Winter Training Camp 2010: Still nursing headaches from Chewy’s New Year’s Eve “definitely the last time” Party, squad members piled into the gym on January 2nd to see what Head Coach Steve Trapmore had been planning over his turkey dinner. Despite thoroughly enjoying her NYE Jagermeister shots, it was with deep regret that POD found herself staring at an erg screen with 18km to go; session 1 of 3 for the day, day 1 of 10. The camp follows on from last year’s introduction that accelerated crews back into training after the holidays.
For security reasons the exact details of training camp must remain between those of ICBC blood, but it is safe to say that there was a lot of erging, weightlifting and rowing.
With sub-zero temperatures outside, snow and strong head winds made for challenging outings. POD was honoured to take the bowseat in the men’s 8+ acting as a wind-breaker for the 18km session as a snow blizzard developed over the Thames. Even more exhilarating was the hour long feet-out exercise. Cox Henry Fieldman was fed instruction from strokeman Steve Trapmore; re-living the dream. By Chiswick there were murmurs from the middle of the boat about returning frozen feet to the footplate shoes: “NO.” Fieldman’s coxing was inspirational making every crew member feel special; “A tap from Chloe at bow…” (it’s Christina), “Whatever... women’s squad… all the same.” After the outing Jonny Rankin was modest when speaking to Trapmore about the contribution he and Rory Sullivan had made: “Steve I bet you’ve never had such a powerful 5 and 6 man before.” “I have” replied Trapmore, “but not at IC.”
Rankin displayed enormous digestive skills over the week wolfing down multiple Weetabix and “at least two or three” bananas for breakfast (“Gotta get big”). Tins of rice pudding were casually downed between sets and reports claim an entire loaf of bread was savaged by the Scotsman in one sitting in order to finish off a packet of cooked ham. Gym manager James Blackley and cox Jess “Gayface” Johnson were on kitchen duty for lunch everyday. “Who wants more?” “I can keep eating”, replied Rankin.
As tendonitis, hamstring failures and mental weakness seeped into the squad, crew selection became more and more difficult for Trapmore. With a late pull out from knee-injured Chazz Moultrie, Gareth Brown was whisked into the strokeseat of the women’s 4- (Brown/Duffy/Lee/Holloway). Brown was instructed by coach Stuart Whitelaw to “pretend you are a fairy” for the outing. Whitelaw was as informative and entertaining as ever, advising seat 2 Zoe Lee to “Straighten your wrist, your hand looks a bit gay.” After a few strokes Whitelaw had seen enough: “OK guys, easy there. Christina, you look like you're shitting yourself.” As the water quality disintegrated, words were passed between an irate strokeman and an enraged seat 3. By Harrods the crew were exhausted and had covered almost 10 kilometres zig-zagging back and forth across the river. After the outing Holloway was reflective: “I wouldn’t consider myself a natural steers-woman.”
There was further drama back in the gym as an increasingly angry coach Brian Steele witnessed body after body stopping during pieces on the erg for “injury” reasons. The wrath of Steele was unleashed when an unfortunate athlete (who shall remain anonymous) stopped mid-way through a 20 minute piece; “FOR F-CK’S SAKE!!! GET THE F-CK BACK ON AND F-CKING GET ON WITH IT!” The injury cleared up immediately and the piece was completed. That was the last time anybody stopped. It was during the same session that the screen on POD’s erg decided to die; her world-record splits lost forever. Trapmore responded immediately to the yelps and another erg was set up for her to finish.
At the end of camp before the final outing Trapmore made a riling speech to the masses about the progress made, the work still to be done, the upcoming trials for the next few weeks and planned fixtures for the men’s squad. “But what about the girls?” inquired Rachael Davies. “What about the girls?” *guffaws from the crowd* Oh, Gillies; you’re such a kidder! Later a rejected Chewy admitted: “Without a penis I’m invisible.” The women’s squad in fact spent more time training than the men did. Not to mention the mental toughness required to persevere as a sweat and blood-laden Simon Hislop (resembling a stab-victim) slinked out of the clubroom having finished his 16km, and you have over 4km yet to go. Between sessions many of the men’s squad retired to the newly fashioned “Gentleman’s Club Room”, complete with bouncer (aka the drying room). A gentle reminder to all; POD knows the code, and can and will change it at any time.
The final outing was one to forget for the women’s quad (Smith/Duffy/Graham/Symmonds) who were drenched a few minutes into the outing. By Chiswick Bridge all feeling had been lost and the return journey through crashing sub-zero waves was not helped by an oblivious coach Steele who repeatedly easied the crew for exercises. After nearly two hours of freezing conditions they made it back, shaking and chattering; shadows of their former selves. POD was further traumatised by having to endure a cold shower (thanks to the men's squad) and was force-fed glasses of tea by Zoe Lee as Kat Holloway stood blasting her with a hair dryer. “I think I’m warming up now.” Holloway: “Mate, you’re blue.”
After over 250km and thousands of weight repetitions the squad was relieved of duty on Sunday afternoon until Tuesday evening, when the real training starts. That’s crackin’ it!
Christina Duffy
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