“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so worth doing as simply messing around in boats!” (Ratty, Wind in the Willows).
What a romantic quotation to have in your head when you sign up to rowing camp. Contrast that with Hugh Laurie’s statement, “It’s a miserable sport”, and we have the classic dichotomy of opinion about rowing.
Somehow I inadvertently abandoned hopes of entering a mythical ‘booze boat’ into Summer VIIIs, and (too easily?) got sucked into the endeavours of the more serious members of the Boat Club.
The fun and games would start with four days in Gravelines (near Calais) – famous (generous) for its nuclear power plant and Olympic rowing lake (and nothing else) – then five weeks of laid-back evenings messing about on the Isis, culminating in college glory and blades for all (ambitious when looking back on the Exeter College performance in Torpids). Sign me up!
Having not rowed for a year or even sat on an erg (rowing machine for the less informed), this was going to be interesting. Watching the Boat Race in the hotel, rather than being inspiring and motivating, was simply terrifying.
Two days after our return to Blighty, the inevitable post-exercise amnesia is kicking in; you know, the conclusion that ‘it wasn’t that bad’ and you feel ‘all the better for it’. Now able to sit down again, with enough energy to lift my arms to 45 degrees, I’m keen to make an accurate evaluation of whether rowing camp was A Good Idea – this hindsight being a desperate attempt to perceive the glass as half-full. A simple ‘Pros and Cons’ exercise is of course the best way to do this.
Pro no 1: plans for Bikini Bod 2014 well under way. More core exercises done in four days than in the last four years.
Con: If there was anything to laugh about, this was not the time. Coughing? Not an option. Sitting up in bed? Dream on. There’s a reason they say ‘don’t overdo it on the first day’.
Pro no 2: making new friends, rowing friends!
Con: Not content with Easter exile, why not try self-imposed social ostracism? I forgot to turn my phone on for four days and sleeping was infinitely preferable to time on Facebook. Thus it’s a good thing I made new friends, as I’m in danger of losing all my old ones.
Pro no 3: body clock shifted out of holiday mode. An 8am alarm now feels positively decadent.
Con: Very obvious; breakfast at 5.30am is a cruel and unusual form of punishment. Especially when you then arrive at the lake half an hour before it opens.
Pro no 4: burning off millions of calories allows you to eat whatever you want. Cue consuming your own body weight in crisps and biscuits.
Con: Just plain WRONG. I almost fell off the scales I jumped on so eagerly on my return. Inconsolable, even with the knowledge that muscle is three times heavier than fat.
Pro no 5: escape interminable winter to balmy Mediterranean climate and get a tan.
Con: There is no con; this was just a gross mistake. Closer to Scotland than the Med, northern France at this time of year was no better than being at home. All I managed was a very wind-burnt face.
Pro no 6: no hangovers.
Con: Erging makes you regret every beer you’ve ever consumed. Couldn’t even get drunk on the last night, as it turns out Gravelines is the town where fun goes to die (unless your definition of fun includes rowing). Difficulties in acquiring alcohol past 9pm comparable only to American prohibition.
Of course, for those of you who’ve had an oar (sorry, blade just sounds sinister) in your hand since you were just out of nappies, this comes as nothing new. Anyone who doesn’t row and believes in self-determination will say I only have myself to blame, and thus the violin that’s playing is rather tiny. In my defence, I would refer the reader to the aforementioned peer pressure. It appears, however, that giving more thought to the decision whether to take up rowing again has resulted in a frustratingly-balanced case on both sides. I’m torn between ‘never again’ and the fond memories of last year. All I can say is; training can’t be worse than camp…can it?
