from the front. Mistake number two, the big one. By the time my legs exploded and I had to drop off the pack I was decimated. I nearly clipped another rider which made me ashamed, but I apologized as they sped on past.
I looked around for the first time and found myself in an amazing place. It was the English countryside of every postcard or movie I had ever seen where such places were depicted. The few houses in sight were all made of ancient stone with thatch roofs and high hedges surrounding the property. The fields were shrouded in mist being slowly burned off by the sun.
I continued riding for a while, thinking the medium group would catch up with me eventually and I could follow them home. They never came. I turned around and followed the route back in reverse as far as I could recall. Eventually I came to an intersection I didn't remember. I waved down a car and a couple in their fifties pulled over. I explained the situation to them and asked which road would take me back to Oxford. I will never forget the looks on their faces when they explained just how far from home I was. I have no idea how far I had gotten with the fast group when I dropped off, nor how much further I went alone waiting for the medium group to overtake me, let alone how far I had backtracked to make it to the strange intersection.
I told myself that I had gotten into this on my own and I would damn well get out of it on my own. So I started following the given directions back towards home. After a few miles muscle cramps and spasms started setting in. I altered my pedal stride and pushed through them. Agony followed shortly thereafter. Then total exhaustion. This cycle repeated itself several times over the next two hours as I wound my way back.
When I made it to Botley Rd. at the outskirts of Oxford and recognized the landmarks I was exultant. Traffic was locked up and people were crowding every street on their way into sunny Oxford-town but I felt like the only person on that road. I punched the sky and screamed my triumph aloud. When I made it to my door I leaned against the frame and wept. Tourists eyed me warily. I tried to explain the ordeal and they nervously said to each other, "I think he's exhausted, he looks like hes in shock."
When I collapsed on the floor of my room my housemates Juan and Katy came down. Apparently I had been screaming in pain and joy though I didn't realize it. Juan raced out to fetch Powerade and hamburgers while Katy fed me bananas. They were very kind and I was immediately thankful to have such wonderful friends. Though I made it back home on the strength of sheer resolve, I am healthy enough to write this blog tonight because of the loving care of those excellent friends.
***
That unfamiliar place I had arrived at where the couple set me on the right track was at the intersection of Church St. & Fernham Rd. in Shellingford, Faringdon. Plug it into Google Maps and check out the street view. Then zoom out and find Oxford to the northeast.
I am Robert and I am Legend.
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