Imagine yourself on a beautiful midsummer day, sitting in a boat with eight of the fastest rowers in the country. You paddle up to the start line of a National level race, wearing a uni that has an American flag embroidered on the back. You get staked into the start, take a deep breath; and fly. The whole boat jumps off the start line, everybody is in perfect sync. The force behind each stroke is heavy, the water gliding past you as you move at a pace that makes your legs tear with each stroke. You look at the person in front of you, and you stare at that American flag, and whisper to yourself “U. S. A”. You hear the horn, and it’s over. Six minutes and fifty seven seconds, that’s all it took for us to reach 2000 meters.
This was my dream, and it took me blood sweat and tears to make it happen. Coming from a small recreational team, I had the bare minimum to work with, but I took it for all it could offer. Training six days a week, I tore my body up day in and day out. It wasn’t easy, I would cry and lose faith in myself but I constantly picked myself back up and reminded myself exactly what I wanted. I trained for three months before I went to an Identification camp for the USRowing Junior National team where I had to do a 2k erg piece and row on the water. I sat in that room, surrounded by girls who all had the same dream as me and I had to prove that I was the best. I began that piece, and started to fly. I pushed out a personal best that day, and even got the national coaches attention as she stood behind me for more than half of my piece. I spent the next two months training, checking my email every day to see if I was selected. Weeks went by without any sign, making me feel defeated. As I got ready to lift after school, I got an email. As I read it I started crying. I cried of joy, exhaustion and relief. I had been selected to be a part of the High Performance Camp for the