Nexus Trusted Traveler!!

So, back in June, after one too many times waiting in a loooong line at the border hoping we'd make it to practice on time, and watching the odd car zoom through the Nexus lane and be on its way with barely a pause, I decided to get my own "Trusted Traveler" card. The name reminds me of the days I used to fly alone, yo-yo-ing between parents in different countries. They'd hang a "young traveler' tag around my neck, give me a bag of stuff to entertain me in-flight, and send me off down the ramp with an immaculately dressed, beautifully made-up and coiffed stewardess. (Yes we were allowed to call them stewardesses back then, when political correctness hadn't even been thought of as a concept yet.) My favorite part of those trips was collecting the little wing pins they'd give you - you had to amass a certain number to get cool stuff - and getting to go in the cockpit and hang with the pilots. Try doing that nowadays. One pilot even let me push buttons. I was terrified of sending the plane into a careening spin, almost wet my pants as I reached out to put the plane on autopilot, but we all survived.

Anyway...I have digressed. So I applied for this Nexus card, and waited. (You apply online, and you have to keep going back into the online system to check on the status of your application. They don't send you a message that you've been approved.. that's too easy. They make you work for it. If you don't check, you won't see that you've been conditionally approved, won't get to select an interview date, won't see that you have a conditional approval in the system that you need to print out and bring to your interview... etc. So you have to write down this insanely long and pointless-to-try-and-remember username and password (and hope you don't lose it because trying to get it reset is an exercise in futility) and remember to check where things are.)

I went to Hong Kong while my application was pending. When I got back and checked on it, there a few alerts in the system - I needed to respond and pick my interview date pronto or I my application would be terminated. Argh! So I picked a date. The first available was... early October.

On the appointed day, I drove to Champlain, New York, and followed the strange instructions on my letter. "Drive around to the building marked X (it didn't say X it said something else but I've since forgotten). Don't drive up to it, park your car in the lot, walk up to the building, go through the second set of sliding doors.." buckle your seatbelt three times, turn around twice, you get the idea. Anyway, I made it, I walked in, I got to sit in a cubicle with a nice US agent, then moved over three feet to chat with a Canadian agent, and we were done. "Do you want to go get your retinal scan now?" was the final question. "Uh...?" Oh sure, what the heck, I was already there and I don't have any privacy anywhere anymore anyway, what's a retinal scan gonna do?

So I got back in my car, hopped back on the highway, crossed into Canada ("you're going to that building, but don't go over to it there, go right here, then take a left at the THIRD stop sign, then go around to the side entrance..."), parked the car, shimmied myself between a jersey barrier and a bright yellow security gate thing, and marched up to a side-door (hoping it was the right one and I wasn't going to be met with pistol-wielding border agents).

Blah blah blah, got my eyes scanned, had a laugh, and off I went. Crossed back into the US and was on my way home again in less than 10 minutes.

So.. on Tuesday, with my brand new card, I decided to give it a whirl. I approached the border, saw that lane 5 was the Nexus lane, and pointed my car at it. Shit - there was the scanner thing and I'm rolling too fast and don't even have my card out of the protective sleeve yet! I pulled it out quickly, scanned it as I rolled by, thinking 'yeah, that wasn't even close to the 3 seconds pause they told me to make, oops' and continued to roll up to the booth and the lift gate/barrier. It's a booth identical to the other lanes, but it's empty. Instead, there is a little box on it, like at the Burger King drive through, with a note taped to it. "Press red button to speak to an agent."

Now I don't know about you, but in my advanced age, I find it helpful to mutter and read instructions and things out loud to myself. It gets the point across better somehow. So there I am, looking perplexed at this thing and wondering what the heck I'd gotten myself into.

"Press red button... I see a silver button, there is no fucking red button.." and just as I realized I'd sworn out loud at this box, a nasally crackle came through it.

"Bonjour madame!" Shit!
"Bonjour monsieur!"

