A long time ago, I stopped feeling surprised when Coach blamed things on me. Coxswains, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If something goes wrong, regardless of what it is, you’re getting yelled at. I’ve never found another youth leadership role that involves taking the blame for everything that happens.

So thank goodness I found the one that does.

When I was in high school, I complained about this. If I got yelled at for failing to bring a watch on the water, fine – my bad. But if the weather turned, or a piece popped off the boat into the water, or a single sculler rowed right into me while I was sitting at attention for a 2k, I still got yelled at. I hated it. It wasn’t fair! After all, those events were not “my fault.”

Here’s the thing, though. Despite the fact that I didn’t want to be blamed for the things that weren’t my fault, I wanted my coach to let me be in charge of my boat. I wanted to keep the fun, independent part of leadership and dispose of the downside. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.

In many of today’s leadership roles, people sort of do that. When things go wrong in an organization, it’s socially acceptable for the leader to point out when the problem was not his or her fault. This is a huge problem. The social acceptability of focusing on blame produces weak leaders who fail to solve problems.

I realized in college that, when I was in charge of a boat, everything that happened in that boat became my responsibility. The equipment, the people, the mission – everything. Responsibility is not the same as fault. Responsibility acknowledges that, even if I do not have complete control over what happens in my boat, it is my boat, and my job is to take care of it. The equipment, the people, the mission – everything. If, somehow, those things are not taken care of, it’s still my boat. I don’t get to push it away like an uneaten plate of soggy peas.

Let’s look at a coaching example to illustrate the point.

Suppose your crew arrives at a regatta site and begins unloading the trailer. A toddler of one of the team parents starts wandering around among the rowers. Your head coach is walking among the boats, carrying a large, black tub full of heavy wrenches and other tools. Your coach can’t see the ground below the tub, so he doesn’t see the toddler run right in front of him. He trips over the toddler and falls forward, crashing right into the middle of his newest, nicest 8+. Coach, tub, boat, and slings all tip over and fall to the ground, and the boat ends up bent in the center, with several cracks and gaping holes. Nine kids needed that boat to race, and unless something gets done, they don’t get to race anymore.

How much would you respect your coach for gathering everyone up and making a point of how the accident was not his fault? You wouldn’t. The exercise wastes a bunch of time that could be spent fixing the boat or trying to find a replacement, and it doesn’t change the fact that, unless the situation gets fixed, the coach has failed to execute his greater mission – to get all of his rowers on the water and racing. Nine rowers are sad and race-less, regardless of whose “fault” it is. If coaches cannot try to escape blame without looking like weak leaders, why should coxswains be able to do it? Exactly. They shouldn’t.

I am the coxswain. It is my responsibility to give my rowers the greatest possible opportunity to win their race. My rowers and coach have to place their trust in me to uphold that responsibility. If, for whatever reason, they don’t get that opportunity, I better try to fix it and prevent it from ever happening again.

After all, leadership is not about blame – it’s about the people you serve. I serve my rowers. If they don’t get what they need – the greatest possible opportunity to win their race – then that hurts me, regardless of whose fault it is, because I have to see them disappointed. Blame isn’t even a part of it. I want to fulfill my responsibility because I want the boat to succeed.

This lesson makes you an exceptional leader in your non-coxing life because most leaders don’t understand the difference between fault and responsibility. While they should be in the trenches fixing the problem, they’re making a spectacle of themselves to convince the world that it’s not their fault – and the mission still fails. These leaders’ skills at accepting responsibility are weak. Luckily for you, coxing has strengthened your ability to do this. You can step forward, accept responsibility, and figure out how to make things better. Regardless of whose fault it was, people notice when you do this.

So if a shoe comes off a foot stretcher mid-practice and your coach starts yelling at you, recognize that he is lamenting the failure of the mission – to execute this practice and make the boat faster. That’s your mission. So rather than whine that it’s not your fault, salvage the mission. Get out your electrical tape and MacGyver a solution. If electrical tape doesn’t work, add a roll of duct tape to your arsenal for next time.

Also, let coach yell at you. You are the leader; you can get yelled at without losing your cool. Maybe that rower can’t. And that’s not your fault either – but if that rower gets flustered and cannot row well for the rest of practice, then again the mission has failed. So, to save the mission, you take the beating. Sometimes when I couldn’t justify coach yelling at me, even with the responsibility argument, I’d tell myself this. Regardless of whether this was true, it helped me get over my anger and carry on. So feel free to use this emergency psychological solution when you need it.

