Crew is a magical sport
Crew is a magical sport. Why I continue as a coxswain in this sport which I reap no physical benefit …well, the specifics are hard to explain to a non-rower. I do know, however, that there are certain moments, the many small glimpses of perfection, which reaffirm that I am exactly where I need to be. It’s the moment just after the race official calls “attention” before the start signal when every mind, body, heart, and soul of nine individuals locks into the water simultaneous with their blade. It’s the moment the sunrise casts its beams across the water at the end of a challenging practice. It’s the moment when we are dead even with the crew next to us, and I look over into the eyes of their coxswain during the last 500 meters of a race and prepare myself for the battle to the finish line. It’s the moment when I see two rowers finally bond in a relationship of trust, respect, and deep understanding after finishing a grueling erg piece together. It’s the moment I say something just the right way that the light bulb turns on in a rower’s head, and they row better because of it. It’s the moment when my energy and fire is reciprocated in my crew and we fly across the lake. It’s the moment when the boat is perfectly balanced, floating in the frozen time between the finish of one stroke — and the start of the next – and the silence is so loud it’s deafening. These are the moments that make my heart whole and they keep me forever striving for the instant replay.