I would love to hold your hand, but you probably do not want to touch mine. It’s covered in callouses on the best days and oozing with open blisters on the worst. Getting your first blisters is like an initiation into the world of rowing. It’s visible evidence of the hard work that happens in the boat; nasty hands are a mark of toughness, … Continue reading Hold my Hand?
I don’t trust the weather. It has ulterior motives. It plunges the Midwest into a long, dreary winter, promising a frozen tundra for five months at least. But then there are weeks like this. Little blips of spring weather that arrive with all of the hopes and dreams of summer. Premature weeks of spring during the college years ride in on a chariot of light … Continue reading False Spring
The other day, I was washing my hands at the boathouse. That opening line is gripping I know. Hold onto your hats everyone this is gonna be good. Anyway. While I was scrubbing away with soap and hot water because I was recently ill and don’t want to get others sick, one of my team mates came out of the stall and joined me at … Continue reading Wash your hands
Recently I have noticed a trend in my rowing career. I tend to come into a new portion of the season doing really well; stroking solid boats or pulling good erg scores. Then slowly I’ll start to move back into the boat and then be bumped out of the boat until I’m getting my ass kicked by everyone. It’s far from not trying. I’m trying … Continue reading Bouncing