Luckily the agent wasn't offended. Instead, he asked me a few questions, pressed his own button to lift the gate to let me pass, and wished me a nice day. Next time, I know what to do. (Keep mouth shut, press silver button, don't embarrass self.) Now if G would hurry up and get HER card too, we'd be all set.

Last competition of 2012 coming up

We're less than 7 days away from our last competition of the year. Aptly, it's on our 'home' turf in Montreal. We'll be racing the 200, 500 and 2000m. And, for the first time, I'll not only be paddling, but also steering the women's crew that I coach in their first competition as a team. I'm super excited for that!

Haven't seen G in about 3 weeks... she had family stuff going on, then I was away working... tomorrow we'll meet in the gym for the first time in what seems like forever! Can't wait - it's time to get back to the business of lifting heavy stuff because our first fit test will be upon us almost as quickly as this cool fall air seemed to hit. I had to throw on a sweatshirt and socks for the first time at home today. I even closed the windows a bit, the breeze was just a tad too chilly for me. I also succumbed to the grocery-checkout-line-marketing ploys and bought a collection of hearty soup recipes. Yup - summer is ending, the boats will be coming out of the water soon, and we'll be paddling in the indoor tank sooner than we want to admit. But we have absolutely no complaints. It's been an amazing season - our first international championships (where we showed the world what hard work and determination can accomplish); our most successful national championships ever; and too many amazing memories and experiences to list.

Champions of all the world and...

CANADA too!!

Silver for the Mixed SA Division; Gold for the Women's!

So we competed in the Canadian National Dragonboat Championships this past weekend... we went in determined to win (not only because we're a super competitive bunch of women but also because it would be mighty embarassing to have earned the champion-of-the-world title only to be beaten by a home-grown team...) and danced out of there with not one, but TWO medals. Silver and GOLD!

But I get ahead of myself.

So, for Hong Kong we had hoped to put together a mixed (i.e. co-ed) team but for a number of reasons and logistics it couldn't be pulled together in time. Instead, the team (dubbed the "all-stars" - which has such a nice ring to it) gelled for the National Championships. Even so, it was a rather hasty effort and we were only able to practice twice as a team. Because of travels and conflicting training schedules, some of the crew really only were able to get in one practice. So, for us to walk off with a silver medal in our division, and beat some premier and U23 teams in the process, was incredible. (We won our first 500mm and 200m heats, but were edged into the 2nd place spot in the finals by the teeniest of a dragon's nose-hair. We placed 3rd in the 2K, but racked up enough points between all races to place second overall. As you know my math skills aren't stellar, so don't ask me to explain the point system please.) Almer was our on-water coach, with Mike and Jon analyzing and strategizing on-land. The speed we moved at was awesome - and having A yelling at and pushing us hard (especially in the 2K, I don't think he let up on us once) was great, we didn't have time to be tired or lose motivation. Everyone had such a great experience that there are plans in the works to not only make the team a permanent fixture next season but to also earn a berth for the 2014 Club Crew World Championships in Italy. Hooray!

Where we were almost "relaxed" with the mixed boat, it was a very different story with the women's. We had a title to defend. A big one. On day one, we raced the 500m. In the initial heat, we placed first by almost two full seconds. We were elated, but knew that nothing had been won yet. What counted was the final. If we didn't place first in the final, we wouldn't be going home with our favorite color bling.  Coach gave us pointers, instructed us to warm up well, keep loose in the marshalling area, get our focus on, and nail the shit out of the race. And nail it we did...we crossed that finish line a FULL 3 seconds ahead of the second-place boat. Can you imagine the jumping and yelling??

