I get numerous queries about technique by e-mail, so I suppose a column on the subject is overdue. However, I will only write this after providing some warnings first:
Warning 1. Technique is something which can only be properly coached by looking at the individual or the crew in person. It is not something which should be coached by e-mail, unless the person giving the advice is familiar first-hand with the rower or crew in question. I suppose video tapes are a substitute (uh-oh, here come some large packages in my mailbox - my VCR can handle both American and European formats, if anyone is wondering. Please pay your own customs duties and don't send registered mail to my home, as it is a real pain for me to receive packages I have to sign for at home).
Warning 2. Listen to your own coach first and foremost. Not only is your own coach there watching (which I am not), but it is your own coach who is coaching you, not me. I am happy to provide a new way of looking at things, but it is not me who is coaching you - you must work with whoever is coaching you.
Warning 3. Realize that there is not just one technique. As long as a technique has its internal logic and everyone in a crew is using the same technique, then the technique is fine. Some techniques have widely different internal logics.
Warning 4. A specific technique is not right for everyone. Techniques will need to be tailored for the person or crew. Just because something works does not mean everyone has to do it.
Warning 5. Technique columns, such as this, are merely ways of exchanging ideas and should be used accordingly.
With that said, I now move on to one of my more interesting technical experiments. Inspired by my last column, I thought I would discuss the technique I used with my 1995 women’s first eight. For those who have been around on the internet for a while, there was a prolonged discussion of this technique on the internet back in the Summer of 1995. Many of my notes are in storage somewhere in the US, but I thought I would distill the issues from what I was able to dig up here in Switzerland.
As noted above, and as I explain to anyone I coach, there are many styles of rowing, and many of them have proven successful. The important thing about technique is that it is well thought-through, internally consistent, and that everyone in a crew rows the same technique. It is often fun to watch composite crews in their first outings together and to guess who rowed for which college merely by watching their differing techniques.
Obviously, most coaches will say that their general style is the “best” or they would not coach it. There is a lot of stylistic disagreement – or at least discussion. I personally have a general style which I coach, but I tailor that style to the specific needs of the crew, and even to the time of year and the level. Coaching is not a proscriptive art – it is always important to remember that the bottom line is boatspeed, and small – sometimes surprising – adjustments will often be needed in order to maximize boatspeed.
My 1995 women’s first eight is instructive on many fronts. First of all, they were inexperienced yet needed to race way above their presumed level. Second, they were an especially large crew. Third, I had my own general technique to adapt for them. Fourth, we made the switch from macons to hatchets shortly before the racing season. Fifth, as the season went on, my eyes told me we needed to continue to make adjustments. And, finally, all of this occurred in Britain – Oxford specifically – so that my general style, and certainly my modifications, were at great odds from the style used by all the crews around us (including that taught by our own novice coach).
I noticed early on in my five-year stay in Britain that although there was no absolute “standard” British technique, there were some peculiarities I spotted when I observed other crews (it should be noted that the first club I was associated with in Britain – Nottinghamshire County – did not row like typical British crews of the time, and the technique developed at Notts County in the 1980s has enormously influenced the way many row in Britain today).
Some basic points I noticed in the traditional British style:
1. setting footstretchers off backstops, which produces two corrolaries:
1a. emphasizing the finish
1b. putting the rower further behind the pin
2. lots of forward body rock (result of 1b, actually)
3. weak catches (result of 1a, partially)
4. saving the legs to finish together with the arms (helps with 1a)
5. lifting early with the back (see 1a and 3)
6. breaking the arms early (more in line with 4)
7. holding the legs flat longer on the recovery
I found this about as odd as most folks in Oxford found my crews’ techniques, especially odd when it was taken to the extreme of what I called the “toe-touching” technique employed by some crews (even very successful ones).
It is worth noting that this technique has changed, in part due to the success of Notts County (and crews such as the Cambridge men’s heavyweights, who employed Notts County coaches and started to dismantle their Oxford counterparts at least partly due to superior technical prowess). The changes in British technique were also brought about by the arrival of the hatchet blade, for which the traditional British technique was ill-suited. There were many instances of back trouble in Britain with the new blade shape – traceable, I thought, to the undue load placed on the back at the catch by the traditional British technique which was manageable with macon blades by not with the heavier load of the hatchet. There was also the further issue that traditional British technique emphasized the finish, the legs were saved and the outboard arm was still drawing around the pin rather than tapping down when the inboard hand finished pulling through, and this led to difficulties getting the hatchet blade, with its deeper face, extracted from the water. To account for the new blade shape, there were several experiments done to soften the finish, and those experiments resulted in the breakdown of the internal logic of the stroke (it being impossible to both emphasize the finish and soften it). More fundamental changes were in store.
