
We put our blades in, sat down in the boat and before we even took a stroke were giddy with excitement. One stroke, two strokes, three...it was like getting into an old worn saddle that at first seems unfamiliar but starts to fit very quickly. I'm sure we've lost a lot of speed since that memorable day, but it felt like home. It felt like how I imagine an old grey couple to feel when they sit on their porch, sipping tea in silence; no need for words, no need to try too hard, just being yourself. Rowing is wonderfully unique that way because if you have a partner that is willing and able to listen, you can speak to them with your blade. Now to save myself from getting uber cheesy, there was really no point to writing this blog, but I felt it was worth mentioning that WE'RE BACK! There's work to do, but we ain't going no where. The Brits, the Greeks, the Germans aren't getting it easy cause the Canadians know how to ride!
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