I guess because I can. My goodness, the boathouse where I work sits right on the shore of the lake, and the water, especially this morning, beckons. So, no excuses.
But more importantly because of what I gain. Not just greater strength and controlled breathing. It wasn’t long ago that one trip around the island, a half-mile, was exhausting. This morning I rowed seven miles and could have gone on and on. That’s because of the third reason.
I’m out there. No one else was. Just me. No ever-present coach observing; no launch exhaust belching; not one, absolutely none, disturbance at all.
No sound. Just the rhythmic breathing; the whoosh of the blades in the water; the rollers on the seat slow on the recovery, faster on the drive.
And what’s really cool? Not a ripple. For seven miles, not a ripple. Not one. Glass. And the best part about that is the tight little whirlpools of water left by the exiting oars, connected on both sides of the stern by the gentle skipping of the blades creating pearls on a string linking it all together as far as I can see in my wake, the rising sun sparkling on every one. Like diamonds.
What an incredible morning. What a great day to be alive.
You paint a lovely picture with words, one that I recognize from long ago. Happy rowing and solitude on glorious days.