Highs and Lows of Sport

With all sport, not just rowing, you can experience serious highs and serious lows. Perhaps the biggest difference for me with rowing is I’ve experienced a lot more lows, and yet for some reason have stayed dedicated to the sport.

When I was younger I swam competitively and quite frankly I got used to winning, or at least placing. There was no doubt that I would be selected to compete at a gala in any event I chose (bar breaststroke, the stroke of the devil). Often I was relied on in relays to ensure we would at least come 3rd no matter our standing when it was finally my time to race. The reason I quite swimming was because I got bored. At 12 years old I’d got bored of winning in the pool. I was also in that strange middle ground where you could start getting called up to try and compete at a higher level but for some reason that wasn’t enough to urge me on. I got to the top of my group and then had no intention of trialling for the step above.

After swimming I became sedentary. Still competitive in P.E lessons yet outside of this I had little drive to do anything else. Until I played hockey. A new fire was lit and playing hockey for my school was fun. Perhaps because a lot of the time we won, but only by a bit. We were never good enough to play at regional level, but at district level it was fun in that we progressed far enough to feel awesome and then didn’t have to bother with travelling far away for bigger matches. How horrifically lazy was that approach to competition? But because of that even my losses didn’t feel like lows.

Basketball at Keele University was full of losing. Whilst I played for Keele we just missed out on a top 3 place in our division, but because we didn’t actually come last…hey it felt like a victory. Partnered with the fact we absolutely obliterated Staffordshire University at our annual varsity match and hey…I was still on a high.

Now. Roll on rowing. I have persevered with this sport now, in some form, for almost 6 years. Although I have only really been competing the last 2.5/3. Erg tests produces extreme highs and extreme lows. Regattas produce the same. Head races…I still haven’t figured out head races! But my point is that when I hit a low with rowing, such as an abysmal erg test, I can shut down for the rest of the day. I can burst into tears and spend hours hating myself and beating myself up. A lost race in a regatta is frustrating because all you can think about is the hours you’ve poured into preparing for those 8 minutes.

Yet for some reason I’ve kept rowing. Despite how badly the lows affect me, I’ve kept at it. I’m not sure what that says about our sport compared to others, but I think it highlights why as a group we’re made of some tough stuff. Yes I got upset when I lost a match, but not to the extremes as when I mess up an ergo. In the same respects I also don’t think I’ve ever felt that extreme high. I loved winning swimming galas, but I don’t remember feeling the same sheer elation as when I got a 1 second PB on the ergo last Saturday.

I’m not sure 100% what the point of this post was! Basically, us rowers are a bunch of masochist and you know what… we should be proud of what we put ourselves through physically and emotionally.

Natalie X