They say in marriage it is best not to rock the boat, but apparently it’s totally okay to smack your paddle into the water and splash your wife in the face.
And so begins the first team sport the Carpenter and I have attempted together: dragon boats.
When my friend Amy asked me to join her dragon boat team, “Strokes of Genius,” I laughed. She’s athletic; I am not, so I assumed she was kidding. But Amy insisted, “You don’t need to row. You can be the team drummer.” Wait, what? I could cheer and play drums? Snap. I’m in.
The team also needed muscle and the Carpenter needed another excuse to see a chiropractor, so we signed up together. You should know that we are rarely seen in public together and neither of us are “joiners,” so this was a big step out of our mutual comfort zone.
For the first practice, I was out-of-my-element nervous. Bear in mind, I have never yelled at anyone beyond my children, and even they don’t listen. I had no idea what I was doing, yet I instinctively knew I was going to enjoy it.
My son’s former hockey and rugby coaches, school teacher and some of my dearest friends, not to mention my beloved spouse – they were all in this boat. There I sat, at the helm of a 20-person crew, yelling out the counts in unison with the team coach, learning to keep the pace and set the rhythm.
Sure enough, after the first practice, the Carpenter landed in the chiropractor’s office. The pain did not deter him. The dragon boat seemed to light his fire. He had a look in his eye I had forgotten, but was happy to see rekindled. It was the look of competitive spirit, drive and the desire to win. Sexy.
After the second practice, the team was coming together and I was finding my voice. By the third practice, I realized how good this yelling thing was for me. I blew off a lot of steam without hurting anyone’s feelings. It was my job to bark orders. They wanted me to. In fact, they wanted me to yell louder.
Last Saturday was the big race day at Guelph Lake. We were up against experienced teams competing in three 200-metre races and the ultimate challenge: two kilometres. We may not have won, but I am proud to say with each race, we beat our own time, and we beat some strong teams.
The 2km race was intense. We caught up to one boat where the drummer tried psyching us out, swearing at his team. That’s when it all clicked for me. My job was to believe in my team, so they would believe in themselves. From my seat I had the privilege of watching my crew paddle together with such power it was inspiring. I saw the determination on their faces as they pushed themselves beyond their physical limits, united to win. I yelled like I have never yelled in my life, shouting words like “believe” and “you’ve got this.”
The Strokes of Genius didn’t win but we held our own. I now understand the power of adrenaline. Momentum is magic.
Sometimes you have to rock your boat to find your balance. Stepping out of your comfort zone can breathe a little fire into your life.
Paddles up.
Click here for the team photo of Strokes of Genius