-Chelsea

Subscribe to Chelsea’s blog: coachingthecox.com

Follow Chelsea on Twitter: coachingthecox

Inspirational Quotes for Coxswains:

#1: “It may not be my fault, but it is my responsibility” – Donovan Campbell, United States Marine Corps

#2: “Don’t find fault. Find a remedy.” – Henry Ford, founder of the Ford Motor Company

“I am the coxswain.”

Some coxswains dread explaining this to their friends outside of crew. They know that they’ll have to defend their non-rowing role on a rowing team.

Sometimes, that defense is hard to muster. Not all rowers – not even all coaches – value the coxswain’s role on a rowing team, and coxswains face an existential crisis when no one around them validates their position.

I mean, the job looks awfully easy. Coxing a boat is not physically challenging. We sit on seats, steer, and yell. It’s not exactly exercise. Coxing doesn’t make us athletes. So what does it make us?

“The boss.” That’s what coaches tell us when they’re trying to recruit new coxswains. “Leaders. You’ll be the leaders of your teams.”

It sounds great. We get to be the decision-makers; we get to call the shots.

Then prospective coxswains join the team, and many of them leave again. What happened? Didn’t they like calling the shots?

For the coxswains that don’t quit, we adopt the same lines that our coaches used on us. We use them when we’re applying to college. We use them when we apply to jobs. “I am the coxswain, so I have leadership skills.” What does that even mean?

If an interviewer asks us that question, we talk about calling the shots. But if we really believed in this answer, would we still dread explaining the coxswain role to the skeptics? Because…we do. So clearly, shot calling does not make us special.

Guys, we can do better than this.

No one wants to hear these clichés about leadership. Not you, not your parents, not the college admissions counselors, and not your prospective employers. Who cares?

Of any leadership role I have had so far in my life, coxing was by far the hardest. Coxing smacked me in the face, every day, with the ugly side of leadership. That’s why so many coxswains quit. The coxswains who dominate, though – the coxswains who stick it out and become amazing – understand a few things that other coxswain’s just don’t get.

I want to dig into that now.

I used to use the standard narrative: “I am the coxswain. I call the shots.”

Weak.

After years of searching, I found a better coxswain identity – one that I don’t need anyone else to validate for me. It goes something like this:

“I am the coxswain. I understand the difference between fault and responsibility. I know how to admit my mistakes honestly and nobly. I know how to ask for help. I know how to self-evaluate. I know how to accept criticism. I know how to give criticism without sandwiching it between two false compliments and without making the other person feel like a crumb of dirt.”

When you understand how to do those things, you can out-cox the majority of coxswains who never get past the technical parts of coxing. You become self-sufficient, independent, and tough.

I want to tell the stories that brought me to that coxswain identity. Some of the stories embarrass me. I want to tell them anyway. So, over the next few articles, I’ll be doing just that. I’ll write one article about the difference between fault and responsibility. I’ll write another about admitting mistakes. These won’t be the step-by-step how-to’s on coxing and coaching that you normally see from me at coachingthecox.com. I want to try something new.

Because I think it would be great if coxswains could take some pride in saying “I am the coxswain.” Once I realized all the skills I had taken from coxing, I certainly did.

-Chelsea

Subscribe to Chelsea’s coxswain-coaching blog: coachingthecox.com

Follow Chelsea on Twitter: coachingthecox

Last week I received an amazing email from a sophomore in college asking for some help.  I chose to answer this reader submitted question first, because it really pertains to so many coxswains out there making the transition from one level to the next.  The general call of the questions is:

“What is throwing me off, I think, is I can feel the rowers comparing me to the better coxswains they have been able to work with this year.  They question the small decisions I make and I get a lot of comments in the boat.  I know I shouldn’t let that happen, but right now I feel like they know more than I do.  I feel lacking in every angle of the job, and now my confidence has essentially taken a huge blow.  I get really flustered when it comes to handling situations I’ve never been in before on the water, and I know as a cox I’m supposed to fake it ’till I make it, but it’s just not meshing right now.  What can I do to help my decision making?  Are there any specific resources I can look at to help me with making technical calls during steady state pieces?” -Andrea

Now the mistake that Andrea is making is not the little things that should be perfect but are not.  It is the fact that she is assuming that she is not able to make mistakes or has to ‘fake it till she makes it.’  Quite the opposite is true.  The thing is that generally, rowers know more about rowing then most coxswains.  Most coxswains do not even know how to row or have never done it.  Most do not erg or will ever be able to pull the fastest score on the squad.  And even those that row, do not do it nearly as much as the rowers in their boat, so they therefore have less experience.  So do not feel like they know more then you do…know that they do and accept it.  This should be done both internally and externally.  By what you think and what you do.

