Rowing Memoir

"All hands are down...Attention...GO!" the official yelled, signaling the start of the final race at the Youth Invitational for Junior Rowers. It would be the last race that I would be competing in, as a varsity rower for Everett Rowing Association. June sixth started like every other regatta day. I woke up to the alarm blaring in my ear with three other girls stirring about getting everything ready for the day. Not wanting to wake up at that moment I lay there in the hotel bed with the starchy white sheet over my head. Trying unsuccessfully to block out the brightness of the fluorescent lights in the room from reaching my eyes. Apparently I was taking too much time to put my feet on the floor. So Ashley, Erin and Jessica decided to take it upon themselves to get me out of bed. They tore the thin sheet off me and exposed my body to the cold air conditioning of the hotel room.

"Why on earth do you think that is going to make me move any faster?" I groaned as my teammates stood staring at me.

"I don't know, maybe because you are freezing now and won't be able to go back to sleep" Ashley replied. Ashley was the novice who had learned everything about rowing in the course of eight months and had managed to make the varsity boat.

There were nine girls in our boat, including myself. The boat we would be rowing in the final was an eight person racing shell. There also was a coxswain, Kendra in our case. The coxswain is "the person steering the boat who also motivates the rowers, helps them keep their pace and helps to correct technique and unify the crew"(Campbell). The boat is set up so that there are four sets of pairs; each pair of girls is of similar size and strength. Bow pair or seats one and two are usually the lightest people of the boat, since they are perched on the front of a boat. These two help to set the boat so that it does not rock from side to side. The middle four girls are called the engine room, seats three, four, five, and six. These girls are the strongest of the boat and help it move, they are the tallest people in the boat in almost all cases. Then there is the stern pair or seats seven and eight. This pair sets the rhythm of the boat and helps everyone stay at the same pace and stroke rate. Everyone in the boat follows these two girls. The stroke seat, or seat eight, has the best technique when they row.

"Right," I grumbled, as I threw my arm off the bed grabbing for the comforter.

We proceeded down the stairs for breakfast, the tension could have been cut with a knife. Everyone, including myself, was having intense feelings about the upcoming race. My nerves jangled as I tried to down a glass of orange juice. All I could think about was what was to come in the next few hours. After finishing we went back upstairs and took our now packed bags down one floor into one of the coaches rooms, so that we could come back to get them later for our flight home.

In the lobby our parents were eager to see us before we left for the racecourse. It is always interesting to me that this happened, since they would see us before our race took place. My Mom and Dad took enough pictures of me to fill a scrapbook in the 25-minute span. She was playing the part of the official photographer, having us take group and individual shots, then pictures with the coach. Then we left in the rental van for the racecourse. The van ride to the lake was different everyday that week. Padraic, my coach of two years, tried to lighten the mood today by telling us stories, about his time as a rower in high school and how he always felt out of place, but everything worked itself out. This only slightly released the tension in the van. When we finally arrived at the racecourse after enduring the wild driving techniques of Padraic, dodging traffic and speeding around corners, the parking lot was filled with rowers and spectators who had overflowed onto the beach area of the park. A forest surrounded the large glassy lake that included, a sandy beach littered with cigarette buds. The spring humidity encouraged the locals to come out in droves, on that Sunday afternoon, to go swimming in the algae infested waters.

It wasn't my first time here at Nationals in Cincinnati, but for most of my boat mates it was their first time. They had no idea about what they would be feeling at the start of the race. Luckily for me I had my parents there to help ease my nerves, also my boyfriend was participating at the Youth Invitational. It was great to have Patrick there in Cincinnati so that I was not stressing so much about my upcoming race. Although he was not in the grand final he also was racing that day. After setting my things I would be using for the day at the designated area on the brown grass, I went down to the shore to catch the last part of his race. Everyone was cheering his boat on and that excitement was making me anxious for my race. Sadly, I had to go with my boat mates to have a team meeting, so I could not talk to him after his race.

The meeting was quiet and everyone was nervous including myself. One of my stress relievers is that I sing to myself, which gets my emotions out. It does not usually bother anyone but because of the nervousness, people were feeling this time it did.

"Kelli will you stop singing!" snapped Kendra, one of the girls on my team. I happened to be singing my favorite song from the Garden State soundtrack by Colin Hay.

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You.

"I drink good coffee every morning.

Comes from a place that's far away;

And when I'm done I feel like talking.

Without you here there is less to say..."

"It's the only way I can relax Kendra. Sorry, I'm such a bad person," I said in reply.

Well, that attitude was a bad sign since we still had over two hours before the predicted start of the race. Deciding to put that aside I walked over to Patrick, where he was busily putting bubble wrap on his boat. My nerves still were not calmed so I needed to be put at ease. Simply talking to him about absolutely nothing was the prefect way to take my mind off of the day. To my disappointment, he was only going to be able to see the tail end of my race because he had to go back and pack his bag for his flight home. So I wouldn't get to see him until after my race had finished, unfortunately.

"Hands on the boat," Kendra, our coxswain said in her unusually quiet voice.

After putting the glossy boat on our shoulders, we walked our

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