HORR Results
It's finally here! Below you can experience the M1's gruelling Head of the River Race on the Thames with a recap by Alex Randall, along with pictures!
Hughes Hall M1 made history on Saturday 27th March 2010, by becoming the first men’s crew from the college to enter the Head of the River Race in London. As gullible and wide-eyed novices we were recruited to the idea several long months ago, by gently smiling coaches and a captain in whom we trusted implicitly. Their betrayal became evident as the race drew nearer; gruelling erg tests, early morning pain and stormy trips to London cast their lies aside, and trembling, we faced the reality of the task ahead. Four and a half miles racing along the Tideway, competing against an international line-up of athletes is no mean feat for a crew that rarely gets to row together.
Despite the predictable moans and whimpers of the senior members of the crew regarding leg and wrist ‘injuries’, we pushed ourselves through training and arrived in London feeling relatively calm. Even the near-death experience of raging fires at Cambridge station that very morning could not shake our icy resolve; we were nothing if not committed. Anton settled down with a hearty cooked breakfast while the rest of us re-rigged the boat and before long we were on the water, the choppy row to the start settling our frayed nerves. Echoes of the last-minute coaching given by Dominic and Hannah mingled with the hysterical screams of our fans as we passed under Hammersmith Bridge. The inexplicable rage of the marshals did considerably less for our cool demeanour, but all was forgotten as we spun at Chiswick. Our start position was entirely compromised by a deaf Loughborough crew, and we crossed the line almost head to head and out of the stream. Regardless of the early set back, we found a strong rhythm and settled in to the pace with Stella steering us fearlessly along the course.
I would like to give a detailed strategic summary of our efforts throughout the race, but I’m afraid that it is just one long painful blur. I recall feeling utter disbelief at the revelation that we were ‘in sight’ of Hammersmith Bridge when convinced that we must be almost underneath it, and desperation when Craven Cottage refused to herald the final stretch over my right shoulder. Indeed, Stella’s calls kept us going until the very end; few will forget the cry of ‘ten strokes to go!’ followed by a countdown that lasted until five, before a heartbreaking call of ‘pushing for twenty’. Needless to say we all made it to the end; crossing the line in a good time of 20 minutes and 19 seconds, overtaking the University of Swansea in the last 1000m, and finishing close to the times of crews that will race several divisions above us come May Bumps.
