Back on the Water!

At long last, I'm back rowing on the water! After spending the past three months in the gym on a rowing machine, I had my first row in a quad this morning.

What a joy it was to, once again, enjoy the beauty of the sunrise and the sights, sounds and smells of Long Island Sound. I felt like a butterfly emerging out of its chrysalis or a bear coming out of hibernation. Rowing outdoors again was like a rebirth. The photo above is of two of my rowing buddies on the Sound.

However, it was because of the hours spent erging during the winter months that I was able to enjoy rowing. Without this winter conditioning, I would have been huffing and puffing for our 50 minute row, and end up exhausted afterwards.

I've found that for every week you don't exercise, it takes the same amount of time to get back to the same level of fitness. I believe this same concept applies to our spiritual fitness. When we are doing those things that nourish our souls in a disciplined, regular way, we put ourselves in a position to experience deep joy and gratitude when it comes.

Like a muscle, the soul becomes stronger and more resilient with exercise. The question we each need to answer for ourselves is: what "exercises" my soul?

A Fellowship of Suffering

During the winter months I meet some fellow rowers at 6:30 a.m. four times a week to work out on rowing machines. These machines, called "ergometers," are calibrated so that we know how many meters we row and how hard/fast we're doing it. The photo on the right is of a Concept2 ergometer, the kind that we use.

After a 5 minute warm-up, we row for 45 minutes. By the end of this hour, we are usually tired and sometimes exhausted. However, the tiredness is temporary because the endorphins soon kick in, giving us a feeling of well-being. We vary our workouts so that we don't become bored and some of them are extremely demanding.

I find that I work out longer and harder when I'm with this fellowship of suffering. The word "suffering" applies because rowing is grueling work. I usually burn over 600 calories during these workouts and am left gasping for breath at their conclusion.

There is a spiritual dimension to nearly every kind of physical activity, but working out with others helps connect us in a different way than working out solo. The word "compassion" means "to suffer with" and there is plenty of empathy in our group. We encourage each other and that helps bring out our best performance. The fellowship continues most mornings as we go to breakfast together.

Fund-Raising, Fitness and Fun

On Saturday, I participated in the "Norwalk Row for the Cure" regatta. It was an enjoyable day of rowing, friendly competition and fund-raising for the Susan G. Komen Foundation, an organization that supports breast cancer research.

This was the rowing version of "Race for the Cure" events that have been held throughout the U.S. over the past decade. These events blend fitness, fund-raising and fun for a very important cause. Since the Row for the Cure was on Halloween, many rowers wore costumes. There were zombies, witches, fairies and aliens. This enhanced the fun atmosphere.

Although there is no publicly stated spiritual purpose in the Race for the Cure events, I believe they are implicitly spiritual. First, they bring people together around common values of compassion and empathy. Secondly, they aim at bringing about something that benefits humanity. Thirdly, they have a spirit of camaraderie and even fellowship as people rally around a common purpose. Finally, they encourage fitness.

I would encourage everyone to participate in these kind of events. You will leave feeling better about yourself, and about your fellow humans.

Rowing in the Dark

For the past several weeks, our rowing workouts have been in the dark when we begin at 5:30 a.m. Today, with sunrise at 7:11 a.m., we started and ended in the dark (although it was a lighter predawn when we finished at 6:50).

There is an element of danger in rowing in the dark, mainly that of crashing. There are many obstacles to be avoided: rocks, buoys, docks and (especially) other boats. Although we have bow and stern lights on our boats, there are are multitude of lights that make it difficult to distinguish between an oncoming boat and a light on the shore.

Rowing in the dark requires trust. First, you need to trust the coach near you in a launch to tell you when you're steering off course. Secondly, you need to trust the person steering in the bow (in the case of a double or quad) or the coxswain (in the case of a four or eight) to not crash.

Rowing is a sport that teaches trust and reliance on others. Even when rowing in daylight, you must have faith in your crewmates (that they are rowing hard and well) for a boat to go fast.

The trust needed in rowing is a good analogy for life. To enjoy a full and fulfilled life, we must develop trust in those persons we are close to and rely upon. Sometimes, we need to be able to trust strangers (as in the case of flying on an airplane). For much of life is lived in the "dark" where we can't see the way ahead clearly.

Soul On Water

Yesterday at 6 a.m. I rowed a single shell out into Long Island Sound. Despite the warm and muggy weather, it was a soul-feeding experience. I witnessed a glorious sunrise; saw Canadian geese, swans, cormorants and herons; dodged two large oyster harvesting boats; and got a great workout. The photo on the right is an eight-man shell and I'm second from the top (bow).

I started rowing in 1990, nearly 20 years ago. My friend, Phil, taught me how to scull (rowing with two oars) and I was hooked! Since then, I have rowed competitively all over the world. Rowing is one of the most demanding sports I've ever enjoyed. It requires a very high level of fitness. To keep in shape, I row an average of 4 times/week for an hour.

My rowing club is on the Norwalk River, which admittedly is not the most scenic river in Connecticut. Upriver there is a cement plant that spews noxious smoke and a sewage plant that leaks effluent (steam rises off the plant’s spillage in colder weather). One of the busiest interstates, I-95 crosses the river and provides continuous traffic noise. Despite these deficiencies there is beauty; the Norwalk River flows into the Norwalk harbor and Long Island Sound, both of which are lovely and scenic areas filled with sailboats, light houses, small islands and parks along the shore.

Rowing out into Long Island Sound, especially at sunrise (our weekday practices begin at 5:30 a.m., allowing us the privilege of seeing many sunrises), is still thrilling. Nearly every time we stop in the Sound to turn around to row back, someone proclaims, “What a morning!” Watching the sun peek over the horizon and signal the beginning of a new day is a glorious, soul-enriching moment.