“But Marcus, this means that they will not think I am confident.”  No Andrea, it will show that you are confident and will also allow you to better connect with them as athletes so that they can help make you better instead of just getting frustrated.  Let me give you an example. When I first joined the National Team at the Olympic Training Center, I was only three months out of college and had only been to one World Championships in a JV boat.  I was now in the mix with multiple National Teamers and Olympians who have been crushing it for over a decade.  Did they know more than me?  Heck yeah.  More experience?  Of course.  What I did was openly accept that they were more talented and qualified and I informed them of that.  I even specifically sought out athletes and told them what I thought and that I needed their help.  That I was open to any and all comments and criticisms and that if they think of anything that might help me improve then please let me know.  And you know what, they did.  It was not all easy to swallow but they gave me a lot of feedback and I kept a record of it all.  Then I started to improve…a lot!  The more open I was and the more I improved the more the athletes started to respect me and trust me and they opened up even more and became even still more helpful.  The little mistakes from time to time were not so important as they were becoming less often and the guy recognized this.  And when I made a mistake, I owned it right away.  Not, “my bad.”  But an actual, “I apologize for doing that guys, it will be better next time.”

My ability to be mature and recognize that I was not as talented (or experienced) as these guys showed a great amount of confidence in who I was and my ability as a cox.  I am terrible at playing soccer but it does not disturb my confidence when I am playing with the guys and gals at the California Rowing Club.  Quite the opposite, my recognizing my skill level (or rather lack of it) is in itself a form of confidence.  I am not embarrassed, I know my level and can therefore work to improve knowing exactly what I need to do to get better.  As for connecting with the other athletes, I think my example speaks for itself.  And I was not the top coxswain; I was the bottom ranked guy on the team.  Yet people worked with me and were very helpful in making me improve.  They recognized that even though I might not be as good as them, that I was still in a boat with them.  That it would be in their best interest to help me improve so the whole boat could do as well as it possibly could.

So to answer your specific questions…You want to make better decisions?  Ask your rowers how they would do it or how would they like it done.  Are there any specific resources?  Yes, you rowers and coaches.  Ask them, openly and honestly how they would like you do do just about anything.  And not just, “Am I getting better?”  (Covered in a previous post) But a specific question on the who, what, when, where and how to do something different or better.  We are often to shy or embarrassed to ask these hard questions because we do not want to get criticized.  But if you want to succeed you must ask these questions and make the changes.  So check your ego, recognize your athletes and get faster!  You will thank me for it later.

Thanks for the question, Andrea.  If any of you have any other questions please email us at marcus@sparksconsult.com or twitter @USOlympicCox.  Thanks for reading and go fast.

-Marcus

(The entire email question and circumstances are posted below.  Name was changed and a few details have been omitted to protect the privacy of the poster.)

[Hello, Marcus!

I just found this blog and I can already say that just reading it has helped me out.  My name is Andrea, I am a sophomore in college, and I am currently at the end of my first year on my varsity rowing team.  I was on novice last year, and I felt pretty confident about how I was doing by the time we turned in for the summer.

Because this was just my first year on varsity, I am at the bottom of the ladder when it comes to coxing abilities.  I started off feeling pretty confident about coxing in the fall.  I raced fours, however, our team took a really long indoor stretch this spring.

My first time back on the water was this past week, and I ended up clashing oars with another boat when we were doing pieces on the water.  Another practice, the wind was blowing our boats across stream so I tried to correct my point as quickly as I could but I couldn't do it fast enough.  Because I don't have as much experience as the other coxswains I do not get boated as often.  So I am not improving and I feel like I'm going through a really bad rough patch

What is throwing me off, I think, is I can feel the rowers comparing me to the better coxswains they have been able to work with this year.  They question the small decisions I make and I get a lot of comments in the boat.  I know I shouldn't let that happen, but right now I feel like they know more than I do.  I feel lacking in every angle of the job, and now my confidence has essentially taken a huge blow.  I get really flustered when it comes to handling situations I've never been in before on the water, and I know as a cox I'm supposed to fake it 'till I make it, but it's just not meshing right now.

