Having upwards of five boats in our program meant that we were not reliant on who else might be training on any given day. We always had the critical mass needed for tuning, upwind splits, practice starts, and short-course racing. We knew each other, and we all knew how to execute each plan. And while not everyone had the same needs, everyone’s needs were met during the course of our practice sessions. Structure and routine ruled.

Over the course of the program, there grew a sense of togetherness. With everyone attending the meetings, speaking openly of their experiences, and respecting each other, tiers were erased. It was not always apparent we were moving forward—relative to each other there wasn’t a tremendous amount of change—but the group was always experiencing their sport at a heightened level as a team.

While our routine was vital, we also tried to manage our energy levels. The additional meeting time before and after made any day on the water quite long. And, we were all balancing our sailing commitment against our other responsibilities. Balanced rest and practice time was an important consideration leading into the Worlds. The activity in the final week at the regatta venue is intoxicating, and can lead to training even harder. But for a nine-race, six-day regatta, with upwind legs in excess of 2 miles, it is also important to be mentally and physically strong throughout the event. We took a couple breaks in the week leading up to the worlds.

Bill had put together a program to win the 81-boat championship, and that is what we did with a day to spare. It was a bit bizarre attending the afternoon debrief the day we clinched the regatta; popping champagne and swimming in the bay seemed more appropriate. But our routine was our routine. What I remember about that meeting was the genuine support that existed in the room. It was as if we had all won the Worlds, not just one boat. And when working with a group training program, that is the ultimate goal.