June 1, 2009
The Seattle Pacific women's varsity eight crew competed May 29-31 at the 2009 NCAA Division II Rowing Championships on the Cooper River in Cherry Hill, N.J. Members of the SPU crew contributed rowing reports to keep you updated on their journey to the NCAA Championships. This is the last of those blog entries, from senior Rachel Savage.
Hi, this is Rachel,
It's hard to believe yesterday was the last day of my collegiate rowing career—my last time wearing that lovely uni, feeling so nervous I have to visit the Porta-Johns four times before 9 a.m., my last time sitting ready at the line, hamstrings shaking, waiting for the official to say, “Attention. Go!”
I did my best to savor all the lasts, but when it comes down to it, a race in the Grand Final at Nationals feels ridiculously similar to other races. You just row what you know, putting one stroke together after another, feeling the rhythm and the flow and catching together.
There was the same exhilaration in the first 250 meters as we were neck-and- neck with three other crews and their screaming coxswains, the same tension as the other crews appeared and disappeared in our peripheral vision, the same exhaustion in the third 500, and the same thrill of the final sprint, when our stroke rate and speed increased to match the intensity of our coxswain's (Annie Multer) voice, calling out our position relative to the other crews: “You're two seats back on Mercyhurst. Come on! We're leaving Philadelphia in the dust! You've got this! This is what you've trained for!”
Then, just over the finish line, I experienced my typical post-race death. It goes sort of like this: lean-forward and rock while gasping, then lean back, tip my head back to open my airways and attempt to slow my heart rate below 250 beats/minute, then half-gasp, half-motion Annie to hand me my water bottle, which she so kindly carries for me.
All that being said, I did feel different yesterday. I had a sense of all the people surrounding us in support, and I found a place of peace and contentment unlike before. I just knew that regardless of our outcome, it would be okay. There was nothing to lose. In my past four years, we had never advanced this far before: we had already qualified for nationals, qualified for the grand final, and set personal records for speed as a boat-- anything more would be bonus.
Of course it was my deepest desire to win—since coach put me in stroke seat sophomore year I have become increasingly competitive—but I was proud to be a part of the next step for SPU crew. Coming in third place in nation is nothing to be ashamed of.
I can't pick out anything I would have done differently in my final race, and there is no one I would rather have done it with.
I wish I could convey how special these women are that I get to be on a team with. We have just about every personality type, body type, major and age represented, but we fit together like a happy, misfit family.
During the awards ceremony I had to smile to myself when I saw Western Washington up on the platform. They looked so uniform compared to us. I looked at my photo of our team, whom
Emily Pitts and I have decided to nickname, the “Motley Crew.” Our heights range from powerhouse little Holly at 5'3”, to towering Pitts, at 6'1/2”. My coxswain is as tall as I am, and we rarely all match, unless we are down to our unis. Western looks like a bunch of hand-picked bananas; they are the same size and shape, and they just fit together perfectly.
But I love us for being us. We have a total of 11 women on our team, so while big teams have to pick and choose who gets to be in the final bunch, we just bring our whole team.
Unity is our strength, and that unity stems from the intimacy of having a small team, joined by the same purpose, the same God, and the same ridiculous motivation to push our bodies to the limit day after day. We defied the odds, and proved to the nation and ourselves that the quality of the individuals, not quantity is what matters.
--
Rachel Savage
