The 5th Annual Bay Area Leukemia Cup Regatta

Well, my latest season of training for an event is finally over. This past Sunday, after raising $3,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, Matt and I competed in the 5th Annual Bay Area Leukemia Cup Regatta. And we couldn't have done it without your support - thank you so much!

I know how glamorous and bourgeoisie sailing sounds. I get it. You probably wondered why in the world you would want to donate to us so we could learn to sail. But let me tell you - for me it was a painful experience - nearly a sacrifice.

The weather on the Bay is generally freezing (think at least 3 layers of clothing plus a life jacket), and the winds are strong and shifty (think boats nearly tipping over and getting drenched with water). Although generally people learning to sail cover the Basic Keelboat class in 2 consecutive weekends, our 4 days of instruction were spread out over about 2 months, making it hard to remember what to do. And adding to that trouble, most of the instructors were prone to yelling a lot. I generally don't mind being yelled too much at if I understand what is going on and can correct it, but I absolutely hate being yelled at uselessly. Yelling at me over and over again to "head up" when I can't remember what that means does no good. Yelling at me without looking to see what I'm doing does no good. Sometimes it take a couple seconds for the boat to respond, and I was already doing what I was being yelled at to do. Upon more yelling, I would change my mind and do the opposite, which resulted in even more yelling, since that was definitely the wrong thing to do. So much yelling! So much not understanding what was going on.

The training for this event consisted of:
1 fun sail
1 knot tying clinic
4 days of classroom/sail training
1 2 hour race practice

Not nearly the amount of time you spend training for a running race. Granted, Matt and I did miss 1 other race practice and certification day because of my triathlon last weekend. However, because of the lack of training, I was just beginning to get it on the day of the race. After having been nominated helmsman (aka the driver) for some unknown reason, I finally learned how to keep my tell tales flying straight the day of the race. The race was at least 1.5 hours. As helmsman, you have to stare at the sails the entire time, basically without losing concentration (or you will be YELLED at). No looking at the scenery, no checking out the dolphins, no watching other boats. No sipping a frozen beverage in your bikini. Just watching the sail. And little pieces of string flying off them.

But the reward? 2nd place in our division of 6 boats. We were behind the leader by 2 minutes, and in front of the next two boats by about 30 seconds and 50 seconds, each. The end was pure luck - shifty winds that I could barely deal with while just trying to follow the instructions our skipper was yelling at me. The boat that had been in 2nd place faltered. But we had gone around the 1st mark dead last, so at least we made up some time. And I learned that at least two of the other instructors had been at the tiller for the start - unfair advantage!

In the end, after dreading going to the practices, I actually enjoyed race day. Somehow I managed to relax and just not stress about it. It certainly helped that we didn't finish last. Matt and I still plan to pursue our certification - in part to get some of our money's worth out of this program, in part because we promised some people we would take them sailing, and in part because maybe someday we will sail again. In the Caribbean, I hope.

You can check out pictures of the race here, although I haven't found any of our boat.