August 20, 2006 - Fatigue, Thy Name is Jet Lag
What’s more fun than doing law school assignments on your lap top computer during the middle of the night while cruising 30,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean? In short, just about anything.
The past 30 hours have been quite the exercise in sleep deprivation. None of us, it seems, are good airplane sleepers. Even if I had been, I had enough work to do to keep me occupied throughout our flight from Washington, D.C. to London. When we got here, then, we were all in pretty haggard shape. It was actually pretty funny.
Ryan, our coxswain, seems to have been the hardest hit. He’s only 17 and he’s never traveled abroad before and faced the torture that is resetting one’s biological clock. I think he was almost delirious when we arrived. We all felt a little bad for him, but our compassion was drowned out by our laughter at watching him trying to stay conscious throughout the day.
After dropping our bags off at the hotel, we caught a bus over to the race site. I had the fortunate experience of sitting behind some U.S. women’s team members. I took the opportunity to relate to them the story of my missing trou and to hypothesize about possible scenarios for its disappearance. They were convinced that I was making the whole thing up; I was convinced that they were covering for someone. We’ll be on the look out during their practices for my AWOL spandies, that’s for sure.
We didn’t row today, but we got our shell down off the racks and rigged it up. It’s now got the U.S.A. lettering on it, which is very cool. Our oars are being painted, as well, to match the typical U.S. red, white, and blue.
We’re finding out that the conditions here change frequently and without warning. Yesterday there was a cross head wind, today there was a stiff cross tail. I talked to some Australian rowers and an American coxswain who’ve been around for a little while and they said it’s very difficult to anticipate how the course will look on any given day. Thus, it’s not uncommon for the starters to shift lanes close to race time in order to keep the fastest boats in the best water. Some lanes here, unfortunately, can significantly disadvantage a boat depending on the conditions. I am not really worried about this for the four and the double, but Ron and I agree that it could pose serious problems for the singles, especially given the fixed seat which he said often works like a mini sail.
It wasn’t until the ride home from the course that the time change really hit me. It was about 2:00 PM Eton time, which is 9:00 AM my time back home. It’s not surprising then that I don’t remember much of the shuttle ride back to the hotel. I just recall Jesse grabbing my arm and holding on to me so that I wouldn’t slip off the edge of the seat on one turn and then me bracing myself and pushing against him so that he wouldn’t slide out on the next. It was kind of impromptu human seat belt duty.
The afternoon brought a much appreciated nap, some TV, and a calm dinner. Tomorrow we’ll get our first time out on the water. I’m looking forward to it. My nerves really go crazy on land, but they tend to dissipate once we push off the docks. I just want to get down to the business that we came here to do. I’ve had enough traveling and talking; it’s time to row.
The past 30 hours have been quite the exercise in sleep deprivation. None of us, it seems, are good airplane sleepers. Even if I had been, I had enough work to do to keep me occupied throughout our flight from Washington, D.C. to London. When we got here, then, we were all in pretty haggard shape. It was actually pretty funny.
Ryan, our coxswain, seems to have been the hardest hit. He’s only 17 and he’s never traveled abroad before and faced the torture that is resetting one’s biological clock. I think he was almost delirious when we arrived. We all felt a little bad for him, but our compassion was drowned out by our laughter at watching him trying to stay conscious throughout the day.
After dropping our bags off at the hotel, we caught a bus over to the race site. I had the fortunate experience of sitting behind some U.S. women’s team members. I took the opportunity to relate to them the story of my missing trou and to hypothesize about possible scenarios for its disappearance. They were convinced that I was making the whole thing up; I was convinced that they were covering for someone. We’ll be on the look out during their practices for my AWOL spandies, that’s for sure.
We didn’t row today, but we got our shell down off the racks and rigged it up. It’s now got the U.S.A. lettering on it, which is very cool. Our oars are being painted, as well, to match the typical U.S. red, white, and blue.
We’re finding out that the conditions here change frequently and without warning. Yesterday there was a cross head wind, today there was a stiff cross tail. I talked to some Australian rowers and an American coxswain who’ve been around for a little while and they said it’s very difficult to anticipate how the course will look on any given day. Thus, it’s not uncommon for the starters to shift lanes close to race time in order to keep the fastest boats in the best water. Some lanes here, unfortunately, can significantly disadvantage a boat depending on the conditions. I am not really worried about this for the four and the double, but Ron and I agree that it could pose serious problems for the singles, especially given the fixed seat which he said often works like a mini sail.
It wasn’t until the ride home from the course that the time change really hit me. It was about 2:00 PM Eton time, which is 9:00 AM my time back home. It’s not surprising then that I don’t remember much of the shuttle ride back to the hotel. I just recall Jesse grabbing my arm and holding on to me so that I wouldn’t slip off the edge of the seat on one turn and then me bracing myself and pushing against him so that he wouldn’t slide out on the next. It was kind of impromptu human seat belt duty.
The afternoon brought a much appreciated nap, some TV, and a calm dinner. Tomorrow we’ll get our first time out on the water. I’m looking forward to it. My nerves really go crazy on land, but they tend to dissipate once we push off the docks. I just want to get down to the business that we came here to do. I’ve had enough traveling and talking; it’s time to row.
posted by Jamie at 4:18 PM
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