The Boat
Over the course of the year I go to practice on average 125 days. Each of those days I spend about 1.5 hours on the water. That’s 187.5 hours of rowing; 11250 minutes. Each year I spend an average 11250 minutes rowing on the water. Every single minute is unique and never taken for granted. Without these minutes, I would not be the same person that I am. I would not be the same person I am without these minutes, and these minutes are made possible not only because I show up, but also because we have a boat. Our boat is the device that allows us to spend time on the water. Without our boat we would be nothing, and furthermore the boat would not be on the water if we could not lift it. If we could not carry our boat to the water, then we could not row, and if we could not row, I would not be the person that I am today.
When I am in the boathouse I am quiet, I am calm, and I am collected. I am focused and I am prepared. Before we can row; the command is given to get hands on the boat. Two men climb the stairs at each end of the boat racks. Eight hands rest gently on the gunwales, prepared to heave the burden of the boat. As the boat is lifted, it is passed down to another eight hands, eagerly awaiting the boat to ensure its safety in its journey away from the other boats. Sixteen hands support the weight of the boat as we hold it above our heads. Softly we split sides and rest the boat on eight brawny shoulders. As we support the boat with our arms and shoulders, we do so together. Although the boat is awkward and heavy, we are connected with it and it connects us. We are connected physically, emotionally, and mentally. Our minds are set to make the boat progress as smoothly as possible and the boat is created to rest smoothly on the surface. Our bodies are prepared to withstand excruciating pain and the boat is made to sustain the power which we apply. When we are having problems the boat reacts, and when the boat is not in its top shape it is evident through our rowing.
Carrying the boat is the creation. From the moment we lift our boat together new relationships are formed. The boat becomes one with its rowers just as the rowers become one with their boat. As we step out of the shadowy boathouse into the light it is the birth. We spring into a new world; a world different from all others in which we will thrive or fail. The boat is our platform for our success; we must take care of our boat, making sure that it is placed carefully into the water. As the boat rests on the surface, it is prepared to connect us to the water molecules which we push to gain speed. The speed gives us life; it keeps us on the tips of our toes, and reminds us why we are here.
We trust our boat and we trust each other. My relationship with my boat contains the fundamental values which prevail in my friendships. We depend on each other. Without my boat I wouldn’t be able to row. Without my boat mates and I, the boat would not have anyone to use it. We work for each other. I use my energy to make the boat succeed, because I know that the boat is in its best shape for me. We are there for each other. I know that my boat will always be waiting for me on the top rack, and we show up five days a week to connect ourselves with our boat. We bring out the best in each other. When we are champions, we know we are racing the fastest shell. We know that the boat has pushed us beyond our feasible limits. When we race our shell, we look beyond what we understand for meaning. We wonder why we are withstanding this pain and there is no real answer. It all begins at the start, as we gently rest our hands against our gleaming boat.
When I am in the boathouse I am quiet, I am calm, and I am collected. I am focused and I am prepared. Before we can row; the command is given to get hands on the boat. Two men climb the stairs at each end of the boat racks. Eight hands rest gently on the gunwales, prepared to heave the burden of the boat. As the boat is lifted, it is passed down to another eight hands, eagerly awaiting the boat to ensure its safety in its journey away from the other boats. Sixteen hands support the weight of the boat as we hold it above our heads. Softly we split sides and rest the boat on eight brawny shoulders. As we support the boat with our arms and shoulders, we do so together. Although the boat is awkward and heavy, we are connected with it and it connects us. We are connected physically, emotionally, and mentally. Our minds are set to make the boat progress as smoothly as possible and the boat is created to rest smoothly on the surface. Our bodies are prepared to withstand excruciating pain and the boat is made to sustain the power which we apply. When we are having problems the boat reacts, and when the boat is not in its top shape it is evident through our rowing.
Carrying the boat is the creation. From the moment we lift our boat together new relationships are formed. The boat becomes one with its rowers just as the rowers become one with their boat. As we step out of the shadowy boathouse into the light it is the birth. We spring into a new world; a world different from all others in which we will thrive or fail. The boat is our platform for our success; we must take care of our boat, making sure that it is placed carefully into the water. As the boat rests on the surface, it is prepared to connect us to the water molecules which we push to gain speed. The speed gives us life; it keeps us on the tips of our toes, and reminds us why we are here.
We trust our boat and we trust each other. My relationship with my boat contains the fundamental values which prevail in my friendships. We depend on each other. Without my boat I wouldn’t be able to row. Without my boat mates and I, the boat would not have anyone to use it. We work for each other. I use my energy to make the boat succeed, because I know that the boat is in its best shape for me. We are there for each other. I know that my boat will always be waiting for me on the top rack, and we show up five days a week to connect ourselves with our boat. We bring out the best in each other. When we are champions, we know we are racing the fastest shell. We know that the boat has pushed us beyond our feasible limits. When we race our shell, we look beyond what we understand for meaning. We wonder why we are withstanding this pain and there is no real answer. It all begins at the start, as we gently rest our hands against our gleaming boat.