#rosecityrowing

As move-in day is approaching, I wanted to utilize this week to do some serious organizing. Starting with my closet, I categorized by seasons, type, and items to be donated. Among those to be donated were my old tees collected from regattas over the years. As much as it hurt my heart to see them go, I’ve been lugging them from place to place with no wear for far too long. I figured taking pictures of my favorites would be just as memorable as keeping them locked away in the back of my closet. 

These shirts reminded me much of what rowing gave me, and how I missed it. Reflecting on this today, I wish there was a way I could still keep it a part of my life without the immense time commitment it calls for. Before rowing, I had never competed in a sport as mentally and physically exhausting - and I’ve tried just about every sport. As much as muscular and cardiovascular endurance plays a role in being a successful rower, so does the mental capability of hitting a stroke rate, maintaining rhythm, and not allowing the body to break before the finish line. 

I find rowing to be so powerful in the way it requires how strong a team has to be together. I never got the sense there is an MVP in this sport. In other words, even though a team mate might have a faster split than me, we were all equally necessary to have in our seat to win. If one person is not pulling their weight (quite literally), the rest of us feel it and have to compensate. If one person looses rhythm, it could set the others off in the boat similar to a domino effect. Each seat has purpose, equally important. The front seats set the pace, middle seats are the powerhouses, and seats to the rear carry the balance. Even the coxswain, could arguably be the most valuable because they have so many details on their plate to manage. Knowing we were all in the “same boat”, all working towards a common direction, only makes this sport more valuable to those playing it. 

There are days where I look for peace, and my mind takes me back to memories of morning practices and perfect races. I can feel the send of the boat under me after each push of my legs, accompanied with a grunt in unison with my crew. I can hear the click of the ores when they hit our abdomens, immediately followed by the silence over the water as we glide to our next position. These moments are so serene, and often helped me overcome whatever internal battle I was fighting that day.

I am not a person who can remember specific moments in my life well. I’m usually the type who can recall a vague time or place only with fuzzy details. But this moment I remember very clearly; I had hit the split time my coach set for me at the beginning of the season, and the fastest time for me yet. Starting out with my power 20′s to set the pace, I didn’t think I could hold onto it for 2,000 meters. Midway, I wanted to stop. I wanted to slow, give my legs and heart a break. My coach, Kenzie noticed. She came over to me and spoke to me for the remainder of the race. She held me accountable and believed I would do it. I watched the meters count down to 0 with my goal split stuck on the screen. I was so overcome with relief and happiness I felt tears start to build up behind my eyes. In that moment I had truly experienced what it meant to work hard for reward.