Running

I’m totally useless at work today. Instead of taking a big chunk out of the tasks on my plate, I’m doing dumb things like ordering CDs I’ll never listen to and infinitely delaying getting lunch even though I’m hungry.

I’ve half written a post on the details of the trial, but, boy, is it boring. The process? Great. The details? Tedious. I promised myself I’d do it, but I’m putting it off for at least another day.

I had a fantastically eventful and fun week and weekend, which included:
Monday--softball
Tuesday--rowing
Wednesday--salsa dancing (with date)
Thursday--rowing
Friday--dinner/drinks (with friends)
Saturday--dinner/movie/drinks (with date)
Sunday--movie/dinner/drinks (with friends)
Monday--Ikea/cookout (with friends)

I also baked cupcakes (for the cookout) and did assorted household tasks. I knitted a tiny bit but limited sessions to ten or fifteen minutes to preserve my shoulder, which, unfortunately, still hurts. I’m back on the drug regime and plan to take the week off from all shoulder-intensive activities (such as rowing). Hopefully some serious rest will make a dent in the pain. It’s a little easier to rest a shoulder than a knee or a foot, but not as easy as I’d like it to be. I don’t want to rest it at all, but if I don’t rest it now, it may get a lot worse…

But you don’t want to hear about all that now, do you? Possibly you’d like to hear about my trip to Ikea? I went to Ikea for three reasons: Ikea lunch, “Tupperware,” and a summer-weight down comforter. I had success on all three counts, and a few others, which was a fine and expected consequence of going to Ikea. However, that summer-weight comforter turned out to be synthetic, not down. It was in the down section. I carefully read the description of the comforter up above and it said it was down. I picked one from that section—not the section with the synthetic-fill comforters—but somehow I failed to scrutinize the label. I unpacked it at home and just after I tore of the “do not remove under penalty of law” tag, I realized it was NOT a down comforter. Argh! Can I still return it after ripping off that tag? And how does Ikea manage to defeat me so consistently?

Oh, wait, maybe you actually wanted to hear about my dates. I can’t say much, because to do so would violate my one and only fundamental rule: don’t write about dates with guys who read the blog. Since I met this particular fellow at a blogger-type function and he was introduced to me by my blogger name, I won’t go into much detail. I will tell you this: we had a good time, he apparently enjoys listening to my stories (note to self: give him a chance to talk), and I expect we’ll see each other again--at least I hope we will.

(Aside: things with Kansas have stayed over. I’ve heard not one peep from him after our final email exchange last week. The days of needing to remember to silence the phone before bedtime are over, thank goodness.)

I also spent some time this weekend with the fellows, Hap and Sam, I met a couple of weeks ago at a neighborhood bar. The events were of the group variety and may go some way to expanding my circle of friends. A lot of my DC friends have moved on and others have packed schedules or significant others. It’s hard to find time to see them more than once or twice a month. I need a larger group of friends to draw on. As we all know, it is hard to meet people outside of the normal routine of work. You’d think I’d make friends rowing, but that hasn’t really happened. I have some modest hopes that Hap’s group may yield some new friends. He is not transient, which is a big plus. If I get hooked into the group, I’ll get invites from people other than Hap. I made friends with a big group my first summer in DC and it worked out well in the short-term, but those friendships didn’t have staying power. That might happen here too, but I’m willing to give it a try.

To wrap up: my shoulder still hurts and knitting and rowing are on hold while I rest it. After the craziness of last week, I will try and take this week slower so I don’t burn out. Ikea defeated me. I had a couple of dates and hope to have (at least) a couple more. I hung out with some old friends and some potential new friends. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

Grateful for: new friends.

Bananas

No, this isn't a post about my craziness. Isn't that every post? Well, sometimes I write about other people's craziness.

Yesterday, we heard the last closing arguments. One of the attorneys was fantastic--he quoted Shakespeare, used props, and spoke without notes. Most impressively, he twisted the words of others and remained completely likeable. I'd hire him.

We were dismissed an hour early because the judge has to finalize the verdict form and the instructions. I was so excited because I could go home and…work! I suppose it's inevitable that I would start missing my job. It's not the work itself I miss; it's the cooperation. The thing I have to finish affects other people (kinda) and I don't want to disappoint them. Or, maybe, I want to impress them by getting things done on my own.

I did get some work done, and some blog reading and emailing. Pele and I discussed taking a trip to the beach, but she's never free. However, we're both free on Saturday and I said, "Let's do something fun!"

