I can feel it still. I see video of myself rowing when I was in my prime. I can feel the impulse, the rhythm, the power. I don’t row much at all anymore. I’m on the water coaching too many hours of the day to have the energy to get out and put in the meters in my single. But when I see good rowing I can still feel it pulsing inside of my body. I think that feeling will be forever locked inside my DNA.
Moving the boat well is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. Harmony. Timing. Awareness. Raw output. You, the boat, the water are one. It is an incredible gift to feel that kind of connection to anything.
I think the single is my favorite boat to this day because it is honest. Just you. Just the water. No one to blame but yourself. No one to be proud of but yourself. Wholly accountable to your dreams and high standards. What you get is what you give. My body is paying the price for all of those years of effort though. This year has been a snowball of injuries and setbacks. Torn left hip labrum. Torn left rotator cuff. Arthritis in most of my major joints. Back pain that ebbs and flows depending on how diligent I am with my exercise and mobility routines.
And for the first time in a long time I have truly started to itch to get back out there on the water. I told myself that when I stopped rowing full-time I would not row again unless I felt that itch. It would come at random times. But never strong enough to compel me to uni-up, grab my oars, and carry my boat down to the dock. Rarely it happened, but I tried to listen.
And now I am feeling that itch, hearing that call a little louder than normal. And I feel it in my bones, my muscles, and my heart. That desire to feel connection to the water and feel the glide of the boat underneath me. The splash of the blade slicing into the catch, timed perfectly with the change in directions of the seat. The hang on the blue Croker grips telling me I’m getting locked on.
But I can’t row yet because my body is not healthy. For the first time in a long time it’s not my desire that is holding me back. My body is. For so long my body was the thing that held it all together. My body always came through. And I believe it will again. And maybe for the first time in a long time I have a goal with rowing again. To get back out there. Feel that impulse. That rhythm. That connection.
I am listening. I can hear it. I can feel it. I’ll be back out there again soon.