We enjoyed our win for an hour, then focused on the 2k. This was going to be brutal - though not as bad as Hong Kong. This at least was flat water, though shallow in areas, and sans current. A big improvement! And tough it was.. we had a few challenges, and I think we racked up a 5 second penalty for something (it is a dragon boat demolition derby after all) and placed 3rd. Coach was bullshit. Coach was not pleased with us. At all. "That was NOT your best race," he said. And that was the nicest thing he could muster. I've blocked the rest of his post-race speech, but suffice it to say it was not pretty, we all felt dejected and broken, and I recall leaving the event site mad as hell. Mostly at him. Damn - I worked my ass off in that race, and I know my girls did too. Urgh. Ok, put it aside, and refocus. It was now up to the 200m the next day - it was win or go home in shame.

So day 2 dawned, and we were on freaking fire. Our drummer corralled the burn and we screamed down the course in the initial heat. Excellent work - but again, it's the final that counts. Enjoy it for an hour, Coach said, and then be ready to go again. I've said it before, but we're pretty damn good at doing what we're told. In this case it was to be more aggressive on our start, to really nail the first 5 strokes and get the heck out of the gate, and pull away from the other boats right away. Well shizzle... we did it. We bombed down that course and when we crossed the finish line, there was this palpable pause, as we all glanced left, then right and, seeing that there was CLEARLY nobody there with us, we started screaming like tweens at a Bieber concert. Ok maybe we sounded a little more mature, but you get the idea. "That what you meant?"we asked Coach when we got off the boat. He could only grin. Thank goodness. I for sure didn't want to see cranky coach again. Him I don't like so much.

Oh yeah and in the middle of all of this, as if there wasn't enough excitement going on, there was a film crew taking footage for a dragon boat documentary. And guess who the focus was? But that's a story for another day...

So what's next?

Holy crap our dream came true!! Now what?
(Photo: Rafael Veve)

So, we're back from Hong Kong, our dream of becoming world champions firmly realized. What's next? Sitting on our laurels reveling in the bliss of it and cashing in on our fame and fortune? HELL NO. ('Cause there actually isn't a whole lot of fame and certainly no fortune!) We're back to the grind, hitting the gym and the water with gusto - more so than ever perhaps. We have Canadian Nationals coming up this weekend, and are paddling on TWO teams - our beloved womens and a new mixed team, which is super exciting. It's a whole different vibe, which brings with it new challenges, opportunities and, yes, even new dreams. Dreams which include paddling for Team USA in Hungary next year. So it's time to buckle down and form a new strategy. One which includes regular OC1 time, because team selections are based heavily on time trials in an OC1... which becomes a bit of a challenge when you don't have a (or access to) an OC1. Looks like we're gonna have to find ourselves a couple in order to train ourselves for this element of our journey - but that's no easy feat when they run close to $4k a-piece! Who knew this sport was gonna be so expensive? Urgh. Bake sale anyone?

That aside, it's time to get back to training. So yesterday G and I hit the gym for our first time together since we got back. And right away things went back to their usual hilarious stupidity. 

"OK, bench press is next. So for 12 reps...how much weight do you want?"

"Well, I want 50% of my body weight. So that's....???" G calculated in her head, her mouth turning up at the corners along with her eyebrows as she pondered the problem. "OK, well, let's round up to 80. And for you.... 90."

Should be simple enough, right?

I put two 25lb plates on. G looks at me like I am completely retarded.

"Umm... that's 95. Not 80."

"Oh. Duh. Well, it seems so puny. OK, so what do you want?" I take them off, and add two 10lb plates to each side instead. G goes over to the bar, touches it, then points to each plate ... 

"45, 55, 65, 75, 85.. no, still too much."

"Glargh!" OK off with two of the 10lb-ers and on with 5lb-ers instead. 

"OK, let me see here,"G's brow is furrowed in concentration again. "45, 55, 65, 70, 75. Now it's not enough. And she adds two more 5lb-ers. "No wait, that's not right either is it?" Duh, now we're back to 85. Different plate combinations, same frigging result. Of course by now we're cracking up so much our faces are red and our eyes are little slits with tears starting to squeeze through. 

"OK, little ones!" We take off the two 5lb-ers and replace them with two 2.5lb-ers. 