We're currently seat racing to determine line ups for Champs, and though I know I probably won't be racing in it this year, I want to get my mojo back at practices so I can feel confident going into next year.  What can I do to help my decision making?  Are there any specific resources I can look at to help me with making technical calls during steady state pieces?  The confidence aspect is going to come with time, but I need to jump start my coxing.

I know this was a long email, and I apologize, but I really need to find a way to fix what I'm going through and I thought that this might help.  Thank you for your time!  -Andrea]

It’s been a pleasure to have Chelsea write for us and we hope to have more guest posts.  If you’re interested or have specific questions that you’d like to see answered, get in touch.  Below are some comments from Marcus on the two earlier posts, illustrating that there’s more than one way to do things.  Enjoy!

Steering article:

-While I like what you explain, there leaves room for one major mistake if using a non-buoy course.  In the event of a side wind, a coxswain might be able to hold their point and yet be swept across sweeping the stern out and actually shift over a few lanes all the while their bow is pointed at the exact same spot.  That is a major problem with coaches when they tell coxswains just to stay on their points and the coxswains do, but they shot over and the coaches notice and then yell and the coxswains get confused.  So I would like to see something about not only sticking ones point in front of them, but also be spatially aware of what is next to them at the same time even without buoys.  Make sense?  Additionally I always like to add that what works for one boat or coxswain does not always work for another when it comes to steering.  I prefer the point down the course method and use my stroke mans head an both the catch and finish while also being aware of what is on either side of me.  It is more complicated but also more accurate.  I would hate to tell a coxswain that anything that we suggest is the only way or necessarily the best  way.  But more a different way and that they have to figure out what works for them best.

Stress Management Piece:

Very different then how I prepare, but I like it and how you did it.  Generally it sounds like something that is perfect for high school coxswains.  It forces them to be organized in a way that many are not and even says that there are other options, but that this one is an example of how one works.  I would not change it and think it would be best as a singular entry.  It is not too long and reads pretty easily.  I agree with Jon’s concerns about normally have a warm up and race plan earlier then three days out, for us!  But for most high school and college coxswains, they are lucky to even know what their final line up will be three days out let alone a week or two.  So I think it is fitting, will work well and they will understand it.

Boats race well when the rowers are calm and focused. We know this, but how do we act on it to prepare for a fast race? As a coxswain, you aren’t just managing your own, personal stress; you also set the tone for the four or eight people in your boat. Your confidence reassures them; your nervousness makes them frantic. So you have to feel calm and confident on race day. There is one way to guarantee this feeling: over-preparing for race day.

Sure, maybe there’s no such thing as over-preparing, but when you show up more prepared than all the other coxswains, you’ll feel calm and confident all the way to the line. Moreover, your rowers will have confidence in you because they’ll look around and see that, of all these coxswains, theirs is obviously the pro.

People have different ways of preparing. This was my way.

Ingredients:
9 index cards (for an eight)
1 pen
1 coach
running shoes
a pump-up playlist

3 days before the race:
I arranged a meeting with my coach to confirm the warmup for my race as well as my race plan (the earlier you can do this, the better, but three days is realistic for most high school and college crews). I did this three days before so that, in the days leading up to the race, my crew and I could practice the warmup and moves that we would use on race day.

During this meeting, I would take out my first note card. This would be my note card. I held the card horizontally, lines-side-up, and wrote the pre-race warmup on the right edge of the card. Then I turned it over and held it vertically, blank-side-up, and wrote the basic race plan down the left edge of the card.

1 day before the race
On this day, we were usually on the site of the race course. I needed to find out three things:

Where the bathrooms were
Where we would put the oars before we raced, and whether I would need to transport them to the dock right before we launched
Whether Coach wanted to meet with my boat right before we launched the next day

After practice, I would take out my note card and use the left edge to write down any logistics I needed to know: when my boat needed to be on the bus to the race course, which shell I needed to use, what time I would need to get my oars to the launch dock, what my lane number was, what time I would race, what time I would launch (40 minutes before race time, usually), and what time I needed the rowers to get hands on (15 minutes before launch time, usually). I needed to see the course first so I could figure out whether I would need to move the oars, and if so, how much time I would need to move them. I also wrote down a reminder to have spray-on sunscreen available for the rowers at the boat meeting.

