Crank It!

One former Olympian who has been in the news a bit lately is former rower James Cracknell. He featured in a cycling record attempt with another Olympian, rower turned cyclist Rebecca Romero. He has also been in the headlines as one of a trio of explorers (including Ben Fogle and another former rower Ed Coode) heading to the South Pole. This was documented in the BBC series On Thin Ice.

If you spend any time watching the former rower, you are instantly hit by what a driven individual he is. He throws himself wholeheartedly into whatever challenge he is undertaking. It has to be said, at the detriment of the rest of his life (usually in a description such as this it would say 'sometimes at the detriment of...' In the case of Mr Cracknell, I have deliberately ommitted the 'sometimes') Maybe this is what makes him such a great champion. After all, we are not all double Olympic champions.

Anyway, whatever you think of him, the reason I am writing about him is that James Cracknell is responsible for one of my favourite snippets from sport, ever. It is only short but sums up the moment fantastically well. It comes from the awesome autobiography of another rowing great, Matthew Pinsent, titled 'A Lifetime in a Race'

This is a great book, which I have read twice. It follows a format is a favourite of mine, the diary of events told through the athletes eyes. From the inside as it were. A real page turner. The final chapter of the book (or epilogue) covers the Athens Olympics of 2004 and Pinsent's quest for a fourth successive Olympic Gold medal. He is part of a coxless four crew (including Cracknell, Coode and Steve Williams) who have devoted at least four years to achieving gold...

Rowing is not a sport I know. Nor is it one I particularly follow but like most inhabitants of the UK, I have been swept up by the passion of Olympic rowing. Following the fortunes of Redgrave, Pinsent and Cracknell over the last few years. I hope Matt doesn't mind if I give you a taster of the book. It may inspire you to give it a read? (NB A bit of background first, in rowing the calls and direction are usually made by just one of the team (historically Redgrave in the team of four but now Steve Williams) the others usually staying silent and concentrating on the rowing.)

Ten twenty eight; the starter goes through the call over and turns on the lights. Staring at the red nothing dominates my thoughts more than the first stroke. Make it quick, make it deep.

I know we had a good start and our position relative to the Canadian's proves it, level if not a little up after ten strokes. 'Length' Steve calls, quiet almost. We get into our cruise, less energy than the start but the foot hasn't come off the gas much, if at all. Still level, maybe up a bit, then definitely up. 'Don't wait!' We had talked about this and made a point of the mistake we had made in Lucerne two months before. We had slowed after two minutes to row alongside the Canadians rather than keep forging ahead. But even though we are trying to get ahead, they are right there, a man down. 750 down and we are not going to drop them, but we are in position A. We had always felt that they put too much into the first half and we needed to be there to punish them in the second.

Halfway, '250 now'; it's a long drawn out effort, meant to last from the halfway mark to the next, a full 250 metres. We move and then stick, then they start coming back. This should be it, it should be easier from here on in.

'Two-fifty now'; another go at moving, they are just ahead, now we have actually lost ground on them. We are getting close to sprinting but not yet all in. Bad news is that we can't seem to shake them from their rythmn, can't get away. Good news, they can't either, it's right in the balance.

Five hundred to go, both boats fly through the last mark locked together. 'Crank it!' It's a different voice, it's James. His favourite call, one we dreamed up in altitude camp, it's the beginning of the charge. Crank encapsulates everything we want here, relentless, increasing power without losing length.

Four hundred, still together, still we can't get ahead enough to feel we are going to win for sure. The grandstands start on the left hand side, the roar begins. Okay, I think to myself, this is all over if we get a decisive move here, get a half-length and it's over. Give it 30 strokes, make them the best, as if everything rested on them and win it right here. I go for more power, more length again and start driving the oar through the water with all I've got. We talked about this before too, let's get everything out, let's empty the tank...

Did they win? You might know the answer already. I suggest you buy the book whatever. A great read and encapsulating from start to finish. I would copy the whole section here but risk getting in trouble with big Matt and I am guessing if we got into a discussion, he could take me...

Cracknell's 'Crank it!' is now locked away in my memory banks. I pull it out whenever I need that little bit more effort. Whether it is on the bike, in the gym or some other sporting endeavour, if I need just that little bit more, I know the ideal phrase to spur me on.

Take care,

Col.

PS I am going to be organising a charity fundraiser for the GT Foundation soon (watch this space) and an autographed copy of Matthew Pinsent's autobiography will be one of the prizes on offer.