August 18, 2007 - Focus

The final push towards Munich began this morning with an early wake up call in Winston-Salem, a short drive to Greensboro, and a flight to Philadelphia that turned out to be pleasantly uneventful.  A relaxed lunch and afternoon of school reading gave the first three quarters of the day a laid back feel, but with the team's first evening row of our pre-race training camp came a renewed sense of focus. 

The attitude in the boat tonight was relaxed, up-beat, and almost jovial.  The presence of a photographer hired to take shots of my guide dog Priscilla and me for an ad campaign for The Seeing Eye was certainly fodder for some good-natured ribbing and laughs.  Still, there just seemed to be something a little different about the crew's concentration level.  It seemed like each rower was paying closer attention to body position, blade work, and balance, that each was sitting up and listening more intently when Coach Karen offered technical advice, and that each was straining to create and maintain perfection more fervently than we had in any of our previous practices.  Perhaps it was a sense of urgency with the world championships just a few days away, perhaps something just clicked, or perhaps it was nothing more than the first cool and comfortable weather we've seen all year.  Whatever it was, the mood in the boat and by the dock was decidedly different and different for the better.

Really, my experience rowing with the national team this second time has been different in many ways.  For one, I've done all this before; it's no longer new.  In some sense, that is a little sad.  For example, getting our gear packages and international flight reservations didn't hold the same magic as a year ago.  At the same time, with familiarity comes confidence, and I feel much calmer now than I did during our last week before Eton.

Other things have changed that don't necessarily have anything to do with experience in rowing, but with experience in life.  For example, the addition of Lauren's constant and steady love in my life makes me feel far stronger, more confident, and less desperate for achievements than I've ever been.  It's not that I've lost any drive or will to win, but I simply feel more complete as a person and less reliant on outcomes for self-esteem.

Pain has also shaped my outlook.  As I have struggled with the relentless and so far incurable pain caused by an unidentified injury in my lower back, I've been forced to come to terms with the mortality of my rowing career and athletic prowess.  This too, though, has had both positive and negative effects.  Of course, the pain is unpleasant and it has robbed me of much of the joy I used to experience while training.  At the same time, the injury has given me a deeper appreciation of the here and now, reminding me that the greatest beauty is found in the process of growing and improving, not in final results.

Finally, this year there is an end in sight.  I now know that, if I am chosen to represent the country at the Paralympics in 2008, that will be my last race.  I have goals and aspirations beyond rowing that will soon require my full attention.  I know, then, that I have to soak all this up while I can.  It's not about living into cheesy metaphors like "seize the day" and "live in the moment."  It's about relishing a life that we only get to live one time, recognizing that some opportunities do only come one time despite our best intentions, and that endings, even to life-defining passions, are inevitable.

I'm tired of trying to write deep things about rowing.  It is, after all, only a sport no matter how much I glorify it and no matter how deeply I love it.  There is a world outside the narrow walls of the shell that is happy and full regardless of my erg score.  Perhaps this realization represents the biggest difference the past year has brought.  It does not diminish my insane love for the sport or my insatiable hunger to be a part of it, but it does give me perspective.  I am more than a rower...  I am going to go call Lauren.