World Rowing asked this morning if anyone could describe rowing in three words. Easy, I thought… until I tried to narrow it down.
There’s the day-to-day stuff. Blisters, callouses, trackbites. Hunger, thirst, food. Erg, shower, sleep. But that barely scratches the surface.
When it’s all about racing, I might go for adrenaline, excitement, anticipation, but that’s before I’ve even got to the starting line. What about pain, perseverance, courage? And then – depending on what happens – triumph, elation, joy or frustration, calamity, distress.
When it’s a smooth, summer’s evening scull with the sun setting and the swans gliding past, it might be calm, beauty, serenity.
Or on a freezing winter’s morning with the mist hanging over the water and icicles forming on the riggers it might be chill, ice, slide (and hurry up and get this boat on the water before we all die of pneumonia).
When the rowing’s going especially well or especially badly, it’s support, encouragement, teamwork.
Or on nights out with the squad, it’s fun, laughter, dancing. (Oh yes. Lots of dancing.)
Of course, if I’m really honest there are three little words that pretty much sum up how I feel about rowing. It’s just that I’m a bit shy and I’m not sure if I’m ready to say them yet. Maybe if I whisper…
