Last day of racing - could we do it again??

Sunday July 8 - last day of the championships and our attempt at the 500m

Photo doesn't do it justice, but this was the golden-ness
we woke up to that final morning of racing.

Drummer girl and I woke up to an incredible sky. At 5:30 or so (yes in the morning), there was a distinct golden haze to our room. Mostly the sky wrapped around our corner windows was dark, but above the building to the left of our hotel room was a billowy white cloud backlit by bright gold.

"I like it," I said squinting and stumbling groggily to the bathroom. It's gonna be a golden day!" 

J giggled. "I like your morning comments!"

It was the last day of racing and our toughest distance was on tap first thing. Three back-to-back 500s. We've historically had trouble with that last half...we can kill the start, bang out the first 250-300m, but lose ground on the last 200. This was not going to be easy. But after medaling in every other category so far, I wanted this one even more. We all did. We needed a clean sweep.

"We've trained for this," Coach said. "We've done this back-to-back-to-back in practice too. We are the strongest team here. Be aggressive. Kill it. Go do this." Just as with the other races, as soon as we hit the marshaling area, our faces turned to stone. Complete focus. No more talking, no joking around, no interaction with anyone else. Game faces on. But with even more grit and determination than before. This was it. Our last chance. Our last day. It was all or nothing.

We had lane 7... a great lane! This was a good sign. Relatively calm water. Good for us, good for our steer M, who had been sucked all over that insane course the day prior with the Senior B mixed boat. She had this we told her. No problem. But did I? Did I have the guts for this one?

Our start wasn't our best, our pace a little fast...and we crossed the line second, with a time of 2:09.981. Shit. I immediately regretted the second boiled egg and croissant I'd had at breakfast. I felt sick to my stomach. 

We got off the boat and huddled with coach. He told us what we needed to do. "This is your last race. There is no third race. Don't save anything. Go out there, and effing hammer it." Ok, right. Got it.

I'll say one thing for our team. We're damn good at following instructions. What coach tells us to do, we bloody-well execute. We tore out of the start gate like rabid dogs. Or, as G likes to call it, huskies unleashed. Coach told us to be fierce, and fierce we were. On the transition, we got even fiercer. The focus, power and pure grit were tangible in the air above and around us. That mist you see on the start with really good teams (and I am so happy to be able to say WE ARE A REALLY GOOD TEAM!) stayed with us down that course. In a way it felt easier than the first race. We were so connected, so relaxed in the air, snapping our exits... it all just came together. And when J called the finish... man, we just took off. For each stroke of each series in that finish we surged forward. You know those football or hockey movies when the underdog comes through at the end and just nails it? Ha, we were the movie this time. As with the previous races, the second heat times were a bit slower. But we beat team #2 by almost a full second and-a-half. May not seem like much.. but trust me, it's pretty huge. 

"One more," we said to each other, as we docked the boat and herded ourselves back up the ramp toward our customary huddle with our coach. "One more." Wow. Ok. Focus.

This one's for our families, friends and cheerleaders.
And to those naysayers who said we were nuts and
didn't think we would stick with it- thppppt!
What use is a dream if you don't reach for it?

But when we got back to base, coach was grinning at us like a crazy person. "That WAS your last race, you all didn't believe me but that was it. They're behind, so they've eliminated the third heats for everyone. That was it ladies."

We were stunned. And then he continued. He got emotional. He choked on his words. I was too stunned to remember anything but his last words. "That was dragon boat ART."

Even more stunning was that the dragon boat art we'd pulled off had gained us our third medal of the competition, in that coveted gold color! Some girls screamed, others cried. Me, I don't know where it came from but I went super quiet. Suddenly the whole thing just enveloped me and washed over me. This was it. Done. Over. No more going out in the boats, dancing with the waves, finding the connection. This was the culmination of two years of dreaming, of training, of praying, of pain, anguish, excitement, fit tests, training camps, dinners without us for our families... This was it. I felt drained, out of breath, feint. Give me a moment.. the feeling is coming back...