"45, 55, 65, 70, 75, and five... yeah, 80!" Hooray, only took us ten minutes to figure it all out. She pushes her 12 reps and then it's my turn. Mindlessly I pick up two 2.5lb-ers and them on. She looks at the bar, ponders, looks at me, looks at the bar again.

"Yeah... no... yeah... oh, no! That's only 85." Well shit already! Off come the little plates and on with two 5lb-ers. "Yeah, ten pounds. Right?" And we go through the whole calculation again. 

"45, 55, 65...."

We might be World Champions but we're still total crap at addition and subtraction! I hope nobody was looking!

Last day of racing - could we do it again??

Sunday July 8 - last day of the championships and our attempt at the 500m

Photo doesn't do it justice, but this was the golden-ness
we woke up to that final morning of racing.

Drummer girl and I woke up to an incredible sky. At 5:30 or so (yes in the morning), there was a distinct golden haze to our room. Mostly the sky wrapped around our corner windows was dark, but above the building to the left of our hotel room was a billowy white cloud backlit by bright gold.

"I like it," I said squinting and stumbling groggily to the bathroom. It's gonna be a golden day!" 

J giggled. "I like your morning comments!"

It was the last day of racing and our toughest distance was on tap first thing. Three back-to-back 500s. We've historically had trouble with that last half...we can kill the start, bang out the first 250-300m, but lose ground on the last 200. This was not going to be easy. But after medaling in every other category so far, I wanted this one even more. We all did. We needed a clean sweep.

"We've trained for this," Coach said. "We've done this back-to-back-to-back in practice too. We are the strongest team here. Be aggressive. Kill it. Go do this." Just as with the other races, as soon as we hit the marshaling area, our faces turned to stone. Complete focus. No more talking, no joking around, no interaction with anyone else. Game faces on. But with even more grit and determination than before. This was it. Our last chance. Our last day. It was all or nothing.

We had lane 7... a great lane! This was a good sign. Relatively calm water. Good for us, good for our steer M, who had been sucked all over that insane course the day prior with the Senior B mixed boat. She had this we told her. No problem. But did I? Did I have the guts for this one?

Our start wasn't our best, our pace a little fast...and we crossed the line second, with a time of 2:09.981. Shit. I immediately regretted the second boiled egg and croissant I'd had at breakfast. I felt sick to my stomach. 

We got off the boat and huddled with coach. He told us what we needed to do. "This is your last race. There is no third race. Don't save anything. Go out there, and effing hammer it." Ok, right. Got it.

I'll say one thing for our team. We're damn good at following instructions. What coach tells us to do, we bloody-well execute. We tore out of the start gate like rabid dogs. Or, as G likes to call it, huskies unleashed. Coach told us to be fierce, and fierce we were. On the transition, we got even fiercer. The focus, power and pure grit were tangible in the air above and around us. That mist you see on the start with really good teams (and I am so happy to be able to say WE ARE A REALLY GOOD TEAM!) stayed with us down that course. In a way it felt easier than the first race. We were so connected, so relaxed in the air, snapping our exits... it all just came together. And when J called the finish... man, we just took off. For each stroke of each series in that finish we surged forward. You know those football or hockey movies when the underdog comes through at the end and just nails it? Ha, we were the movie this time. As with the previous races, the second heat times were a bit slower. But we beat team #2 by almost a full second and-a-half. May not seem like much.. but trust me, it's pretty huge. 

"One more," we said to each other, as we docked the boat and herded ourselves back up the ramp toward our customary huddle with our coach. "One more." Wow. Ok. Focus.

This one's for our families, friends and cheerleaders.
And to those naysayers who said we were nuts and
didn't think we would stick with it- thppppt!
What use is a dream if you don't reach for it?

But when we got back to base, coach was grinning at us like a crazy person. "That WAS your last race, you all didn't believe me but that was it. They're behind, so they've eliminated the third heats for everyone. That was it ladies."

We were stunned. And then he continued. He got emotional. He choked on his words. I was too stunned to remember anything but his last words. "That was dragon boat ART."

