College crew Essays.
 

STROKES BY ANNIE McKENNA. BENTLY SCHOOL LAFAYETTE CALIFORNIA

 

Our stomach muscles clench, our legs slam down, our adrenaline pumps. We speed up and down our slides, pushing and pulling. We are frantic, yet we are controlled.

Our muscles strain as our oars slice into the water, briefly gripping at the currents of a frigid lake. We move as one, eight rowers rhythmically pulling the 210 pound boat through the water, wrenching our muscles as we slash at the lake. For six months, I have spent two and a half hours, five days a week, at crew practice, building up my strength. For six months, I have driven to the boat house to run and to work out, to erg and to row. For six months, I have gone to bed every night at eleven-thirty, and gotten up the next morning at six-thirty to go to school. All of this pain and work for this last eight minute race. 1500 meters left.

The initial push over, we now settle into the heart of the battle. The oars creak and click with us as we exhale. Already, my legs feel lifeless. The tape on my hands has rubbed off; my bare flesh chafes and tears on the plastic handles of the oars. I feel my skin peeling off the blisters, but I ignore the pain. It is only eight minutes. The body can bear almost anything for only eight minutes. 1000 meters left

 

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   My mind no longer tells my body what to do; it just does it. As I strain and pull, I know this is my last race. Next year, I will not come back to this. It took me five months to reach this conclusion, to realize that seven hours of sleep is not enough when combined with two and a half hours of practice and four hours of homework. Even now, understanding this truth, and feeling the biting pain in my heels, legs, hands, and arms, I regret that I have decided to leave. Now, as we stroke together, I know I am not working for myself. I am doing this for the boat, for the girl in front of me, and the girl behind me.

As sweat drips down the neck of the rower ahead of me, I know that I must sweat this much, too. I must do it for her. I am a body used for its energy and my job is simply to transfer this energy now into inches and feet, as I pull with all of my strength. The truth has accepted me, swallowed me up, and taken me in as a part of this team. As a novice, my importance is small, but I am still one of them. 500 meters left.

I have never belonged to anything the way I have at crew. As I push to keep my freezing muscles working, I know that everyone else in the boat is feeling what I am feeling now. I formed friendships so quickly at crew. Working together, dedicating weeks of your life to these last eight minutes creates an incredible bond.

We are in the home stretch now, the last piece, the hardest piece. By now, my muscles throb. Pain shoots through my thighs. My throat is dry and I feel as if it is bleeding, cracking and tearing as air rushes past it to my lungs. I can smell this dryness, yet I know I must keep going; I cannot stop. My body sends my brain message after message, pleading with it, but I do not respond. I can do it. I tell myself this over and over again. I am not thinking; I do not have the energy to think. I am simply doing. The other boats are in front and behind us, and we are almost there. 100 meters left.

I summon strength I did not know I possessed as I use all of my weight to fight against impending collapse. Only ten strokes. Nine. I must, I must, I must. Finally, finally, we glide over the line, and we stop. Breath heaves in and out of me; my lungs expand and contract as they begin to remember what inhaling oxygen is like. The entire boat breathes together, gulps of air. The boat slows; water no longer speeds past us. A gentle breeze I had not sensed before toys with my loose hair. I feel like I am going to vomit. Even as I think this, I am filled with joy. I did not let my team down.  I did it. We did it. I finished my last race. We did not win, but we did not really lose either. It does not matter that I will be unable to walk properly for a few days, or that my hands are blistered, or even that my heels are bleeding. I did all of this to be a part of a team. It was worth it.

 

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