Monday, March 24, 2003

In Which Our Heroine Has the First Cardiac Arrest of the Season
One of the lovely things about being a novice rowing coach is that you can plan your cardiac arrests. The first on-water outing of their rowing lives is bound to shorten the life of the coach by a good five years. The challenge is to not get the kiddiewinkles (I have begun to think of them as "the novitiate") to enjoy rowing, not flip, not run aground, not drown, not get impaled, not break a rib from catching a crab, not hit a bridge, not hit another boat, not break an oar, somehow travel some distance, and then turn them around, get them back through the bridge, get them turned around again (because there are only certain places where it is safe to turn), and then land them without breaking the front of the boat off. In the meantime, as a coach, you have to keep it upbeat, and also manage to not ram the coaching launch into their boat or oars, and while you're at it, try not to swamp their boat (or others on the river) with wake. This is the real reasons why boat clubs require their coaches to maintain up to date certification in CPR - to save other coaches. Our hearts take a severe pounding. I was luckily spared a few of my scheduled cardiac arrests by having an experienced coxswain to steer the boat and give my kids commands. THis seemed to work well for everyone - the coxswain said she received good experience from it.

How great are my kids? I'll tell you. They run without complaining. They do their situps and jumpies every day, again without complaining (although one maintains steadfastly that they are going to die, but has not let this stop him from doing them in any way), and the one who overslept on Saturday and missed our launch actually hung around the outside of the boathouse waiting for us to come back, went off on his run as directed without complaint, and then stayed and did his situps and jumpies with the team despite the fact he didn't get to row all day. Amazing. I *adore* these children, I really do.

Sadly, in the midst of all this, Elenarda has gone home. Sadness. It was good to have her here, and the baby was absolutely adorable! I just didn't get to spend enough time with her! It has been four and a bit years, and ten days with my working hard meant that I wasn't around nearly enough! Still, it was great to catch up with her, and she seems to have had a good time, despite my being run flat. Although I was comfy on the settee, it will be good to sit in my own bed tonight. It is strange to be in the flat on my own, though. I keep wondering if the baby is all right!

I think I am about due for a cardiac for another reason - I caught sight of my stomach in spandex this week and I did *not* like what I saw! Time to do some situps and jumpies of my own. ALthough I have started biking again, but it is just to practice and back. Only 7 miles-ish a day. I need to be rowing again. Hopefully the four oared rule disappears this week, and the minute it does, I'm out there. Everyone's violating it anway, but I'm not risking it. How can I expect the kids to follow my rules, when I don't follow the club rules? Not to mention that since there's no more company, I can eat spa food. Salad festivals. Whoohoo! Gotta lose that gut. Spandex season is nigh.

The news of the war is on 24/7. The thing that is really getting me is the implication in this country that because I am against the war, I do not support our troops. I support our troops greatly - my nephew is out there on an aircraft carrier. But I don't believe they should be risking their lives on this when diplomacy hasn't had the chance to pan itself out. Inspections were working - why this? And if I was British, I would be ticked! The US seems to be killing the Brits, not the Iraqis! We're the ones shooting their planes, etc. Not good.

Somehow, I feel so cultured. I have actually seen an Academy Award nominated foreign film. The Finnish one. In Finland! Huzzah! So multiculti.
Love and situps,
Anne


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