Happy Halloween!

Thanks to the end of Daylight Savings Time, the sun was rising at about the same time we were going through the end of our warm-up routine. This won't do; sunrise has been associated with the end of practice and putting food in my stomach since September. We're all Pavlovian dogs, or maybe we're just not used to sunlight. r a Halloween

There was a nice fog on a stretch of the lake we're rowing on (our home river has been washed out due to flooding) this morning, and with the sun coming up, it didn't burn off and we were able to see it. One minute we were doing pieces with another eight about 40 feet away on starboard, and the next thing, all your senses can detect are the slicing of the blades through the water and the motor of the coaches launch. Very spooky, yet apt.

Introduction

I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this blog; I suppose I'll just start writing and let it take it's own course wherever it wants to.

So, a little bit about where I'm coming from: I'm a twentysomething undergraduate at a large college that is in a "suburban setting", according to the Princeton Review. Most of my life revolves around rowing; I've been rowing competitively for the past six years now, the past two for the men's club program at the university.

This blog is more of a reflection of my rowing life, since most of my friends don't really want to hear me talk about crew on my personal blog when they have little or no experience with the sport. I don't expect this to be something that appeals to the average reader, but instead to those of us that know how beautiful a sunrise can be in the early morning, or how uplifting the moment of swing can be during a dismal practice. There is something amazing about crew that can't be found in any other sport, to my knowledge, and I hope that those of you reading this have shared in those experiences and can relate to me when I write about them.