Then I took out the other eight cards: one for each rower. I wrote each rower’s name and seat across the top of a card. Then I wrote three things on the card:

What time they needed to start their on-land warmup, and what they would do for the on-land warmup
The latest time that they could use the bathroom (5 minutes before meeting time if the bathrooms were close and plentiful, or 10-15 if they were far away or there were only 2 stalls).
What time they needed to meet at the boat (15 minutes before launch if the coach didn’t want to talk to us beforehand; 20 minutes if he did).

This was all they needed to know for race day. It was my job to take care of the rest.

On Race Day:
On the way to the course, or when all of the rowers had finished their previous races and were preparing for our race, I handed out their note cards. Once they received their cards, they were in “the cage”: this meant that they could not talk to anyone except other rowers in their boat, me, or our coach. This sounds silly, but the rowers felt more able to focus when they weren’t chit-chatting with the quad or fielding their mothers’ incessant questions about sunscreen. That card would answer all the questions they really needed answered, which left me free to prepare myself mentally for our race.

I left for a run as the rowers started their on-land warmup. My pump-up playlist had four things on it: a race tape from a coxswain I admired, one of my own race tapes of which I was especially proud, and two songs that made me feel invincible. I came back just as the rowers were going to use the bathroom for the last time so I could check the riggers, seats, and cox box one before our boat meeting. I felt calm and prepared, and that reassured the rowers.

Then we met, launched, and warmed up according to plan. We went into our races ready, rather than frantic.

Not every rower and coxswain will prefer this method; it’s just a highly specific example of something that worked for some of the boats I coxed.

There is one last piece: after the race, no matter how it went, we did not, did not, did not talk about the race until our coach was present. If the race had gone badly, I would signal my coach when we landed that we should wait a little while to talk about it. She would make herself scarce while we derigged, and we would meet after everyone had walked it off a little. Coach ensured that the postmortem was productive: she asked us specific questions about the race execution from start to finish. We didn’t have to fight or scream at each other; all we had to do was answer the questions. She would then assign 2-3 things for us to work on for next race. I wrote these down in a notebook, taped my index card into the notebook under these notes, and used our action items from the postmortem in every practice leading up to the next race.

-Chelsea

Subscribe to Chelsea’s coxswain-coaching blog: coachingthecox.com

Hi all,

Before we start, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chelsea Dommert. I’m a coxswain and coach, and I’m excited to join the Sparks team to help give coxswains the tools for success that they can’t find anywhere else. I write about coaching coxswains at coachingthecox.com; you can read more from me there.

Now, let’s get started.  This is a method I have used for steering stern-coxed boats down buoyed lanes and in spaces with poor or nonexistent landmarks to use as points.

Coxswains steer straight by using a point: an object directly ahead of the boat that you aim at to keep the boat going in a straight line. In theory, this strategy works.

There is a problem, though: The eight is a stern-coxed boat. You sit behind a line of eight six-foot-tall rowers, and you cannot see what is directly ahead of you. Your point has to be big enough or high enough to see around the line of rowers. This narrows the options to tall, standalone trees and buildings. Often, there just aren’t a lot of points like that.

So, as a coxswain, you have two options: pick something as your point, aim at that thing by putting it behind your rowers (where you cannot see it), and remember that, if you can see your point, you are not pointed correctly.

This is not ideal because you cannot tell when you are about to lose your point. On a point that you can see, you notice when you start to drift away from it before you have actually lost your point. You can’t do that with this mediocre method, so you have to use more drastic steering in exchange for noticing the drift later. In a regular practice, this might not matter. In a tight 2k race, though, it’s not worth it.

There’s a better option. Aim at something, but do not aim at it with your bowball. Instead of putting your target in your blind spot, aim at your target with your bow seat’s blade. Every time your bow seat catches (he has to be at the same part of the stroke each time you check your target, and the catch is an easy part to use), you check that your target is still right in front of, above, or to the side of your bow seat’s blade.

