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Blurring the Line

Articles - DyslexiaCox

Written by DyslexiaCox

Today I went and pulled an erg.

Now, why in the world would a coxy be winter training?

There are lots of reasons for this phenomenon, ranging from getting in shape to impress the townies at the beach during spring break, to having a crush on the guy who works at the gym, to getting rid of all evidence of the post-Charles chocolate and pop binge. (Come on, I saw you there, in the secret Coxswain tent at the Charles with the pop machine and doughnuts and showers of potato chips coming out of the ceiling every ten minutes and big comfortable couches on which to sprawl our sated selves! You were the one with the extra large cappuccino in one hand, the slice of everything pizza in the other, and three chocolate chip cookies in your mouth. And oh yes, I did see those ketchup stains on your shirt - we all know you had two sausages and a large fries. Also, did anyone else see the fries bowls at the Charles and think people were eating out of dog dishes? An unfortunate design, that.)

Back to winter training.

There are two reasons I'm hitting the gym in all seriousness this winter, for once actually doing the training myself instead of the standard supervision/inspiration I've provided in the past.

1.So I can eat this winter and still be light enough to compete for good boats in the spring

2.My stroke said I should.

Let me explain number two a bit. My stroke seat from this fall season has been rowing for fifteen years, which really isn't that much longer than I've been alive. As well, and much more impressively, she knows Lesley Thompson (previously the Canadian National team coxswain) and, apparently, Lesley trains. Stroke explained that it's easier to respect a cox who's spent the winter working as hard as the rowers have instead of eating chocolate bars while wandering around the weight room - and yes, I know a cox who used to do that. Point taken. Six seat added that it's also easier to pull for someone who really knows exactly what they're asking for, and they can't know that until they've done their time in the seat.

I thought I'd be known as "the coxie who's training", a bit of a curious abnormality, like a hockey player dancing ballet in the off-season. I wanted to retain my distinct identity as a coxie. Something happened today, though, that really got me thinking about the blurry line between rowers and coxswains.

It started innocently enough. I had finished my little erg and not died nor been seen during the piece by any rowers, which were my two main goals for the day. I was out of the gym and halfway across campus when it happened. I reached up to redo my ponytail and as I did, I noticed a suspicious tingling pain in my hands. I looked at them incredulously. I had a blister - no, two blisters, one at the base of each ring finger. What the hell?

It was raining and I was stopped dead in the middle of a busy path, staring at my hands. Blisters.

Coxies don't get blisters, unless you count the slight hardening of skin on the top of your index finger that occurs if you've been steering hard, wearing mittens, in the rain, for a month. I thought I was immune from blisters. How could this happen? Blisters were not part of my identity! They were not in the job description! There is no chapter in the Coxswain's Manual on blisters!

On the bus ride home I figure out what was really bothering me about the blisters. It wasn't the discomfort when I grabbed onto the bus support poles, or the potential to burst and cover me in sticky blister goo, or how strange they looked on my soft little weak hands. It was the identity thing. I'd blurred the line between coxing and rowing.

This can happen a lot. A prime example is scullers - let me here point out that to coxies sculling is the work of the devil, but let's look past that for a moment. A sculler calling his quad out of the water and into the boathouse is blurring the line between cox and rower. He fulfills both functions, quite possibly, very well. Same with bow seat when scullers are on the water, or, even worse then scullers, rowers in a straight boat. Every time I see scullers or straight boats I remember with fear the Big Coxie Secret - they don't really need us.

This is not to go any farther than here, you understand.

While some rowers may suspect that they don't need us, and take to small boats and such, most of them are firmly brainwashed into being dependent on us. And that's why it's scary when the line is blurred. The rower identity is not so far from the coxie identity as we might sometimes like to think.

So in conclusion, blisters are frightening because they make me realize how delicate the balance is between rowers and coxies and how interchangeable we just might be. Plus, sculling and straight boats are evil - pass the word, and keep a loose grip on the erg, it's better for your hand levels anyway.

And perhaps, to make the winter a little more exciting, we should have a competition - anyone want to compare 2k erg scores as they improve over the winter? (Only coxies, of course, no one here wants to be embarrassed by their 10 minute 2k score.... And no, mine's not quite that bad. Just very close.)

Dyslexiacox