Her thought: "Is that a challenge?" She wrote, "Let's go to the beach!"

So, we're going for one night this weekend. It's perfect. Hotels are cheap, the weather, while cool, is clear and sunny, and we have time. I wasn't trying to challenge Pele. My "fun" thought was to see a band at one of the H St. bars in my neighborhood that I keep meaning to visit. My other thought was to avoid hanging around with Kansas.

After a little work, a little email and a little snack, it was time to bike to rowing. It was not one of my better practices. My timing was off and mid-way through practice, I got one of those crazy, painful toe cramps in my right foot. About three-quarters way through practice, I got the toe cramp in the left foot. When we docked, I got a charley horse in my left calf. I couldn't stand up when it was time to get out of the boat. I said, "I am cramp city today!"

The woman sitting in front of me said, "You need to eat more bananas!"

The woman sitting in front of her said, "You need to eat more bananas!"

I did not argue with them.

I biked home without incident, despite exhaustion. Tonight, I will buy some bananas.

Grateful for: last minute plans.

Tired

Ok. So. I'm tired. Tonight, instead of sculling, I rowed. Our coach was exhausted and wanted to go home. The sweep group had spots for two of us, so I jumped in. I didn't feel any desperate need to return to a sweep boat, which surprised me. It looks like sculling was a good choice since I don't miss the eight as much as I thought I would.

Next topic…Kansas. I've put an end to the pseudo romance part of the relationship. I've known this was coming…for pretty much the entire time I've known him. It's not quite over completely, but it may have that effect eventually. We shall see.

How did I handle it? Via email, of course. What I wanted to write was a little different than what I actually wrote. Instead of telling him how he felt, I stuck to how I felt (mostly):

[Kansas]--I'd like to talk to you, but I'm not going to call (again) since I know that makes you uncomfortable.

This is what I want to say: I like you. I think we can be friends. I would like us to be friends. I could use your help drawing the line, though. No more late night visits or calls. I don't want to stop seeing you, but the late night calls are too disruptive. I'd like to actually be able to talk to you sometime and that is much easier when you're not quite so drunk and I'm not quite so tired.

Please don't think I'm cutting you off. That's not the case. But certain things need to end so we can be friends. I hope you agree.

[Jamy]

His response:

I do understand and you are right and i agree. Are you still in that trial?

Which was about the best I could have hoped for. I wrote back and we had a lot of banal, normal back and forth. I've found after a break up (even a pseudo break up) a bit of small talk helps normalize things.

This also made me think about what happens when you break up with someone and try to be friends. Who makes the friendship overtures? I think it has to be the breaker-upper. It has to be the person who wanted to change the nature of the relationship.

I have a bunch more to say on this topic, but my forearms are tired and typing is mighty uncomfortable. Later gators.

Grateful for: rowing options.

Pleasant

Here's a non-exciting recap of my non-exciting, but pleasant, weekend.

Friday: I fully intended to go out in the evening. I had two happy hour options. What did I do? Sat home and watched a dvd. It was just complete and total collapse.

Saturday: a full and busy day. In the morning, I rowed. We went out in the quad again. I love, love, love that boat. I would be happy to only ever go out in the quad. I've been in a double a couple of times now, too, and that's ok. Both times, I was stroke--not due to my competence in that position, but due to my lack of experience sculling. It makes no sense to put me in bow. Bow in a double (or a quad) is a big responsibility--you steer the boat and you're always looking over your shoulder. I don't like to do it and I'd certainly be bad at it until I get more practice sculling. The weather was perfect, the water was good and it was a great row.

After rowing, I did a quick change in the car (I had the flexcar all day) and drove to Virginia to attend a birthday party for some three-year-old twins. It was fun, but it would have been more fun to shower and nap.

Instead, after the party, I drove home, showered and then went to pick up Diego. He was helping his nephew with his "flat Stanley" school project. Basically, we had a paper cut-out in the outline of Diego's nephew. We took it to the Mall. Diego held it up and I took pictures. Some came out well. Others…not so much. Diego will assemble a scrapbook featuring "Stanley's" experiences in DC and mail it back to his nephew. I hope the scrapbook does not feature our conversation, which was not appropriate for grade school age kids. Ahem.

After rowing, partying with three-year-olds and tromping around the Mall, the natural next step was to go grocery shopping. I did a small shop and then home, where I collapsed again, but this time with better reason.

