Summer Eights


This time of year everything fades into the background; when all the hours spent on the river and the erg must be converted into bumps; when eating becomes obsessive; when hundreds of students feel, for a few minutes only, that the universe revolves around them.

It is the feeling of listening to your own heartbeat as you count down the seconds to what will inevitably feel like a controlled demolition of your lungs, legs, arms, and back.

Luckily, ‘my’ boat is blessed with some very mean machines in the engine room and a skilled captain on the bridge.

It is, of course, pure pleasure.

Picture courtesy of Anu Dudhia.

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