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I was disappointed that rain scrubbed rowing practice this morning. I have had a new enthusiasm for it lately, partly because the coach is trying me at stroke seat again, even if it's temporary. He is grooming a port rower (really strong, but a bit green technically) for the job, so he is having me sit in front of her in the boat because he says I have good technique, and he wants her to follow my movements. So the coach has, at least for the next few weeks, had the good boat (not the crappy, rigidly unadjustable one we normally use) rigged "starboard-stroke" to accommodate me and the said port rower.
So I vaguely heard the sound of my cell phone ringing this morning at 3:45 a.m. I heard it in my sleep, and by the time I realized it was real and not a part of my dream, I had missed it. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was C., another rower. I called her back, and she said that it was pouring at K.'s house, who lives in Clermont. K. did not want to drive all the way out just to turn around and drive home.
I don't know how K. does it three mornings a week. She needs to be up at 3:45 and out of her house by 4 a.m. in order to make it to practice on time. She has a husband and two grade-schoolers, who proudly support her. And she is an elementary school teacher, which is more than a 40 hour-a-week job. She must be in bed by 9 p.m. each night or she will not make it through the next day.
She's not our boat's strongest rower or in the best shape. But she's out there with a smile every day. And when we have a bad practice, she's the first to crack a joke and lighten the mood. I envy her heart and energy. Her spirit and enthusiasm is as important as any strong chick in the boat.