Kansas update: when I looked at my phone on Saturday morning I saw two missed calls from him. 2:50am and 2:56am. I'd learned my lesson and set the phone to silent. When I saw those calls, I was angrier than when I've actually answered his late night calls. If I'd forgotten to silence the phone, even if I hadn't answered it, I would have been awoken at nearly three am. I had such a busy Saturday, I couldn't afford to lose any sleep. As it turned out, I slept well. But the inconsideration really pissed me off.

I stewed a little and in the mid-morning, I called and left Kansas a message. [Note: I did not call him at 8am--I didn't want to wake him.] I told him, more or less, that this had to stop, it wasn't friendly and it was lucky I'd silenced my phone. Not surprisingly, I haven't heard from him since.

This is the thing--I don't really mind if you call me in the middle of the night. It doesn't even have to be an emergency. If you have something to say, if you want to talk to me, it's ok. Maybe you'll do the same for me sometime. But there should be a REASON. It can't just be because you're drunk and emotionally stunted and can't figure out how to relate to me the rest of the time. It can't be a SUBSTITUTE for other kinds of communication. I shouldn't have to silence my phone every friggin' night because Kansas may be out drinking. Enough is enough.

And, because I left him that phone message and he hates conflict (shocker), I don't expect to hear from him for a while. Though he might send an email.

Sunday will be good, though. I've done laundry, made an omelet and done some knitting. Soon, I'll leave the house and enjoy this gorgeous day. I hope you all do the same.

Grateful for: lovely weather.

Sculler?

Tonight I did something I haven't done in years (about 15 years, actually): I sculled. Sculling is rowing with two oars per person in smaller, lighter boats--with smaller, lighter oars. Sculling boats are singles, doubles and quads. Last year I was sweep rowing--which is done with one oar per person in bigger, heavier boats with bigger heavier oars. Sweep boats come in pairs, fours and eights.

In my rowing history, I learned to scull first. My mom had an "ocean" shell, which is about as wide as a canoe and very stable. Racing shells are narrower and harder to balance, but I've rowed in those too.

A couple of years after I graduated from college, I decided to take a rowing class. It never occurred to me to do anything other than sculling. It had been years since I rowed my mother's boat and I'd never been coached, but I knew the basics. They put us out in wherrys (the wide type of single shell) and I learned a few things. I particularly learned that I enjoyed rowing in doubles and quads rather than in singles. Soon after, I took a sweep class--and I haven't sculled since. Until tonight, that is.

I got to thinking that sculling might make more sense than sweep rowing. I have lingering shoulder pain that I developed from rowing last year. I've exacerbated it from knitting (yes, I know, KNIT LESS). Also, I have not been looking forward to rowing! So weird, since I was so excited about it last year.

One reason I didn't consider sculling before, besides my love of sweep rowing, is that I didn't want to take a beginner class. This year I realized there is an intermediate sculling program. I exchanged a couple of emails with the coach and I went down to try it out today. We got in a quad and rowed around the river for about an hour. It felt good. I remembered more or less what to do and it was fun. Quads are great boats and the one we were in is a beauty. The rower sitting ahead of me was rather inexperienced and most of the coach's efforts were directed at her. She only gave me one comment and I corrected immediately.

The thing I didn't remember about sculling is how might lighter and easier to handle the equipment is--that alone makes things easier on my shoulder. The smaller boats are easier to flip, but quads are very stable.

After we got off the water, the coach (out of ear shot of the rest of us) advised the more inexperienced rower to take the novice sculling class. Later, the coach came to talk to us and I gave her an inquisitive look. She said, "You're fine. I'm not worried about you."

I went on to say how beautiful the boat was that we'd rowed in and she started to glow. "That's the boat we took to Worlds. But it's ok for you all to use it--in a coached environment."

"Of course!" I said.

She said, "But it's a great boat. It's has to be used!"

I think I'll be sculling for now--at least for the spring season. I'll go back to sweep if I get the itch. I'm very encouraged, though, that after all these years, I still know what I'm doing with two oars.

Grateful for: sculling.

Doored!

Riding to rowing practice yesterday…my first practice of the season…I had a bike accident. I really have bad luck biking to practice. Last year, I was rear ended, and now, knocked down by a careless woman opening her car door.

I was riding down a busy street. There was about half of lane between the flow of traffic and the cars parked on the street. I put myself in the middle of this space and kept alert for cars turning right AND potential opening doors. The opening doors are tricky because you can't always tell if someone is in the car. If I see someone in the car, I'll give it a wider berth. I couldn't move completely out of car door range without getting too close to the moving cars. I stayed a little closer to the parked cars than the moving cars.

