The picture says it all!

As we crossed the finish line of the big race, six breathless women turned, as one, to look behind and confirm what we were all hardly daring to think; there were more boats behind us than in front.   What.  A.  Sight.   I’m not ashamed to admit we were reduced to tears, and Zeus got more than a few loving strokes from her grateful crew; she is part of our team.   

That was the exact moment it began – the deep down stillness and focus that comes from the realisation that the secret dreams fuelling all the gruelling practice and training may well be made reality over the next two days.  All the conversation went out of me for the rest of the weekend.

 Our first heat – despite the manic, panicky, technique bereft rowing style – somehow saw us go up.  I repeat, go up -  into group D – the first ever Calstock team to do this.  And the real glory was that we were in a position higher than all the boys. 

 Our second heat saw us locked in a ferocious battle, and though we came up a place, we dropped a group.

 Rowing out to our final, the boat was silent.  All the customary banter and joking forgotten, replaced by that simple g-dunk dunk of the oars in the pins, as the full weight of the task at hand over the coming few minutes descended upon us.  I felt sick.

 Our final saw a truly extraordinary moment – Adam shouted.  He shouted so hard we all knew the race could actually be ours - the first race we would ever have won.  Joker (Yealm) wanted it as badly as us; the stroke side could see it, but us on the bow had to trust to Adam’s word.  Every tissue, every thought in my  body was focussed and attuned to one purpose – pulling my oar as hard and as perfectly in time with Pam’s as I could.  Pulling my oar harder and better than all those women in Joker.  This must be what war feels like.  A totally selfish desire to win overcame me; I felt it possess us all.  The pain went, the doubt went, the fear went, and I found energy coming from places inside me that I never knew existed.   All driven away by that one desire. 

And then the cheering started.   We were sure on the line – as was Joker when they saluted us – tears came and we punched the air, only for doubt to suddenly crowd over us.  Until that tiny name that means so much to us all appeared on the score boards – Zeus.  First. Group E -  only then were we sure.

 Being called up onto that podium to the sounds of Mission Impossible– the podium at the World Championships that is – I have no recollection of anything but those people up there with me: Adam, Pam, Lee, Judith, Sophie, Kirstin.  The crew who earned and bought Calstock’s first gig trophy home. 

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PHOTO BY LEY ROBERTS

We’ve come a long way, us ladies.  And I’m proud of us all.