Four days a week at either sunrise or sunset, I’m out on the boat rowing in the Mare Island Straits. Most of the time I love every minute I’m on the water. The exception are days, like this one, when the water is so choppy, the wind so fierce, that it feels like we’re rowing through concrete, maybe even moving backwards. My lungs burn, my arms and thighs are screaming and I wonder why I’m out there struggling so hard to go nowhere. And then I look at my teammates and remember that these incredible people, with their generous 110 percent competitive and fun-loving spirits, are the reason I’m still there. I love that rowing is a team sport. When I’m ready to quit, there’s always someone in the boat who will yell out encouragement and I’m buoyed once again. It’s a nice little microcosm for life, I think.
Or maybe it’s just exercise. Whatever. I love it.
These are the views from my seat. I row Starboard, seat 2, engine room.