First time for everything

So to get the cliche parts of a blog out of the way...

Welcome to my first blog ever.  It will not be overly elaborate nor edgy, but I will be keeping you up to date on the happenings of my quad training center life.  Because frankly, there are not enough hours in a day to call everyone who wants to know how things are going. 

So with that all being said here we go...

The drive to Philly was uneventful (as it should be).  For those who know how I drive, I tend to get a bit competitive with driving, especially on long rides, so I either zone out to my style of music or just play leap frog with other cars to give me goals.  This ride had both.

Once I arrived here I immediately realized the parking here was just as bad as Boston (DARN!! I thought I could have dodged that bullet).  Luckily for me there is no permit parking so any space I find is fair game.  Not so lucky for me, I arrived on a day where no one apparently moves their cars.  So as I arrived at my destination, I was stuck hunting for suitable parking for 30 minutes.  GAH!

The home of the Cunninghams was a welcomed sight.  There I was introduced to one of my crew mates Sam "Mr. Cunning" Cunningham,  and was reunited with an old friend and fellow crew mate D.O.S. (David O. Smith).  Not much else transpired that night as we had an early morning ahead.  So what better way to cap the night off than with a relaxing movie, Hannibal.  Good dreams followed afterwards.

The next morning all 3 of us headed down to Malta Boat Club to meet with the last link of the quad, Shane "mad-man" Madden.  We sorted out plan out, acquired oars, set the feet, oarlock heights and pushed off.  It was time to see if I would be able to live up to the reputation I created which allowed me the opportunity to come out here. 

That day we set out to work out the kinks, get us all in line with the form and style of stroke our coach aspires to have and just see where the chips fall.  The older Filippi sung-through the dirty water, set as could be.  It took some adjustment on my part to match the drastically different style of the stroke, but as foreign as it initially seemed, I oddly was more at peace with it.  Funny how that works. 

So with the Mad-man barking out orders we cruised through our 70+ min workout in what felt like only a fraction of the time.  I guess time does fly when you are having fun.  I was eager to see how the evening would go and what at TR machine was. 

Boy was I in store for some fun that night...