My technique is decisively upright and catch-oriented. In 1995, I tried an experiment by taking that technique to its logical extreme. Besides having the rowers set off frontstops (something I do anyway once my novices are capable of rowing a technically-consistent full-slide and always making it to frontstops), I moved the tracks forward substancially. This meant that the rowers got to their pins after minimal forward body lean (essentially, when the rowers got their wrists over their knees they had already reached the pin and they were not to get any more body-rock). Any reach beyond the pin actually shortens the stroke by limiting range of motion relative to the pin and forcing the outboard shoulder down. By setting the rowers in the boat so far forward (that is, towards stern) relative to the pin, this forced the crew to sit upright and twist their bodies around the pin.
I did a series of drills with them where I actually got them to face the bank with their torsos as they came forward to the catch. While they did not get quite that much twist normally, the drill got them to lengthen their strokes not by over-reaching but by sitting up and twisting. Then, since the emphasis of my stroke was sharply on the catch, the legs went down hard while the body merely twisted around with the oar handle. This relieved a lot of pressure on the lower backs as well when we started to use hatchets.
One thing that works with this technique is to focus on what the inboard shoulder is doing. On the recovery, the rower has already passed the pin. The inboard shoulder should be twisting backwards towards bow. Doing wide-grip drills emphasizes this. At the catch, the inboard elbow may even be bent slightly as the normal grip is even slightly wider than what most people prefer. Then, during the drive, the inboard shoulder pushes forward while the outboard arm and lat draw around.
There will naturally be a bit of what is often described as “leaning into the rigger” (more in this case like “coming around the rigger”) at the catch. Ideally, the butt will stay firmly centered on the seat, the torso will be twisted around, and the head will be facing forward. Because of the torso twist, the head will be off-center. If the inboard shoulder is relatively down and behind, the body will be “leaning in” as it were (although, in fact, the body is rather upright, as the body has not gone for any extra body-reach after the very beginning of the recovery). I might add that this technique also neutralizes a good deal of problems which may develop when rowers in a crew are of many different heights – as long as they are all flexible enough to pivot around the pin, and they are all set off the frontstops together, flexibility at the hips now counts for more.
As for the advantages of this experiment – well, it was tailored to the specific crew. As I explained last month, it was very inexperienced and very large. There was a lot of weight crashing around, and early-on they had a serious rush going. By rowing bolt upright, their bodies did not flop around as much. Also, they could get onto their slides sooner, thus giving them much more time to slide and meaning they could do recoveries of the same speed with a slower slide. By the middle of the racing season, they were doing a base rate of 38-39 without rushing.
Then there was the issue of hatchet blades. The new blades arrived shortly before the racing season, and every other (albeit British) crew around us was complaining of back trouble upon switching from macons to hatchets. With the upright technique, I figured there would be less tension on the lower back. The body sits up over the legs, and the legs take the catch entirely. For novices who sometimes missed water at their catches, they could not afford to let too much weight fall onto their backs mid-stroke either, so I wanted to reduce body-swing even more. Of course, nothing substitutes a sharp catch, but I would argue against taking any of the catch in the back or of letting the back set the catch, as many crews in Britain traditionally do.
Mid-season, I moved the tracks even further astern (about 10 cm or so), and the crew went from fast to faster. They were very strong, and this enabled them to keep their bodies taller and kick their legs even harder. As I mentioned last month, after starting the racing season expecting them to be a low-rating crew, I found they did better at the higher ratings since they had to remember to kick like hell on every stroke in order not to rush (something they did not remember at rates lower than 37, when they dropped the power and had to rush to keep the rate – an unusual problem, to be sure, but one which stemmed from their complete lack of experience). Since they were a heavy crew, they could also use their body weight effectively laying back on the oar – throwing that weight forward on the recovery would have only made them crash around and rush more, but laying them back on the drive let them utilize the weight in a good way. I also rigged the boat and geared the oars very heavy. All together, it was an odd combination.
Would I do the same thing with another crew? Maybe, maybe not. I had never done this to such an extreme before, and although I took big lessons from the experiment, I have never done this to such an extreme since. It worked, but I did what I did for a specific crew because that is what I thought the crew needed. As I have been stressing, it is good to know about and understand the options, but the decision to make any changes has to be made with the crew being coached in mind. With a squad system, the whole squad must share a base stylistic philosophy, but deviations can be made once line-ups are set. This is what coaching is about.
Likewise, for those clubs which often field composite crews, it is important to use compatible styles. I generally do not like to form composites, although I have done so sometimes for expediency in specific situations.
Since technique is hard to teach in prose, I figure I need to pull a few photos out of the archives.
