While hordes of college kids migrated south to gallivant in the sunshine, and drink away their sorrows for Spring Break, my team relocated to the “great” Deland, FL, aka paradise. Surrounded by farm life, motor homes, and alligators, I anticipated a week of rowing, eating, and a whole lot of estrogen.

Fast forward a week, I survived. Barely. It was hard. It was frustrating. Some nights I wanted to escape back to Boston so much I looked at plane tickets home. Words of criticism echoed in my mind throughout every practice; square…square your blade…four seat you’re too early…four seat don’t rush the slide…bodies over…four seat lengthen the catch…get your blade in the water…four seat, your blade is digging…again…your blade is digging…again…again.

As someone who has a hard time not excelling, this was my hell. There were low points where I convinced myself I should just become the team’s official photographer (see photos below) and stop wasting everyone’s time. While there is still a possibility the coaches will approach me to request that, in the meantime I am swallowing my pride, putting in my 10,000 hours (Outliers reference) and praying for the balance, control, and drive, so I can row as efficiently as possible. Sure, the lack of instant success to my rowing career is obnoxious, but the estrogen fest was fantastic and I am grateful for coaches who are willing to push me. Below is a fragment of the week, when I had time to pick up my camera. Enjoy.