Targets in this area do not fall in your blind spot, so you can aim for smaller targets, increasing your choice of targets on the horizon. Also, because the bow seat’s blade is at the edge of the boat and not the middle, you can steer by gauging your distance from stationary objects along the sides of the boat as well as out front.

For example, you can use a buoy line to steer down a course. Sprint race courses are not known for their plethora of objects to use as points in an eight, but the buoy lines are relatively straight. You can steer a straight line by keeping bow seat’s blade the same distance from the buoy line on his side all the way down the course. Added bonuses: you can simultaneously watch your steering and your competition without glancing back and forth, and since you’re not watching the other buoy line as much, you don’t get worried about the narrowness of the lane.

You’re still pointing at things; you’re just not trying to shove targets into your blind spot.

-Chelsea

Subscribe to Chelsea’s coxswain-coaching blog: coachingthecox.com

Follow Chelsea on Twitter: coachingthecox

As well all know, coxswains never get coached.  Even those coaches who think they are ‘coaching’ us are really just yelling at us and telling us what not to do.  Rowers on the other hand are fortunate enough to get told what to do.  So how are we supposed to get better?  The trick is to ask the right questions in order to figure out what to do as opposed to what not to do.

Now this is a little easier said than done.  Most of us simply ask our rowers and coaches…”what do you want me to do?”  Then the rowers and or coaches spew something out that is neither intelligible nor helpful.  What we as coxswains have to realize, is that it is not their fault.  Almost all rowers and coaches have never been in a coxswain seat.  They have never done what you are trying to do and simply cannot explain it.  Though I have only met a handful of folks honest enough to admit to that.  Instead they think they are being helpful and describe things in terms of a rower and hope that we figure it out.  What ends up happening is that we all get frustrated.  The rowers think we did not listen to them, and we get frustrated because we know that we have not actually improved.

So now how do we fix this problem?  Ask questions.  But we need to be careful as to ask questions in a way that we can get the useful information out of our rowers and coaches.  In order to do this…we need to be illustrative.  Let us take a specific example of working on a tight turn on a particular course.  Do we ask…was my course better, how do you want me to take the turn?  No.  Why not?  Because it really is not helpful in terms of telling us what is the best way to actually take the turn.  Instead I like to give my guys a heads up.  “Okay guys, we will be working on this turn today and I will ask you your feedback after we have run through it a few times.”  Now they are prepped for it and aware of what I am trying to do.  The first time I take the turn I stay real close to the arch and then jam on the rudder after coming clear of the abutment.  The second time I take the turn I stay a little bit out on my approach and still use the rudder aggressively after coming out the back side, but less so.  The final time, I stay a bit wide and make a gradual turn…easy on the rudder and come on the back end without going wide at all.  Now, one would assume that I just ask…”which did you like best?”  Right?  No.  Instead I actually ask them how each one felt.  What did the drag on the boat feel like during each turn?  Did the rudder disrupt the set too much on the first, second or third?  Did it feel like we bellied out too much before or after on each turn?

The questions we can ask are limitless.  But they are specific and they are giving us a lot of data so we can then work on and improve our courses.  The thing is, each turn, on every course, every day, is going to be slightly different.  We have to factor in wind conditions, currents, other boats, differences in power applications, etc.  So we need to know the data on how our athletes respond and feel what is going on in the boat to make sure we are addressing the needs of the boat and improving.

So now I challenge you with two things.  First, next time you are working on anything at all…see if you can ask your coaches and athletes specific questions in order to get the information that you need to help you get better.  Not just the general ones, but actual helpful ones.  Secondly, please email us with your coxswain questions and we would be glad to answer them.  We all have different issues we need to address and we love to help out the coxswain community.  So please email us at marcus@sparksconsult.com and keep your eye on this blog for the answer.

-Marcus

Follow Marcus on Twitter at: USOlympicCox

Last week I was asked to volunteer driving launches for Oakland Strokes at a regatta they were throwing. Heck yeah I wanna do that. The best part of it was when someone said to me, “You’re an Olympic medalist, isn’t this a little bellow you?!” I could not help laugh at the quasi back handed compliment. Then I simply pointed out that the person running the finish line was two time Olympic Champion Kay Worthington, and half of the other volunteers were former National Team members and DI rowers for Cal.

