Out of the airplane window I saw the blinking white light of a wing tip. The light flashed at a steady 32 strokes per minute. Oh wow. I was definitely still in Regatta mode. I took a deep breath and heard the hum of voices in the plane. My 79 teammates. My family.
My hand clutched the silver medal I wore around my neck. I hadn’t taken it off since my coach placed it around my neck. Well, minus the walk through airport security. Apparently my medal could be a “bomb threat,” so I had to take it off and put it in one of the little buckets. Out of my entire team’s history only two novice boats had ever placed at Head of the Hooch. I had been part of the boat. I swelled with pride.
The man next me asked, “What’s the medal for?”
“Second out of twenty-four boats.”
“How fast did you go?”
“18:45, I think. 5000 meters.”
“How many in your boat?”
“Eight.”
He chuckled. “Not bad for girls.”
That I laughed at. If only he knew.
“It was actually a mixed boat. Four men and four women.”
“Ah.”
“We had a headwind.” I added, unnecessarily.
As I thought about the weekend, it seemed to have elapsed over a year’s time. I was more tired than I could remember being in a long long time. Out of my entire team, I had raced more than anyone, but I was not complaining at all. I counted myself lucky.
I touched the medal around my neck again, smiling a little, but it was tinged with sadness.
The race I had medaled in would be my last novice race ever. However, it wasn’t just that. It had been a long year.
I was given a varsity seat after two months, lost my novice year, lost my coach, switched teams, earned a seat in the 1st V4+, then lost it again, been made a novice again (well half a novice because I was racing Varsity too), and on top of all that, somehow managed to run a blog about Rowing, and gone to school. The metal signified everything I had been through, everything I had worked for.
Yes. This was the end of my novice career…
But it was the start of the rest of my rowing career… and I couldn’t be more proud.
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