What a mixed weekend it's been! First and foremost, it has been a disappointment, it has been confusing, but then it has also had some positives....one being that the course at Munich is lovely! I really loved the water - crystal clear and home to enormous, fat carp just milling about around the pontoons. It feels lively, more bouyant than the water on the Henley stretch has been feeling recently, especially as with very little stream the water at home can sometimes feel extremely "dead". Coupled with the fact that it has been so windy and variable in the UK, it was a pleasure to get out on this fabulous course (although apparently it can produce interesting results in certain winds, as the final 250m is sheltered on one side by the huge spectator stand which shelters lanes 4, 5, 6 considerably).
As for the racing, well, I can safely say that I was well below par, with an underperformance my little Chevrolet Spark hire car would have been proud of! We started with the time trials on Friday morning, in the cold and wet, and the various boat classes were allocated their start procedure - standing or flying starts. The light women's singles were standing starts, which meant we had to split into odd and even boats according to our "lane" draws and wait on either side of the two lanes that were being used for time trialling. You then had to wait until the person in your lane had started and cleared the start area, and the while you attach, the other lane is set off. We had one false start from the Swedish girl, who then had to wait until the whole of her heat had gone before she could reattach and race. It looked as though she got herself a bit wound up and just went before the light turned green. Understandable in some ways, as things can be a little tense up there!
My turn came to get on, and I did so with little fuss. Off I went, at a natty but connected 44 and quickly settled onto my race pace as agreed with JPM, who advised me to come down a little earlier than I would do in a side by side situation and keep the foot on the gas with rhythm and rate. At about 250m I clipped a buoy, but nothing drastic enough to cause a problem (unlike the Dorney World Cup in 2005 where I caught a monster crab, rigger under the water AND I was in the darned lead).
We've been training to tolerate lactate build-up and much of the work that we have been doing has produced some very positive results, so I was hoping to be able to lay a marker down in Munich, and build on what we have achieved. The previous week's step test proved that my power output is up, yet my lactate tolerance has improved significantly and I was extremely pleased with this, knowing as well that I was putting in some great final sprints, something I have traditionally struggled with.
I was sculling well, neatly and sharply, but as I reached about 900m, knowing that at the 1k it was time to redline it a bit more and step on, perceptually everything started to slow down. Stroke rate was still tappy at 34-35 as planned, yet every stroke felt weaker and weaker. I tried my push and it felt like my body was being doused in lactic. Everything was screaming and, where in training I have been able to pump and drive through the physiological response to hard work, it was like I was putting the foot on the accelerator, but there was a leak somewhere and I went slower and slower. I crossed the line barely able to move and landed the boat, hoping that I had at least qualified for the semis.
JPM felt that I had sculled well, and I didn't feel that I had bombed out and made mistakes. When the times came out I was about 15 seconds off where I would have thought and where I would have expected to be, bearing in mind I'm not a great time trialler, but given what training indicated. I couldn't understand it. I was confused and demoralised, wondering what I had done wrong. I hadn't overdrawn the finish and made it hard work for myself. I hadn't overcooked it and "blown". WTF? We went back to the hotel for me to rest, and I was still shivering from the cold. I showered and got under the duvet, but couldn't get warm enough. Richard says that I fell asleep for a while and that I was radiating heat and very damp with sweat.
Time came to race the rep in the pouring rain, and I went into it knowing that all being equal, I had a good chance of qualifying for the semis. Off I went and for the first 800-900m I was in contention for one of the three spots. I stuck to the plan, did everything that I have trained to do. With 500m to go I knew that I would have to pull the sprint out to get through. Go, body, go. Nothing. Go. Go. Go. Nothing. Still 34spm. Close eyes. Go. Beep. Over the line. Fourth. FFS.
I usually come straight in and walk for 30 minutes, but I just couldn't face seeing anyone. I was so confused still, so upset. Why was this happening? I landed after a shortish paddle and we put the boat away. At the hotel I made sure I ate well (weight not an issue) and I found out my race time on Saturday morning. I'd chatted to Jules, who was sending inspirational messages and good luck vibes from England. We tried to make sure that I wasn't wallowing, although I was still feeling very cold, and met up with JPM and Jill for a little drink in the Wirtshaus across the road. We bumped into Gevvie Stone, the US single sculler, who was just charming, and really pleased to have done well in her heat.
That night, I fell asleep as soon as the lights went out and woke up feeling dreadful. The weather had improved overnight, but I had again slept drenched in sweat. Everything ached, and not in a post-race, training sense!! When I saw JPM and he asked how I was, I just said I was OK and that I'd see him after weigh-in. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. In the car, I turned to Richard and said "Sweetheart, I don't feel well. I don't know what to do". He went to JPM and we talked about what was going on. It wouldn't normally occur to me to withdraw, having raced and gone all that way AND JPM and Jill having come to Germany as well. I just knew that there was nothing in me. Things have been difficult recently, but I have trained well and been strong. I wasn't even angry or upset that this was happening. It was just like all my spark and fizz had been put out. However I weighed in and when JPM arrived we made the call to see the FISA doctor, which we duly did. They looked me over and said that it was most likely a viral issue, lymph nodes were up and throat red. I was still struggling to regulate my body temperature, hot and sweaty yet cold and shivery at the same time. "Es macht keinen Sinn", said the doc. Letter written and DNS registered on the start.
With that we had some breakfast and decided t go back to the hotel for me to rest some more, but it didn't feel right ot sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. We had a car, and although the weather wasn't brilliant, at least it wasn't raining any more. Salzburg, where I lived for a year and fell in love with all things Austrian, is only just over an hour away, so we decided to tootle over and get away from things mentally. We kept it all very low key and unhurried, lots of little stops for coffee and not much moving around, but it was great to be back - I couldn't believe it had been more than ten years since I last went there! After a pleasant afternoon of being with each other and just enjoying being alive, Richard and I went back to Munich to meet JPM and Jill to take them out for dinner. We passed a very convivial evening together, and went home for an early night as we had to get the boat loaded on the GB trailer first thing in the morning.
So, here I am. I'm headachey and pissed off. This morning is the first time I've got angry about this, which is a sign I'm on the mend. These things do happen, and I've had my fair share of bad luck. It's time to suck it up, move on, move up and bang it out. Patience is a virtue that I'm having to learn, and this time it's going to have to be applied well if I am to get ready for the next events.
I'm in bed still, with the cat stretched out beside me. I'm going to have to move him though, because he keeps doing the most incredibly stinky farts. Thanks, ratbag. Gets me back for leaving him for a few days I guess!
