I have not set foot here for more than a dozen years. 2001 is that year. That year the second year of my involvement with the national team, after being introduced to the sport in my first year at uni. That is also the year that a knee injury put an end to my sporting dream.
it is not the most popular of sports, but the challenges is very different. Different requirements. Different techniques, different technology. On different environment.
Oh, did you know that I could not even swim? And the sport does not even use life jackets?
But nothing beats the gliding of the boat on a windless, cast day, on water as still as glass, with each drop of water falling off the blades creating mini ripples not unlike the breadcrumbs of lore. And the mechanical sound of the oar collar, twisted at the gate, right before we slide our seat forward is as reassuring as it is crude.
Feels like I am falling in love again. Should be working on loving all things about rowing, all over again. After all, it is also hard work to love something. Or someone.
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