wake up
alright. i'll back tim up. take it from someone who's been there.
to the jc1s:
i used to be worse than many of you. couldn't do 30 girls pushups in a row. couldn't do situps without someone to hold my feet. dropped out of every single run for 4 months straight, coming in nearly 5 minutes after everybody else was done. couldn't do more than 25 jumping jacks before just standing there and refusing to move. fell during hanging countless times.
not just physically. if you ask the other senior girls, they might tell you that they were the weakest mentally, but i personally feel that that title rightfully belonged to me as a jc1 last year. i sincerely doubt that there hasn't been a single thing you guys have done this year which i haven't done. dropped while hanging? yes. dropped out of a run? yes. came late for training? yes. lied during pushups and situps? yes. lied during runs? yes. damaged boats? yes. not been humble? yes. broke down during training? yes. cried when i couldn't row my best? yes. the list goes on.
so why am i telling you all this? it's not something a j2 would want to admit to. the memories are painful. the scars will never go away.
i'm telling you all this because i've been in the pit. and i'm alive. and i'm still going on.
yes, its hard to push. it's hard to bite down and plough ahead when you feel every muscle in your arms and shoulders transform into hot wire. it's hard to keep your head down and your butt up and your knees straight when the only thing you want to do is collapse and lie there. it's hard to wipe the lines of exhaustion off your face. it's hard to listen to some distant voice scream at you and tell you that your form stinks, and all you want to do is to make that voice shut up and go away. but its possible.
it all starts with this. the day you stop fearing the pain is the day you will win. you're chasing a shadow cast by the light behind you. you keep running and you don't catch up, because the shadow is always ahead. so what do you do when you've run this far and there's nothing but the dry air burning your lungs away, every fibre in your body stretched tight and twanging?
you turn. you turn to the light and walk towards it. the shadow meekly follows you. only then do you realise that the only person you were fighting was yourself, and that you had everything under your thumb. all you had to do was change direction.
junior guys, junior girls, and some of us seniors too, wake up. i'll say it again. wake up.
the seniors won't be here to remind you forever. wake up. have faith in yourself. tell yourself that you can do anything you set your mind to. it's only you fighting yourself, your own inner demon. but you can't let the demon win. the lactic acid will not beat you down. rise up. take control. if the others tell you that you suck, prove them wrong. take their words and shove it back down their throats. show them what you're made of.
if you feel like crap, just raise your head and look around. we're all doing this shit together. if one, just one of you gives in, how will that make the others feel? cheated, no doubt. angry that you're being selfish, that you just think about your own aching arms and you don't give two bits of shit that they did their sets for you. but even if you don't care about them, do it for yourself. because if you give up, if you lie about that one pushup, if your knees hit the grass for that hang, if you lag behind for that run, you will never know if you could have done it. you will leave and sit and wonder if you could have. in the darkness of your heart, when you've come back from a race and missed your goal by just that tiny bit, you will sit there and wonder. and you will cry.
if you still don't give a shit, then i'll say this. get out. i don't like being mean. i hate hurting other people. but i will not sit here and let you bring down this club which i've put so much of myself into. i will kill you before you do. we've told you, as long as you try your very best, nobody will blame you. as long as you don't give up.
if you sit in your chair and think "oh, but that's just the seniors, they're used to it", i'll say this back. how do you think we got here? how do you think i made it to where i am today? granted, i am not perfect. i am a long way from being the rower i would love to be. my running still stinks, my situps are still weak. but i used to be where you guys were. no, i was lower. but i made it. you can too.
you're not alone. nobody ever is. take courage from those beside you. i can safely say that every member of the senior team would die for each other. why? because no matter what happens, we don't give up on each other. we stick by each other when we all feel like dying a thousand times over. don't just believe in yourself, believe in the one next to you. i told the girls before every dragonboat race: row for the girl next to you, the girl in front of you, the girl behind you. the power of that statement, of what happens when you all truly forget your own suffering and live for others, i leave open for judgement.
