Why The Third 500?

Why The Third 500?

The spring and summer racing season for club, college, and international rowing is filled with a schedule of 2000 meter races. For an 8-person crew that race will take about 6 minutes, less for the skilled and the strong, more for those who are less skilled and less strong. Those 2000 meters are separated into four 500 meter segments. Each segment has its own unique characteristics. In the first 500, you’re trying to get a clean start, keep a lid on your nerves, get the boat up to speed and into a beautiful rhythm, and not make any mistakes. You can’t win the race in the first 500, but you can probably lose it there. Stay calm. In the second 500, you can start to feel the work, but your training means you are still feeling OK. All of your fall and winter training means you’re strong and you are not yet deep into oxygen debt.

The third 500 is different. The third 500 is technically no longer than any of the others and it can’t take any longer to complete than the others, but it hurts with greater intensity. There is no relief at the end of the third 500 because the fourth is still waiting for you. The light at the end of the tunnel is so far away you can’t see it. Plus, you’re a rower. Your back would be turned to that metaphorical light if it were even there. If you try to take it easy in the third 500, you are going to lose. Push yourself past all reason, ignore every signal your muscles send to your brain, keep your crew focused and together, and you can separate yourself from your opponents and win. The third 500 is a contract you sign with the sport. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to suck. It will feel long. Make peace with that. Stop caring about the hurt. Sign here.

There is a fourth 500 and it hurts too but with each stroke, the finish line gets closer and you can start to hear the cheering of the crowd. You can literally count the strokes to the finish line and you get a burst of adrenaline and second or third wind. At the end of the fourth, every crew can bring up the stroke rate, dig deep, and sprint. Then it’s over and you can start to recover. There is no such relief in the third 500. Your reward in the midst of the third is that you get to keep doing it.

So, what does this have to do with my blog and cancer treatment? Well, everyone says it’s going to be long. Everyone says it will be hard. Those that have gone through it say it will be and I believe them. I fully expect that there will be days when it feels exhausting, when I will want to give up. I also fully expect that those will be the exact same days when—with much-appreciated support—I dig deep, choose not to give up, and make real progress in eliminating the cancer.

Cancer cells don’t have a brain. They don’t have a heart. They don’t have spirit. They don’t have teammates. They do not love or receive love. They simply grow and spread. I on the other hand have all of those things. And this cancer is being taken out to the third 500 where I have all the experience and advantage and cancer simply doesn’t stand a chance.

 

7 thoughts on “Why The Third 500?

  1. Well said. Your cancer-kicking game is strong. Lots of people behind you in this fight.
    slacks

  2. Lynch, great metaphors. Great imagery. Very uplifting for all of your supporters. I hope too that somewhere in your battles, there arises euphoric moments, the sense of abandon and carelessness and invincibility that are also the part of life and boat racing. – Mac.

  3. I have just relived my collegiate rowing days while reading the blog. Nerves, Fear, Pain, Determination, Elation, Defeat, and Victory. It’s all there. You will be tested in all categories, but as you aptly say at the end you have the experience and ultimately the advantage. You also have your teammates. 38 and = baby!! Time to drop some bombs and row this bitch to the line!

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