I approached a navy blue sedan and I detected some movement. I rang my bell and steered to the left. She swung the door open fully and quickly…and clipped me on the right side, right as I was passing, knocking me down on the pavement.

What I'll never be able to explain is how I refrained from swearing at her. Instead, I yelled, "What are you doing?!?! YOU HAVE TO LOOK BEFORE YOU OPEN YOUR DOOR!!!!" I was still on the ground.

She stood before me, looking stunned, and said, "No I don't." She was in her mid-thirties, possibly younger.

I started to get up, checking that I wasn't seriously injured. I shouted, "What!!! Yes you do! You have to look! You have to check for bikes!" I was angry.

"I never have before! Are you ok?"

I said, "You don't get to know."

I quickly scanned the bike to make sure I could ride it. I hopped back on and rode to practice, swearing at her under my breath. "You don't have to look!? Fuck you!"

People are crazy.

The good news is the bike was completely undamaged. I, however, sustained some minor bruises on my knee and ankle. Not, I realized later, from the fall, but from the force of my collision with the door. The bruises are on my right leg, but I fell to my left. I have one bruise on my left hip from the fall. Overall, though, I'm fine.

Sadly, I've learned little from this encounter. I already knew to check for doors. Hopefully, this crazy woman will now know to check for bikes.

Grateful for: coming through relatively unscathed.

Rejected!

No sailing this weekend. No date with Frank. How did it come about?

Today, I sent Frank this email: Hey Frank--any sense of the timing--Sat or Sun? I need to get a few other things squared away so it would be helpful to know...

Frank responded: bad news - just called my skipper - tomorrow is out...next sunday is a go though.

I wrote: Oh, that's a shame. I'm out of town next weekend....so maybe the time after that?

Frank wrote: exactly.

And that was that.

I ran down the hall to tell Diego the news. It really was about sailing! I said, "There's no sailing and there's nothing else."

"Did you ask him?" Diego said.

"How many times am I supposed to ask him? I think I did enough already."

"Well, at least you know."

"I didn't need to know."

"But you liked him! You said you liked him."

"No, I did not!!"

Geez. I really have to stop letting Diego bully me into these things.

My feeling about Frank? I like him but I don't think he has boyfriend potential, so that reduces my romantic interest. However, I find him very attractive and if I were inclined towards casual dalliances, he would be an excellent candidate. He is fun and easy going and would possibly make a good friend. That's about it. I was not crushed out on Frank. I was subject to some situational anxiety because I put myself way out there by suggesting alternative plans. I'm grateful that Frank is ignoring my suggestion and not giving me an outright reject. Because, really, I still want to go sailing someday.

---

Guess what? I have another non-dating story to share. Two in one day! Excitement!!

There is this guy, Jeff, in my rowing club, who I've had my eye on for a while. He is a former coach, getting back to the sport. A big, tall, likeable guy. He's been rowing in the morning and coming out in the afternoon as well. He's not quite in shape to row twice a day yet (according to him), so in the afternoons he volunteers to cox. That makes him a good citizen, which I also like.

Earlier this week, he coxed my boat. I was in four-seat and he noticed a problem with my stroke (nothing too serious, but a little tic that's hard to correct). He watched me for a few strokes and told me when I fixed the problem. The next time I saw him I was stretching before practice, and he said, "Were you four-seat in my boat the other day?"

"Yes."

"You know what you were doing, at the catch, you were sinking the oar in too deep…"

"Yes, I remember you told me that."

"But the good thing is that you would bring it right back up and pull through the whole stroke at the right level." (I did something right! Cute boy noticed!) "You just have to figure out how to drop it in at the right level."

"I know. When you were telling me I did it right, those strokes fell very shaky. I know I'm sort of 'attacking' the catch. It's too strong."

"Yeah, you have to lighten up the catch. It's hard to find that balance. And not waste that energy."

"Right. It's funny, I can't remember if this is a problem I had before or not…."

Then another woman came up and started talking to Jeff so I went back to stretching.

The same day, after practice, we all went out for a beer and a bite to eat. When we arrived, our table wasn't ready yet, so we crowded in at the bar. I managed, not by accident, to sit next to Jeff at the very end of the bar. He said, "What beer do they have here?" I read the set of taps nearest to us. "But what about down there? Those taps in the middle—they look different."

"I can't read all the way down there!"

Jeff said, "Me neither." We laughed. "I guess I should go down there and look."

