Although an athlete’s career is marked with great victories, heartbreaking upsets, and tears shed due to glory and defeat, there is always one memorable moment that surpasses all others. For me this moment came during the summer of 2003 at the weeklong rowing festival, the Royal Canadian Henley. Our boat, with the Vesper Boat Club, had been preparing for this moment all summer long. Sitting at the starting line with 4 minutes to go, my mind was already racing. Did I forget anything? Did I remember to pee? Am I thirsty? Did I even get to stretch? I was nervous as hell but somewhat calmed when I recalled the countless hours of work that had gotten us this far. Earlier in the week our crew was victorious in two similar events, the Senior “A” 8+ and Senior “B” 8+. But could we pull it off again? This event had much stiffer competitors. I looked to my left, then to my right to check out the field. Our biggest challenge, in lane 1, was situated farthest right: the Canadian national team’s second boat. These were the athletes, some of whom were former Olympians, who did not make the Canadian national team’s boat for the 2003 World Championships. They appeared totally unmoved by this insignificant race that they were expected to win easily. Why was I even here? No, this was no time for questions; the task at hand was to win. Plain and simple.

I was sitting in bow seat and looked ahead at my teammates. Seeing this amazing group of athletes before me, I realized that this was probably the fastest crew of rowers I had ever sat with in one boat. Going down the lineup in my head, I knew with no question in my mind that we could win this. Yes, we were going to win.

The referee made the last announcement to sit ready. I straightened up, took a deep breath, and sat in position to take the first stroke. My palms were sweaty on the rubber grips of the oar. No time to be nervous, let’s do it. “Attention. Go!” Our boat started slow off the line. Ten strokes into it we were already down half a boat length to the Canadians. Our coxswain encouraged us to keep our composure and focus on ourselves. The crews around us seemed to go by in a blur. No time to panic, this is your race…Take it. As we approached the first 500 meters of the 2000 meter race, we were losing to the Canadians by a boat length. We had moved back on the other crews, but when I glanced to my right, I couldn’t even see the Canadian boat. How bad do you want this? Show them how badly you want it. Our ‘move,’ when we apply an extra spurt of power, was coming up at the 900 meter mark. We would have to move back on them at that moment if there was any chance for us to win this. Yes, here it comes, 900 meters down… we move now. Ten strokes high followed by ten strokes hard. We were gaining more and more distance between us and the other crews. Keeping the momentum of our move, I could see that we had walked back on the Canadian boat. I could see their white boat out of the corner of my eye. Keep your cool, keep your composure. This is where we take them. Our coxswain reinforced our will to win. It’s going to take everything you have, but you can do this. With 500 meters to go, there was only half a boat length of a lead between us and the Canadians. Inch by inch we closed the gap between us and them. We were going to have to start the sprint early to push ahead for the lead. My heart was at maximum exertion and my lungs could barely keep up. My legs burned from the lactic acid that was building up in them, but the adrenaline rush of moving on a national team crew flushed out all pain. If we could pull this off, this was going to be the win of a lifetime.

I could hear the cheers of the fans in the grandstands and so I knew the finish line was near. From my position in the bow we looked completely even. I was going to have to push that much harder to get ahead. One loud beep quickly followed by another indicated that the race was finally over. It was a close one. Confusion ensued since neither boat knew for sure who was the victor. The judge on shore pointed to our boat and nodded. We did it! Yes, we won! Our coxswain let out a loud whoop, and our entire boat cheered. Some of us splashed water, while others were too drained to even move. But it didn’t matter what we did at this point, since we had just had the most amazing victory of our lives. In just 6 minutes and 24 seconds our Vesper team wrote history by pulling such an amazing upset. Our coach, who had been standing at the 600 meter mark, had already planned his “it’s ok, they were a better crew” speech. Thankfully, no such speech was necessary. Although I have since earned more medals, some more coveted than others, the one that I won in the Champion 8+ that summer is the one that stays closest to my heart.