Row, row, row your boat

I have officially fallen in love...with rowing. I finished my class on learning to row on Saturday, and here I now stand (er, sit), blistered, tanned, biceped and very, very happy. OK, so I have more blisters than tan or biceps, but those, too, will come.

From the moment I started, I wandered around the Minnesota Boat Club on Raspberry Island in St. Paul with a silly grin on my face. This sport is for me, and I knew it before I even got on the water. Once we did get on the water, there were moments of sheer joy to go along with pangs of frustration. The pleasure of sweeping your oar through the water and taking a full stroke completely in sync with everyone else, though, far outweighs any of the bad - catching a crab with the blade, getting a finger crushed between the side of the shell and the oar, constantly balancing the height of the oar, wreaking havoc with the ergs (rowing machines) to starting out on the "Barge" to struggling with "Tenacious" (my first 8+). I didn't fall in (for which I am extremely grateful - the Mississippi is nasty), nor did I drop my oar ("Rule 1: Never let go of your oar!"). I happily suffered through a rainy river rendezvous (which is why I now have a horrible cold), survived at stroke (setting pace for the rest of the crew members), attempted to relax while rowing ("You need to relax, Linnea!"), and enjoyed being on the water, all while having a blast, rain or shine, hot and hotter. I highly recommend it.

I've decided to join the club (the St. Paul club - there are others in the area), and at the encouragement of other members, I will attempt to race with other novices this fall. I'll continue with sweep rowing (one oar) for the next year or so, except tomorrow night, when I'm going to try sculling (two oars).

And even crazier? There are others out there like me...