What I loved about this event is that is reminded me about how so many people reach the highest level of our sport and why they have had so much success. The best people in our sport, and coxswains in particular, keep moving up by taking advantage of every single opportunity offered to them. My whole entire career has been shaped by this. When I was in high school, I filled in for other coxswains when I knew I was not going to get the boat for the big race. I ended up learning a ton and had a great time doing it because there was no pressure to perform. So I got along well with the athletes and this in turn helped me learn even more. Especially because they thought I was doing them a favor and they wanted to return it. Well they did.

This followed me into my college rowing career. As a frosh I was asked to help out the varsity knowing that I would not get the varsity boat or the freshmen boat. But I wanted to be in an environment where I would get the benefits of all the experience of the older guys. I did not race my freshmen fall, but it paid off and almost by accident I made the varsity 8 for spring season. My goal was just to learn as much as I could, I was not even worried or trying to get the top boat. And because of that I was able to surpass the current varsity coxswains.

A few months later, while working as a lifeguard on the Jersey shore, I get a call because the US team just needed a coxswain to fill out a boat for a few days. It was supposed to be a long weekend. It turned into a couple of weeks and again I learned so much. There was no chance of making a boat, but I did not care. I just wanted to fill in, take advantage of the opportunity and learn. The athletes and coaches were super helpful and believe me, I was terrible at that time. But they worked with me because they knew I was just there to help them out and learn. It was a great few weeks and at the end I thought my days with the national team were over.

About six weeks later, I get a call from the National Team coach with another opportunity. “Would I be willing to take some time out of my sophomore fall season to race the US eight at the Head of the Ohio?” Duh, next question…YES! We beat the Canadians by a bow ball and my fate with the National Team was sealed.

What does this mean for the average coxswain? Whenever you get the opportunity to get into a boat and cox…do it! If you get a chance to just hang out with super seasoned rowers…do it! If someone offers you the chance to ‘volunteer’ at a regatta…do it! You really never know how much you are going to learn. You have no idea who you might encounter and how they will help you improve and get better. You will see me trying to get into every boat humanly possible at the Crew Classic this April. I hope to see you there doing the same!

-Marcus

Follow Marcus on Twitter @USOlympicCox

Since a decent number of us spend our winters indoors, it is crucial that those of us that get time on the water make the most of it.  Much of this post will tie in to Marcus’ most recent post but so much of this is crucial to our development that some of it is worth repeating.

I was recently in Chula Vista, CA for the USRowing Men’s January camp and after spending the past few months off the water, I was extremely eager to cox.  Even though I couldn’t wait to show the guys how sharp my coxing was, the most valuable thing for me to do in terms of my development was to say as little as possible, focus on my steering (which is always a good excuse to be quiet for a few strokes!), observe what was going on in the boat, and listen to both the coach and the rowers.  With a mix of new and returning athletes from the last quadrennium, it was extremely important for me to pick up on individual rowers tendencies and preferences in terms of calls.  There is no way to do this effectively when your mouth is running at a hundred words a minute.  Another side of this camp that further required me to keep my mouth shut was the addition of a new head men’s coach whom I have never worked with before.  The last thing you want to do as a coxswain is say or do something that to you seems routine but could potentially be a coach’s pet peeve.

So now that I’ve reiterated the importance of observation and listening versus blabbing away when you get back on the water, let’s address the camp side of things.  Some of you may have just had or will be taking a trip south for a training camp in the near future.  Although camps are somewhat business as usual, there are certain things to understand about camps that are completely different from the normal everyday grind.  The first (and most obvious) element is that your rowers are swapping erg handles for oar handles.  BIG difference!  I know it’s called a rowing machine but let’s face it, it’s a fitness machine and should be treated as such.  Although form and technique are very important on the erg, nobody actually gets better at rowing by spending time on that thing.  As such, you should expect your rowers to be a little rusty during the first few days of camp and should recognize that regaining rowing technique is a process that could take the entirety of the camp (or longer) to reestablish.

The next thing to take into consideration is the increase in volume.  Typically, in a camp setting, you will be spending more hours on the water or exercising than you have been during winter training.  Because of this, it is extremely important to stress the quality of the workouts as you make your way through camp and the rowers begin to fatigue more rapidly.  Another thing to be aware of is how the extra volume is affecting YOU in the coxswain seat.  Rowers aren’t the only ones affected by the increase in number of hours spent on the water and training.  Personally, I try to find time (of which there is usually plenty outside of scheduled practices) to exercise or do something to clear my head between sessions.  There is a lot going on and a lot to process during camp so finding a way to hit the reset button between sessions is vital.