First off, here is the 1995 Wolfson College Women's First Eight coming forward to the catch (photo by JET Photographic). Note how compressed their legs are, and they have not even rolled all the way to full slide yet (almost, but not quite). This photo was taken from the starboard side, so the angle allows us to see just how far around the rigger the starboard side has twisted from the hips. Notice where the inboard and outboard shoulders are in relation to each other. Also notice how wide a grip they used, and the slightly-bent inboard arm. From this angle, the same technique on port side is deceiving, but they are doing the same thing as the starboards.
Next, here is the same crew at the finish (photo taken by a friend of one of the crew members). This is after about three strokes on the start, so it is not quite a fair assessment. But the thing to notice is that since they were set so far towards stern, they rowed through the pin early on the drive and necessarily got much layback. Although I have spent this month extolling the technical experiment I did with this particular crew, you will note that one of the reasons I did it was to mask their inexperience. They were hardly a picture-perfect crew, technically speaking, so have fun catching the flaws in this photo. But do appreciate that although they are most of the way through the pull-through they still have their body weight behind the oar handle. Also notice how the legs are fully flat - a typical British crew of that time would still have its legs bent at this point in order to keep the power on to the finish. I have this crew emphasizing the catch and using the body weight to keep the power on through the drive. Finishes are also coming in with the inside arm, allowing the outside arm to prepare for the extraction.
By contrast, check out the 1996 Wolfson College Women's First Eight (JET Photographic again), with six of the same rowers returning. That year, James Hopkins - my novice coach with the standard British technique - came on to finish the crew during the racing season. Note that he has set them further back. They are getting less twist and more forward lean - one tell-tale sign is to check out the angle under their knees. They are at the catch, yet they have much less compression than the previous year. With the additional forward body lean they have nowhere else to go anyway.
In another contrast, here is a crew which rowed a more traditional British technique, but for which I came on as the finishing coach: the 1996 Corpus Christi College Men's First Eight (JET Photographic again). I did not change their slides or the fundamental theory of their technique. But I found them to be a bit short in the water at the catch end, so I incorporated the body-twist into the technique they were already using. Notice the contrast with the 1995 Wolfson women taken from a similar angle: the Corpus men have much more forward lean, are less-compressed and already have their stomachs up against their thighs. But they are still getting decent twist and their stroke is much longer at the catch as a result, without losing their catches (even allowing for the 4-man to be the stereotypical hammer and the 2-man to be a little stiff and uncomfortable-looking). For those unfamiliar with bumps racing, the fact that there is a crew directly in front of them in this photo is a positive thing - it means my crew is about to score a hit. St. Anne's had dreadful technique, which the visible bladework only hints at. This was a relatively quick bump).
For intermediate ideas, here is the 1994 Lady Margaret Hall Women's Second Eight (JET again) - a very scrappy crew with a great spirit. They were a relatively lightweight crew, and I employed a pretty standard technique (for me) with them. They do have forward body lean, although it is not extreme, and good compression (both leg compression and upper-body compression against the thighs. They have come around the pin reasonably well in preparation for the catch, but without letting their body weight flop. The stroke was a work in progress and the real spirit behind the group, but it took her a few years to catch on. She moved into the stroke seat rather late (midway through Eights Week), because she was the biggest fighter in the crew and I needed to play up their advantage in the scrappiness department. This also got me a last-minute bucket in 7-6, so if they look uncomfortable in the bucket together, it is because this photo was taken during the very first day (and race) in which they rowed in that configuration.
A more stern-view photo (again JET), now of the 1993 Lady Margaret Hall Women's First Eight, demonstrates how "leaning into the rigger" and "coming around the pin" do not actually mean falling out of the boat - the weight must remain centered. This was an especially light crew (120 lbs/54kg average) , so there was not really much weight to fall around. Even so, if you are going to be that small and hope to compete, you must be effective technically since there is no weight to rely on.
During the pull-through (or, better-said, the leg-drive), the body-weight must remain locked onto the water, even as the focus is on the legs. The crew must remember to continue to work around the pin - again the sensation of "leaning into the rigger" without actually doing so. This crew, the 1998 William & Mary Women's Varsity (Sportgraphics photo) is "opening around the pin" in the middle of the stroke.
This remains true as the legs go flat. The crew in this photo (by Sportgraphics photo on the Rowers' World site) is not one that I had a hand in coaching, but rather for which I coxed: the Nottinghamshire County Men's Second Eight at the 1990 Head of the Charles (we came second in the Championship Eight division).
This weight must remain suspended in the fingers as the legs finish and the bodies lay back, here modeled by the 1999 William & Mary Men's Second Varsity (Christie Davis photo - our 3V coxswain out in the launch with me one early morning). The same crew, rowing with square blades, also demonstrates later that morning how the body can ride forward on the recovery and come around to the catch (notice the port/starboard split) without upsetting the balance.
There is a lot more to say about all of these photos, but I will leave that analysis to another day and another reader.
