On Saturday we rowed waaaaaay out into the Bay, to what we call the tripod. I was in the bow seat of the eight, which seat I love because it calls for exceptionally good rowing and so is challenging, and is also a place where the bigger rowers (like me) rarely sit. So my teammate Corrie and I, an unlikely bow pair, were happy to be together, rowing one and two.
Our coach announced that we would race all the way back, under the freeway bridges, past the boathouse, down the straightaway, to the "finish line". I was in the youngest boat (we handicap by age), so we had to sit for a very long time while the other boats got a head start. We had a great race, about twenty minutes in total.
It was at the point that we rowed full pressure under the bridges that it occurred to me, again, how much trust it takes to go full speed ahead when you cannot see exactly where you are going. There are eight of us, trusting a teenager to steer, movitate, correct technique, all going full out backwards. But the bridges are especially tricky; and scary, since large concrete pillars pass into our peripheral vision as we are just barely missing them with the ends of our oars. And then, once safely through, we pull again with all our might, trying to push our boat forward.
A life lesson Saturday, about being aware of the perils, and still nativating through them, backwards, trusting that all will be well. That is the kind of thing I learn from rowing. I was thankful for rowing Saturday, it was a great reminder.
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