But he didn't go anywhere and when I ordered, he had what I was having. After we got the beers he said, "So, what do you do when you're not rowing?"

I said, "I work at [federal agency] doing research."

"What kind of research?"

"Program evaluation. I study what we do."

He laughed, "You study yourself? Isn't there a problem with that?"

I laughed and said, "You might thinks so, but no. You have to keep track of how your programs work. Anyway, the research is mostly done by contractors. I just tell them what to do." There was a slight pause. I almost kept talking about my job, but instead I said, "So what do you do?"

And he told me! Right about then, I noticed a woman from our club standing just behind us, making a triangle of our group. I'd rowed in front of her that day (I was in four-seat, she was three-seat)—but this is when she chooses to introduce herself, "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Stacy." We shook hands. She turned to Jeff, "And you're Jeff, right?"

And then the three of us were talking. I saw what she was doing and I didn't like it one bit. The problem? There aren't many guys in our club—it's probably three women for each man. Of the guys, many are coupled and the rest are too old (20+ years) or too young (10- years) for me. Jeff appears to be single, he's over thirty and he's attractive. Stacy is at least ten years younger than me, slim, blonde (irrelevant) and very pretty. I wanted to say, "Stacy, you have way more options than I do, could you please BACK THE HELL OFF." Instead, I smiled, nodded and actively participated in the conversation.

Jeff didn't ignore me in favor of Stacy, but he didn't seem displeased at her presence either. But, that's just the kind of guy he is—friendly and kind to everyone. See why I like him?

When it was time to move to our table, Stacy boxed me out. Boxed me out. She stood in the narrow aisle, blocking me, and waited for Jeff to sit. He chose a seat near the middle, with one chair taken to his right and one empty chair on his left. Stacy swooped in and got the empty chair next to Jeff. I sat one seat over from Jeff on his right—there was a person between us (someone I like, luckily). On my right was a very cute, ten years younger than me guy who I could not appreciate because I was too busy subtly monitoring Jeff's level of attention to Stacy. (Wait, that's not really true, I'm exaggerating for effect. I had a fun time talking to the cute young guy, even if he was a Dookie. But I've talked to him before, and even if you ignore that he's too young for me, we just don't click.)

I had to ask, where is Pele when you need her???

I'm a little concerned since, Jeff, being a rare bird on our club (single, attractive, male) sort of has his pick. I don't want to be one of a bunch of women running after him. I want him to come to me! That may be asking too much.

I just told this story to Diego and guess what he said? "Ask him out!"

Oy.

Grateful for: options.

Drop me a line.

Dress like a rower

Since I started rowing again, I've been giving some thought to the specialized clothing for different athletic activities. These clothes are mixture of function and fashion—for example, basketball shorts. The change from the teeny-tiny shorts of the 1970s to the large baggy ones of contemporary times has very little to do with function. It's 100% a fashion statement.

Rowing has specialized clothing as well, and it also combines fashion and function.

1. Shoes. There are no shoe requirements! In rowing, you don't wear shoes. You wear your shoes—and they may be sneakers, flip flops or boat shoes (topsiders—remember those?)—down to the dock. You then take them off and either leave them on the dock (definitely if you are racing) or put them in the boat. Your feet are then covered by wool socks. Cotton socks in a boat are just silly. You ALWAYS wear socks, though. The feet are placed in either "boot stretchers" which are boards with some kind of lacing on top (rarer these days in the new boats) or sneakers. The sneakers are large and fastened to a board.
   
   So, no shoes, yes to socks—but the socks are specialized (hiking socks are typical). There is some fashion/peer pressure element in what shoes are worn to the dock, but not much on the socks. The big, thick wool socks are recommended for safety reasons. You are supposed to fasten the boot stretchers tightly, but if you are wearing a large, thick sock, you could scoot your foot out easily in an emergency. Wool because--they stay warm when wet.



2. Shorts. A big mistake novice rowers make is wearing baggy shorts in the boat. Baggy or loose anything in the boat is a big no-no. Why? The seat slides on metal tracks. Any loose clothing near the tracks will get caught and ruined. If it happens when you're rowing, it can stop you dead, which can cause problems for you and the rest of the boat.
   
   Most rowers wear tight, bike-style shorts to practice. If you ever wear baggy shorts in the boat, it will only be once.
   