The last thing I want to address about coxing in a camp setting is the importance of efficiency (which is just as important for any practice during camp or not).  As I just mentioned, you will typically have a decent increase in volume and the best way to prevent the athletes from fatiguing even more than usual is to make sure that you are extremely efficient during practices.  This doesn’t mean that you need to have your athletes rowing as efficiently as possible (although that certainly is the end goal) but more that when you are down at practice, you need to make sure everything is running like clockwork.  There is a term we throw around on the national team called DAF (which stands for “something” around factor) and the goal is to always keep this as low as possible.  This means that you need to be very proactive in readying your crew for practice, from making adjustments before you launch to spinning and getting lined up promptly to landing and getting the boat cleaned and put away quickly.  A very important aspect of this is communicating across boats to the other coxswains to make sure everyone is on the same page and setting the standard for how long it should take to get lined up and be ready to row.

These are the most important things I constantly remind myself of when coxing in a camp environment.  Keeping the mindset that from the time you show up to practice to the time you get back from practice is all business will help ensure that neither you nor your rowers are wasting any of the little time you actually get to spend on the water during the winter season.  Many of these practices can and should be carried over to everyday practices as well and winter camp is a very useful tool to ingrain these practices and set the tone for the spring season.  Good luck and be a game changer in the coxswain seat!

Unlike rowers who get to work out, stay in shape, and tweak their skills on ergs and tanks, coxswains really do not get a chance to improve over the winter.  But worse than that, they actually can suffer from a little coxswain atrophy.  And no matter how good you are, months or even weeks off the water will soften your skill set.

I was recently asked a question which I often get this time of year.  “What is the best way to get back into the swing of things as quickly as possible after spending so much time off the water?”  The answer is fairly simple…shut up.  No seriously, stop talking.

Now I say this a lot to my coxswains and they never believe that I am serious, but after a while…they realize I am.  Why?  Well, if you are like most coxswains, as soon as you jump into a boat for the first time after a long break you try to do too much or everything at once.  Most coxswains then muddle through a bunch of practices where they are ineffective and actually doing damage to their reps.  They are missing calls, not seeing things, rushing, steering poorly, etc.  This is compounded by the fact that they feel as if they have to establish their dominance immediately over the rowers and other coxswains.  Essentially they are doing too much, too fast, and all at once.

Now that we are aware that we will either be rusty, or messy, we can prepare for handling it and how to improve.  This is where we quiet down.  From the moment we walk into the boathouse until we leave after the row.  By being quiet we can pay attention more closely to the things going on around us.  We will be able to focus in on what the coaches are saying and the athletes are doing.  We ‘warm up’ by raising our general awareness so that we can perform better on the water.  Then before we even call the athletes to lay hands on the boat, we mentally go through what we are going to say and how we are going to say it.  Better safe than sorry.  Then once we hit the water, we continue with our silence as much as possible.  And how ever much we are talking, it is still probably too much.

But again, why?  We are on the water, should we not strut our stuff?  Nope, not yet.  Again we want to be quiet, so we can focus on our steering.  By being quiet, we can focus on how the boat is handling and how we are making adjustments.  Having been quiet, we will also be more aware of the effect of the currents, winds, and athletes on the boat and on our steering.  We are getting back to the basics and mastering them again.  Because we are taking such a compartmental approach, we will be improving our skill set at a rapid rate to get us back to where we were before the end of last season.  We also will not be making other mistakes, because we cannot muddle an unnecessary call if it is not needed in the first place and we are being quiet and simply don’t say it.  By remaining silent, we actually killed two birds with one stone.  Then once we get comfortable with our steering, we can focus on the technique and rowers.  After that we then start working on our calls.  Because no coxswains should be criticizing rowers and making calls unless they have their steering down and an eye for good rowing.

If you ever spoke to me about coxing before, the answer boils down to the same thing…less is more.  So as the ice thaws and we start hitting the water again, don’t be afraid to quiet down a bit and focus on you.  You will see some fast improvements.   Good luck and steer straight!

-Marcus

(Follow Marcus on twitter @USOlympicCox)