Rowing Coach and Cycling Athlete

Marisa Peacock
8.23.05

Before I began cycling competitively, I was a collegiate rower. After college, I coached a few years at the high school level, before taking a brief hiatus from the sport to focus on cycling. Recently, however, I began coaching an open masters sculling group. Now I find myself balancing life between the two sports and dual roles as coach and athlete.

When I started cycling, I carried over a lot of the training that I had learned as a rower. I would take “power tens” in my mind; challenging myself with each pedal stroke, taking me closer and closer to my competitor. I raced like a rower on a bike. Technique was integral; strategies were important and practice was paramount. Now, having been off the water longer than I’ve been on a bike, I am approaching rowing from the perspective of a cyclist. I expect my rowers to endure longer at higher stroke rates, in bad weather, in adverse conditions. Unlike cycling, there are no boat changes, no stopping to swap out oars or earpieces to channel expert advice in rowing. Once a rower shoves off from the dock and paddles to the starting area, she is alone. Alone to coach, motivate and challenge herself. Hopefully, if I’ve done my job well, she will adapt to her conditions and race confidently and strongly.

Before my ride to work, I am out on the water coaching. Most of the rowers are older than I am and are as competitive and driven as elite athletes. With only an hour of water time each morning, four days a week, the rowers desire a hard workout and technical feedback. Many will race this fall, where the average race is 5000 meters. A head race is a race against time, much like a time trial. Like cyclists, alone with their machine, they are challenged by the elements: weather, water and their mind. It is my goal as a coach to not only improve their physical strength, but their mental strength as well.

My rowers are enthusiastic and passionate about their sport; however they lack the direction to apply what they learn in practices to racing. I can relate. As a cyclist, I am roughly the same kind of rower they are. Without mentorship, I lack the direction to make me a better competitor. However, like my rowers, I hope that what I lack in experience I will make up for in spunk and enthusiasm. By coaching again, I am becoming a better athlete myself.

Last week, an installation of new docks left us stranded on land. My rowers reluctantly endured workouts on the erg—the dreaded (but useful) equivalent of the indoor trainer. I assigned erg workouts that emphasized parts of the race: the start, the body, the move and the sprint to finish. We would take it apart and then put it together again and again. As a coach, I emphasize the importance of having a plan—although, as a cyclist I rarely have one.

At the end of the week, in an effort to diversify their workouts, I presented my rowers with a Spinerval workout. Poised on spinning cycles, the athletes sweated it out, occasionally amused by the absurdity of Coach Troy, the overly-excitable host of the video series. Remarkably, the workout emphasized the components of rowing that I had worked on during the week: maintaining a high cadence while remaining strong. Shifting into harder gears was comparable to rowing at a higher stroke rating (strokes per minute). Not only did the Spinerval workout add variety and give them a much-needed day off of the erg, it solidified the connection between my roles as a rowing coach and cycling athlete. By providing direction for others, I have begun to effectively translate my rowing strategies for my rowers to my own training strategies on the bike.