[Genesis Story, Poem,
Quotes]
An Alternate Genesis Story
And after God had created the earth and all the things that were in it, God created man and woman. They followed
his command and were fruitful and multiplied.
Then God looked down upon the human race and sought out four strong humans: tall, lean, well-muscled, but not too bright. These four God called "the engine room".
God looked further and found two strong humans with focus and a well-developed sense of balance. These two God called "the bow pair".
God sought a human who was steely-eyed, determined, a competitor who would never say "die".
This human God called "the stroke".
One more human God found. An individual who had all the qualities of "the stroke" but one who could also follow and send a strong rhythm and will to those who in turn followed him and who was the best looking person in the crew. This individual God called simply "seven".
Now God faced the biggest challenge. God must find an individual who could control and lead these eight exemplary human beings. One who was cocky and confident with a loud voice and dominant bearing . God found no such human being, so God came to earth and took on the role of the coxswain. And the eight human beings declared that the coxswain had a "God-complex".
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On the water the confusion stops,
the peace begins, the tension drops,
Rhythm, run, glide and catch,
Muscles work, mind does relax,
Body and boat synchronised,
the scullers grace exemplified,
Forever to be able to use the blade,
to traverse the water is my heaven made.
Ode to a Coxswain
It's not my job to row the boat,
The workout I do not write.
It's not my job to rig the shell or
Carry it to the dock.
It's not my job to select the crew,
The seats I do not assign.
But let us come in second place
And see who get the blame!
Darkness has not yet lifted,
But our morning has long since begun.
And into small groups drifted
We, sleepy-eyed, heads hung.
Then in water boats waken
Small ripples who fade into shore.
The mist in the air's shaken,
As the night becomes no more.
Each soul cries out to soul!
In words only silence knows.
Each half is turned to whole.
For in us new strength grows.
Our strength brings on the day,
We are the guardians of the light.
Bring rough waters if you may,
We are not afraid of the fight.
Darkness did long ago lift,
But our morning's not yet complete.
And into small groups drift
We, confident, voided of defeat.
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This Breaking Light
At a strong 18
We echo through the bridge.
The sound of our boat
is a wake up call for the sun.
We call on her to warm our bellies
and like fire over the city
We take over.
Our rate rises with the sun
as we start our last piece on
This breaking light
Shining like gold
we soar
Our oars like sticks
the water a drum
and in two
we wake up the sun.
Weightless in water, swift as the wind,
Subtle of purpose - a feather blown -
I go with my oarsmen where they will,
My beautiful body and theirs all one.
To follow the drops
sliding from a lifting oar,
Head up, while the rower
breathes, and the small
boat drifts
quietly shoreward...
I met a solid rowing friend and asked about the Race. "How fared it
with the wind," I said, "When stroke increased the pace?
You swung it forward mightily, you heaved it greatly back. "Your
muscles rose in knotted lumps, I almost heard the crack. "And
while we roared and rattled too, your eyes were fixed like glue.
"What thought went flying through your mind, how fared it, Five, with
you?" But Five made answer solemnly, "I heard them fire a gun, "No
other mortal thing I heard until the Race was done.
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There are some things I know I like about the sport. I like waking up in the morning and feeling my whole body ache. I can feel every muscle and know it is there. I know I am alive. On days when I'm doing sprint pieces, I love to feel the lactic acid burn in my legs. Then after a rest, the first few strokes of the next piece feel like a dream as the lactic acid is used up by pushing off the foot stretchers. I could go on, but are these the reasons I, or anyone else rows? No. They are merely the symptoms of the greater love of rowing.
"It's a great art, is rowing. It's the finest art there is. It's a symphony of motion. And when you're rowing well, why it's nearing perfection - and when you reach perfection you're touching the divine. It touches the you of you's which is your soul."
"MCP, maximum controlled pressure. No Tomorrow, no waiting, nothing beyond the moment. We seek the perfect balance: Total chaos on the drive, total control on the recovery."
"Being in shape was not my goal. My body was a tool to test the capabilities of my will."
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"Once one is beyond a certain level of commitment to the sport, life begins to seem an allegory of rowing rather than rowing an allegory of life."
I met a solid rowing friend and asked about the Race.
"How fared it with the wind," I said, "When stroke increased the pace?
You swung it forward mightily, you heaved it greatly back.
Your muscles rose in knotted lumps, I almost heard the crack.
And while we roared and rattled too, your eyes were fixed like glue.
What thought went flying through your mind, how fared it, Five, with you?"
But Five made answer solemnly, "I heard them fire a gun, No other mortal thing I heard until the Race was done."
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"You move forward slowly and then push away quickly, just like when you're shagging a
sheila" - Jacko.
"Imagine the rowing stroke as reaching for your beer on the bar; the forward motion of the stroke is like when your reaching for your beer, once you've got it you pick it up, but only just a little and then bring it back gently but quickly" - Jacko.
"Pain is hammering a nail into your head, Rowing is just physical discomfort." - Olympic Rower and Old Xav Peter Antonie.
"It's not how hard you row, it's how well you row hard."
"Some people dream about greatness, others just get up and row." - Tim
Fredrico.
Who ever said winning isn't everything must have lost.
Life is short ... ROW HARD!
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