juniors. wake up.
to the jc1s:
i used to be worse than many of you. couldn't do 30 girls pushups in a row. couldn't do situps without someone to hold my feet. dropped out of every single run for 4 months straight, coming in nearly 5 minutes after everybody else was done. couldn't do more than 25 jumping jacks before just standing there and refusing to move. fell during hanging countless times.
not just physically. if you ask the other senior girls, they might tell you that they were the weakest mentally, but i personally feel that that title rightfully belonged to me as a jc1 last year. i sincerely doubt that there hasn't been a single thing you guys have done this year which i haven't done. dropped while hanging? yes. dropped out of a run? yes. came late for training? yes. lied during pushups and situps? yes. lied during runs? yes. damaged boats? yes. not been humble? yes. broke down during training? yes. cried when i couldn't row my best? yes. the list goes on.
so why am i telling you all this? it's not something a j2 would want to admit to. the memories are painful. the scars will never go away.
i'm telling you all this because i've been in the pit. and i'm alive. and i'm still going on.
yes, its hard to push. it's hard to bite down and plough ahead when you feel every muscle in your arms and shoulders transform into hot wire. it's hard to keep your head down and your butt up and your knees straight when the only thing you want to do is collapse and lie there. it's hard to wipe the lines of exhaustion off your face. it's hard to listen to some distant voice scream at you and tell you that your form stinks, and all you want to do is to make that voice shut up and go away. but its possible.
it all starts with this. the day you stop fearing the pain is the day you will win. you're chasing a shadow cast by the light behind you. you keep running and you don't catch up, because the shadow is always ahead. so what do you do when you've run this far and there's nothing but the dry air burning your lungs away, every fibre in your body stretched tight and twanging?
you turn. you turn to the light and walk towards it. the shadow meekly follows you. only then do you realise that the only person you were fighting was yourself, and that you had everything under your thumb. all you had to do was change direction.
junior guys, junior girls, and some of us seniors too, wake up. i'll say it again. wake up.
the seniors won't be here to remind you forever. wake up. have faith in yourself. tell yourself that you can do anything you set your mind to. it's only you fighting yourself, your own inner demon. but you can't let the demon win. the lactic acid will not beat you down. rise up. take control. if the others tell you that you suck, prove them wrong. take their words and shove it back down their throats. show them what you're made of.
if you feel like crap, just raise your head and look around. we're all doing this shit together. if one, just one of you gives in, how will that make the others feel? cheated, no doubt. angry that you're being selfish, that you just think about your own aching arms and you don't give two bits of shit that they did their sets for you. but even if you don't care about them, do it for yourself. because if you give up, if you lie about that one pushup, if your knees hit the grass for that hang, if you lag behind for that run, you will never know if you could have done it. you will leave and sit and wonder if you could have. in the darkness of your heart, when you've come back from a race and missed your goal by just that tiny bit, you will sit there and wonder. and you will cry.
if you still don't give a shit, then i'll say this. get out. i don't like being mean. i hate hurting other people. but i will not sit here and let you bring down this club which i've put so much of myself into. i will kill you before you do. we've told you, as long as you try your very best, nobody will blame you. as long as you don't give up.
if you sit in your chair and think "oh, but that's just the seniors, they're used to it", i'll say this back. how do you think we got here? how do you think i made it to where i am today? granted, i am not perfect. i am a long way from being the rower i would love to be. my running still stinks, my situps are still weak. but i used to be where you guys were. no, i was lower. but i made it. you can too.
you're not alone. nobody ever is. take courage from those beside you. i can safely say that every member of the senior team would die for each other. why? because no matter what happens, we don't give up on each other. we stick by each other when we all feel like dying a thousand times over. don't just believe in yourself, believe in the one next to you. i told the girls before every dragonboat race: row for the girl next to you, the girl in front of you, the girl behind you. the power of that statement, of what happens when you all truly forget your own suffering and live for others, i leave open for judgement.
juniors. wake up.
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