   There is actually a rowing-only piece of specialized clothing in this category. They are called "trou" (short for trousers). Trou look like bike shorts—but do not be fooled, there is no padding in trou. The specialized nature of these shorts is a double layer of fabric in the rear. This is to protect against the hard seat (but no padding! rowers are tough!) and potential tears caused by the tracks. You can wear padded bike shorts, but the padding may become uncomfortable because it's not in the right place for rowing.
   
   When I started rowing, I always wore unpadded bike-style shorts. Sometimes I'd wear two pair. I bought one pair of trou, which I always wore to races.
   
   With the advent of "capri" length, snug-but-not-tight exercise pants, I've found a great compromise. This length pant covers and warms the knee, which is nice while it's still a little chill. And, they protect the back of the calf, which is also prone to getting cut up on the tracks (this is called "track bite"). (You will sometimes see rowers wearing a high sock on the leg that gets cut on the track or a piece of tube sock on the upper calf. I don't know why, but one calf usually gets cut, while the other is only bruised.)
   
   A triumphant day for me was when my coach said, "You're bleeding." "What? Where?" He pointed to my left calf, which was, in fact, sending a steady but small trickle of blood down my leg.
   
   "You didn't notice?" Coach said.
   
   "I didn't feel it." I smiled. Track bites are a total badge of honor. The bloodier and more scabbed the better. We all had scars by the end of the season.



3. Shirts. There are no shirt requirements, but there are practices. When I started rowing, all of the women on the team wore the same outfit: an extra-large t-shirt, spandex shorts and running shoes. (I might have been the only one wearing boat shoes and wool socks, but I knew more than they did. I eventually switched to sneakers—peer pressure.) As soon as you got in the boat, however, you had to tuck that huge t-shirt into your tight shorts. The tail of the shirt could get caught in the tracks.
   
   Why didn't we wear tighter, shorter shirts? I don't know, but I couldn't imagine running around with my spandex clad butt hanging out—and none of the other women could either, regardless of how fit and trim they were.
   
   What I find amusing is that I no longer wear extra large t-shirts to the gym. I wear slim-fitting, short t-shirts. All of my current t-shirts work just fine for rowing, with no tucking required. And, while I do favor baggy exercise shorts, which are a no-no in the boat, my slim-fitting short pants work just fine.
   
   Once, during my second spring training, when I was on the varsity crew, we were stunned to see the novice women wearing nothing more than their sports bras and tight shorts in the boat. Some of our jaws must have popped open. We'd been rowing together for almost a year and a half and none of us would have dreamt of rowing without our shirts on (except for Rhonda who rowed in her bikini top because she was trying to get a tan). I wouldn't have done it because I burn easily, but I was also too modest for this kind of display—and so were my teammates. But not those novices. (They did put their shirts back on before getting out of the boat.)
   
   There is one kind of specialized shirt for rowing—the racing jersey. It is a tank with your school/team colors that is ONLY worn on race day. The tank is the traditional rowing shirt because it leaves maximum freedom for arm movement. They are cut for men and women, with the men's shirts having much larger arm holes. You may wear a long sleeve shirt underneath for fall races (I always did).



4. Hat. Of course, hats are not required. But I always wear a hat. It keeps the sun off my face and the sweat out of my eyes. I don't think I can row without a hat anymore. Visors and hats are common in the boat.



5. Hair. A non-issue for most men. Most women wear their hair in a pony tail. I always have. It was so common on my UNC team that when we saw each other with our hair down, we didn't always recognize each other.



6. The unisuit. Ah, the unisuit. For all the reasons mentioned above, a unisuit makes a lot of sense for rowing. I've mentioned the tracks, which can catch loose shirts and shorts. Loose clothing can also get caught on your oar, which brushes the body as part of the stroke. Thus, a unisuit is the ultimate rowing outfit. You will never see me wearing a unisuit.



7. The jacket. When we came back for our second year of crew at UNC, we had the opportunity to purchase a varsity jacket. Every single one of us got one. The rowing jacket will usually have the name of the team printed across the back and the emblem for the team embroidered on the front along with some crossed oars (at least that's how mine is). It's common for the jacket to have two colors (mine is navy blue and sky blue). Rowing jackets always have an extra little flap at the back that you may sit on if you wear it in the boat (it doesn't work well in practice). They are pullover style, with a half-zip front and extra room at the shoulders to allow for freedom of movement. I stopped wearing my rowing jacket when I stopped rowing. When I started rowing last week, I got it out of the closet where it's been hanging all these years. I don't feel silly wearing it anymore.

Grateful for: knowing what to wear.