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Wednesday 18th February 2004

Early on today Martin announced that I was the key to our victory or defeat in the Boat Race. If I could master my technique and put the power I put on to the ergo into the actual rowing then we would win, if not we might very well lose. I desperately wanted to rise to the challenge and do my best for him and for the rest of the team. And on the first outing of the day things felt like they were going better. It all looks so easy on the telly but rowing efficiency depends on many factors, the most important of which seems to be getting the blade in the water as far behind you as possible and finding the pressure in the water to squeeze against. I felt alert and was keen to achieve this on a regular basis, though to be honest I was still a little confused about what I was meant to be doing.
Toby had to go away in the afternoon to write a column, which meant our major outing of the day was going to take place in the evening and in the dark. We were all nervously looking forward to this experience.
We did go out on the water whilst he was away as well and Martin had been impressed enough by my improvement in the morning to promote me to the 5 seat, which took me out of the frivolous bow into the stern stern with all the big boys (and Jo).
I had mixed feelings about leaving my hobbit friends behind, but psychologically it was good to be given a vote of confidence. Roger had to move back to 3 to give me this opportunity, despite the fact that he is obviously better than me. However, I think the change worked brilliantly as having a good rower in the bow helped make the hobbits less frivolous and putting me in with the men (and Jo) made me feel that I had a serious contribution to make. By now the team spirit was building by the hour and I knew I had a responsibility to overcome my natural lack of coordination and help propel this boat to victory. I felt I had taken a big step forward already.
Toby returned to discover the new arrangement. I made jokes about how I was moving up the boat and snapping at his heels. Would his own place be secure or would I topple him from the coveted 7 seat? There has been an air of friendly competition between us both since the whole Other Boat Race experience began. Some of it is just playing, but there is some truth behind it all as well. As long as ultimately we end up fighting in the same direction this should be a positive thing. In all honesty I do not want to get the seven seat as that would mean I didn't have another bow person in front of me to copy! Though increasingly I am judging my stroke by the movement of the seat of the person in front of me.
The night row was pretty cool, though we were out for quite a long time. I felt I was doing pretty well and Tim seemed pleased with our progress, though the boat is still a bit unbalanced and I'm not sure if something I am doing (or not doing) is contributing to this. At one point when we had stopped Toby suddenly got a bit angry and said that some people behind him were not following the pace as dictated by Jo at the stroke. I wasn't quite sure how he knew this and thought he was probably talking about me. His outburst was a bit inappropriate, coming from one of the non-rowers, and it also accidentally implied that Jo wasn't going fast enought and that Wheelie was ignoring her stroke. I wished I had been back in the bow four as I would loved to have seen the expressions on Emma and Helen's faces. Later Toby admitted that he immediately regretted saying this and in actual fact I thought that although he was talking out of turn, it did have one positive aspect: Toby is passionately keen for us to do well and was mainly just venting his frustration at things not being perfect. Having said that when he later told me that I was rowing out of time (I had got quite seriously out of sync after catching my oar in the water) I shouted at him, "I am aware of that. Fuck off!" At this stage none of the non-rowers really have a right to criticise any of the others as we are all making mistakes.
Aside from this it was a really good outing and we all left the boathouse on a high, Tim having told us we had improved a lot over the day. It was also quite positive that Toby had tested the parameters of what was acceptable comment. More than ever the team seemed to be finding its balance (in all but the literal sense, on the water). Things were feeling very good.
We went back to the hotel and enjoyed another raucous meal. Although there is a lot of pain to contend with this week I have laughed longer and harder than I have for ages. None of the jokes would transcribe very well out of context and again come about as a result of the increasing closeness between this disperate group of people. For example tonight Emma couldn't sleep for laughing at a comment I had made about wanting to bathe Toby like he was my baby. I don't think this image will trouble your rest this evening.
I have talked about the drinking we've done before, though I should probably say that we have not been knocking back ridiculous quantities of booze. It's just that after little sleep and a ludicrous amount of exercise, even a couple of glasses of wine is enough to make one feel fairly pissed. Tonight, believing I had finally cracked this rowing lark I allowed myself to drink a little more than usual and after dinner J Aitken ordered another bottle of wine, which only him and I drank (and to be honest I probably had about three quarters of it). This helped add to the hilarity, but I did not really consider the consequences.
Our entertainment for the evening was to view video messages of support from our celebrity friends as well as some from the rival crew.
I don't really have many celebrity friends and I knew that Stewart, the obvious candidate would not want to take part in the show (for many reasons, mainly similar to my initial worries about taking part myself). It turned out that my only message of support came from Dave Schneider, a man that I like, but have probably only seen twice in the last five years. I pretended to be upset that I was so poorly liked amongst the celebrity set.
Fuelled by drink and our new stupid group sense of humour we jeered and mocked the messages from Cambridge. Stephanie Cook, the extremely personable and meek Christian, apologised for having changed crews at the last minute (she's been to both Universities and was switched by the production team because the Cambridge boat needed another celeb). However, her apology held no water with the passionate Emma Kennedy who yelled at the screen, mouthing obscenities, as if Cook had been in India murdering children, rather than saving them, which is in fact the truth of the situation. I have never seen such fury on a woman's face since watching the old ladies in the audience of the ITV wrestling in the 1970s. Again, the pointless hatred of another arbitrary collection of non-celebrities is just a part of a strange and wonderful bonding session. In hindsight I think we will look like mental idiots on the telly, rather than the over-excited and drunk idiots that we actually are. Our group offence at the Cambridge cox, Connie Huq's low blow about Jonathan's daughter (who had attempted an ill-advised rapping career) showed just to what extent we had become a unit. Although our own messages were equally pointless and childish, having to endure theirs made us all the more keen to defeat them. We know they have physical superiority but we have the better mental (in a good way... and actually in a bad way too) attitude. I hope the programme employs psychologists to explain our behaviour. The increasing love and respect and protectiveness between us is something to behold.
Instead of going to bed I stayed up until after midnight playing Scrabble against one of the TV crew, Anthony. I knew we were getting up early the next day and I knew we were having a race and I was compus mentis enough to start drinking water. I wasn't worried about the late hour or the wine I had already consumed. After all, I hadn't had any problems with the rowing on the previous days.

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