After several long and frustrating months away from rowing, I finally got back on my beloved river this weekend.
During my time away I’ve learned to love running (something I never thought would happen), have gained in fitness (I’ve also learned to rest) and have admired the river from the banks. But nothing – really, nothing – is quite like the thrill of gliding along next to the swans on the smooth, glassy water.
I was a bit nervous about my first time back. Would I be able to remember what to do? Would it feel exhausting, painful, uncomfortable, ridiculous?
Actually, it just felt right. More than right, it was exhilarating.
Admittedly, it was cold – one of those ice-on-the-blades mornings – but what’s a bit of ice between friends? If a lump of the cold stuff is good enough for my gin and tonic (and it is), then it’s good enough for my blades.
The next few weeks will, I hope, see a gradual return to rowing strength, thanks to my amazing physio, Richard Coates. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s back to business. Want to raise a glass to that?