Even more stunning was that the dragon boat art we'd pulled off had gained us our third medal of the competition, in that coveted gold color! Some girls screamed, others cried. Me, I don't know where it came from but I went super quiet. Suddenly the whole thing just enveloped me and washed over me. This was it. Done. Over. No more going out in the boats, dancing with the waves, finding the connection. This was the culmination of two years of dreaming, of training, of praying, of pain, anguish, excitement, fit tests, training camps, dinners without us for our families... This was it. I felt drained, out of breath, feint. Give me a moment.. the feeling is coming back...

Mission Accomplished - we are WORLD champions

Pinch me. It still doesn't seem real. But I'm getting ahead of myself. (Actually, I'm woefully behind. My last post was about the pre-race. I've written about the 2000m - our first race and first medal of the championships. But I have written zero about our other two distances - the 200m and the 500m. Shame on me! Correcting that right now.)

Friday July 6 - the 200m
This is your race, coach told us. This is what we've been training for. We've done this back-to-back-to-back in practice. You can do this. Go get it!
We walked into the marshaling area confident, but not cocky. Cocky can mean the tiniest difference between a win and an almost win (which is, simply, a big fat loss). Cocky is no good. But confident - that's critical. We have the muscle. We have the endurance. We have to have the mind too.

In the first heat, we screamed down the course in 53.788 seconds. Pretty dang astounding considering the waves, the current, the crooked course, the lanes that narrowed and widened indiscriminately, and the fact that nobody could really tell where exactly the finish line actually was. No matter. We crossed that line, wherever it was, first. We were elated!

Then our captain spoke.
"We've won NOTHING yet ladies. We have two more races to go. Enjoy this, but realize nothing is decided yet."
Right. Knock it off. Forget it. Focus on the next heat. We circled back to the docks, brought in our boat, disembarked, went to huddle with our coach and get our instructions. Then it was right back to marshaling for heat #2.

Times were a little slower for all teams in this second heat, the wind and waves had picked up some, but we still managed to pull off the start and over the finish line ahead of the others. 54.665 was enough to give us a solid shot for the gold. It would all be up to the last race.

We did the little dance again - bring it back to the docks, disembark, analysis and pep talk, marshal, into the boat, out to the start line practicing our first 5, then 10 then 15 strokes on the way. Then it was time to go. This was it, the deciding race. More waves, more wind... heh, bring it on we all said!

I'll cut straight to the point. (Mostly because I don't really remember the race, other than it felt &$(%(!!! amazing. So strong, so powerful, so connected. We gave it EVERYTHING. That boat fair flew as far as I was concerned. And the clock confirmed it. 56.837. First again. Would it be enough for the gold?? It seemed like we waited for the official results to come out for hours. And then, suddenly, quietly, they were there. Gold. Gold. Gold. HOLY MOTHER WE HAD TAKEN THE GOLD!! I got goosebumps all over my body and cried like a baby.

When we got to the podium, and saw who would be presenting us with our medals - the tears started to flow in earnest. From the whole team. It was N - husband, now widower, of our dear departed matriarch, S. We'd lost her just before this trip, and it was so very fitting, and so incredibly special, that he be the one to place these beautiful medals around our necks.

The teams on the podium with us thought we were an incredibly emotional bunch of girls. "Wow, is this such a surprise?" we were asked. "Did you not think you could win?" "No no, it's not that," we explained. And when we told them the story, they were all crying too. These were tears of joy, of sadness, of loss, of sympathy, of empathy, of gratitude, of victory. Oh sweet victory!

Golden, world-championship smiles! Holy crap - we did it!
Photo: Eric Bindman

Pre-race success

OMG...i forgot to post about a major event! So on Monday instead of a practice we raced in the Hong Kong Dragon Boat Carnival...the waves, the water were insane. 


We raced 500m and walked out with a bronze medal and a cool dragon trophy :) Great start to our time here...!