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DIARY OF AN OARSMAN

We row;
fire in our muscles,
salt in our eyes,
wind at our bow,
and sun on our skin.


We burn and burn, until we have nothing more to burn.
We row and row until we can´t row any longer - then we row on.

We row and row beyond the vigor of our bodys until we row only with our hearts.
We row and row beyond the courage of our hearts until we row only with our souls.
We row and row beyond the spirit of our souls - beyond our selves - until we row only with each other.

Each and every stroke is one moment of choice - one choice after the other - we transcend the limits of what was impossible just one stroke before.

You're not the Rutter-man for 13 hours of the journey.
You are not the Rutter-man for 156 hours of training.
You are the Rutter-man in moments.
You are the Rutter-man the moment when you have lost sight of land and still you choose a course.
You are the Rutter-man when, despite absolute exhaustion, you hold the line against the current.
You are the Rutter-man when you have nothing left, but you still give. When you find laughter in tears, find joy in suffering, the will to persevere when others have lost heart.

You aren't the Rutter-man when you think you can't do it, you are the Rutter-man when you do.


C. Hawthorne Flaherty