Way Enough.

A few weeks ago I took a sweep rowing class. It was something that I always wanted to try it but never did, probably out of fear that I would fail. But then six months ago I pushed a nine pound kid out of me, unmedicated, and I unleashed some confidence that had been hiding in me for most of my life, so I signed up.

I started with 6 sessions in the novice class and recently graduated to the intermediate level despite the fact that I often feel like I have no business being in a boat on the water. I already have enough trouble keeping my lefts and rights straight and now "port" and "starboard" have been thrown into the mix. There is a term in rowing called "catching a crab" (tee-hee, I said crab). It is not nearly as gross as it sounds but about as embarrassing when you are the newbie on the intermediate team. It basically means you get out of sync with the other rowers in the boat and get your oar stuck in a way that, in the worse case scenario, can throw you out of the boat. Although I have yet to be launched out of the boat into the scummy water that is Lake Merritt, I did catch two crabs today. It was not easy for my stroke or my pride to recover.

But, I'm not giving up yet. So far it is an excellent workout and I love the idea of being on a team. And on Saturdays after practice, the team goes out to breakfast. In fact, the coach of the novice class said during practice one day that the great thing about being a rower is that you can eat whatever you want. This pleases me.