I know you miss it. I know that quitting was a huge decision and it wasn’t a decision you necessarily wanted to make. Rather, it was a decision forced upon you by unforeseen circumstances, whether you grew up and went to away college and they didn’t offer the program, or maybe you joined in college, and you had to put your future ahead of the races. Maybe you even had to choose between two things: one option included the sport, and one didn’t. I don’t know what your circumstances were, but I know it wasn’t easy and I’m sorry.
I know you’re looking back, seeing your old teammates, as well as the new generation of rowers and coxswains alike, just starting to figure out the most complicated sport around. You know where they’re at, because you’ve been there. You know that it will take them an entire year and a half to learn they’re rushing their slide, and that rush/check will make you go the wrong kind of backwards. You know that the first year coxswains will either say ‘row’ every other stroke, or sit there like a 120 lb. sand bag with a string. The experienced ones are standing there chuckling silently, while every gullible novice is sent looking for the ‘bow ball pressure gage’ or the ‘oar lock key.’ I know you miss the novice who think that rowing is their entire life, but I know you were also that novice. That initial love and drive for the sport is also why you stuck around for so long.
You didn’t just stay for the initial love though; you stayed for the races, and the traveling, the people, and the river. You stayed for the practices in the rain, snow and sun. You inevitably even stayed for the erg work. You stayed for the burning in your legs after a workout, because you know you gave it your all. You stayed for the PRs, and the medals. You stayed for cheering on the side of a very packed riverbank. You stayed for the vendors, and the regattas where as far as you could see were just boats. Mostly, you stayed because you knew what it took for race day, and that every second and every practice led up to that moment at the starting line. Those people around you had your back, and they were willing to destroy themselves for that boat to win that race, and you were going to do the same thing for them.
Every reason you stayed, is also every reason you miss it.
Now everything has happened, and this amazing, thrilling, sport is no longer a part of your life. Be happy for those teammates. Be ecstatic for the memories that they are making that will come to form who they are, just as it did for you. It's their turn. They get to go on 14-hour bus rides. They get to have their six minutes of hell, for a medal that they will hang on their wall for the next four years. They will find the excitement of pulling out their uni for the first race of the season. They will find the humor in sending novices to look for non-existent tools. Its their turn, they will make the best of it, just as you did. Pray that this sport will teach them the same discipline and respect that it taught you. I know you miss it, because I do too.
I know you had to give up something that is utterly un-explainable to someone on the outside. This sport is a whirlwind of emotions every time you’re around it, and nobody quite understands unless they’re right there with you. Here is an amazing thing though, you gave up the good for the great. It was worth it. Your life and your future will be more amazing than any six-minute race could be. You may not see it now, and it may be hard in this moment, but you had to quit for the right reasons. The glory days of sport may be over, but I promise you, your future will be even more glorious.
Love, The Ex-Rower
