From the freespiritsrowing.com forum:

I have been meaning to write about BIRC from my point of view. Here goes...

For me it started at Stansted airport, picking up a tired looking, but taller than expected Petr. He'd been travelling for 18 hours non-stop by this time. Took him home and weighed him in at 75.3(?)kg. Both a bit worried but Petr just stopped eating and drinking at this point - with hindsight not a good plan.

2 hours later, MaxDev arrived, the kids were dropped off and we headed to Birmingham. Found the hotel and parking really easy and set off for the restaurant. The restaurant was actually 150m from the hotel but we took the long long way round (3 sides of an oblong including the two long ones!!). The hotel was very dinky, much like the cabin on a ship.

Classic, funny, hysterical night out. My voice completely shot really by this point and I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be able row well the next day. Felt terrible for Petr who after the earlier weigh in ate 12 pieces of lettuce, a slice of ham and a glass of water whilst we all tucked in heartily. I missed all the fun at the top of the table where the big boys were tucking in to two dinners. It was a very funny evening and I was in great spirits. Great to meet new team mates and wives. Inspiring to meet Mark who used to be six stone heavier and would go so well the next day against very tough opposition.

The night broken by idiotic people at 4am (one of whom had a 20 minute phone conversation outside our door) and my mobile phone alarm going off an hour early because I had not changed the time on it .

The day dawns. Set off with Petr and decide to drive in the lashing rain, despite it being 5 minutes away. I also didn't fancy a walk back at the end of a tiring day.

Very worried about Petr's weigh in but he came in at 74.6(?)kg and turns on me with the ravenous glint of someone who has travelled for 22 hours out of 36, with no food and water, and has been woken at 4am and says "Your scales!!!". I genuinely thought he was going to eat me at this point. (Or thump me).

We then headed for the Free Spirits seats (where the c2 forum teams appear to congregate too) - right in front of the podium. Others arrived bit by bit and we got told off for standing in the isles... That is one problem with the officiating at BIRC - they are paranoid about people standing in the wrong place...

My day is then a blur of snatched chats and attempting to film people. Strong memories of screaming (with my weak voice) for Mark Evans. No way he heard me. Then Mike Channin and Tanya turned up. Great joy all round. Mike disappeared at some point and Tanya pointed out he was helping Petr who had pretty much collapsed after his race. I charged over and arrived in time to help call the doctor over to Petr who was being graphically unwell at this point. Petr was stretchered off to a medical room where he continued to be unwell. Poor thing. Dehydration taking its toll. I was mortified. After rinsing off Petr's clothes I snatched a warm up. Next to Nik Fleming Good chat with his training partner Chris at one point.

Whizzed back to watch bangers attempt at the Word record. He was disappointed not to get it but the times he pulls as a 70 year old lightweight are simply astonishing. He would have won the 70-74 HWT and the 65-69 HWT easily (funnily enough not the 65-69 LWT - LWTs are pretty competitive!).

My race was interesting... I made no concession to the virus that had been affecting me and attempted to do a 6:40 (1:40 split). I was strangely not nervous, probably because I knew that I had had a terrible build up and a virus. I therefore had a shocking start. I felt weak right off the gun and rather than fighting to keep the rate down I was fighting to stay on pace. The aim was 1:41 for 800m then 1:40 at 800m. I tried to accelerate at 800m but had nothing. My race replay shows clearly that my stroke rate went up (I was trying!) but the split was unchanged. I dug in on 1:41 but at 1,100m I could feel my lungs tightening and knew that the game was up. I backed off to a "hard but comfortable" split of 1:47 saving myself for a last 200m sprint that I knew would be anaerobic. My cox was yelling "come on Tom, don't let it slip" most of the second half but I ignored him, because I don't like being called Tom! If fitter it might have spurred me on!

I was resigned to the inevitable 6:49.2 - my eventual time. I would have been delighted with 6:45 but got nowhere near. If fit, I was going for 6:40 and would have got it.

The rest of the day is also a blur. I took a while to get my lungs back (to be honest they still are not right and I have not sat on an erg since). I was starving and had two lunches. I had a long chat with one of my best friends who is a rowing coach and "never goes to BIRC" - we bumped in to each other. I ate a lot of chocolate (whole large bar of fruit and nut!).

I was chatting with another teacher when I heard banger's name over the speakers. I was delighted to see him get his trophy. Totally deserved. Total respect.

Benton's race was fantastic. I can't help wondering what effect the two false starts had on him. 8 massive strokes lost? He only does about 150 in the race so that must be significant.

Then the long drive home and the weekend eneded back at Stansted airport dropping off Petr for the long bus ride home. He went to bed at 6pm on Sunday and still looked completely exhausted on Monday. Petr = commitment.

I had a FANTASTIC time and loved meeting everyone. There was just not enough time in the day. I would love to have met the Burrells properly and had more time to chat. The meal was excellent for that but I can see that next year there might be some sense in meeting earlier (I'll book the baby-sitters tomorrow!).

What a great club!

The video:



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