I am not only an SED fitting enthusiast, but also a rower. Yes, I’m aware that makes me unbearable in at least two different ways.
How do you know if someone rows? They will tell you about it. Probably while foam rolling their quads.
I started rowing during my master’s, four times a week in W1 at Hughes Hall, thinking I had already peaked—rowing with the most wonderful crew, in what felt like the golden age of my moderately average rowing career. Fast forward, and now I’m captain of the Jesus College Women’s Side, which has slowly absorbed every remaining part of my personality. (Apart from the part that bakes sourdough, because that’s a genuinely useful skill—for crew pasta nights, carbo-loading rituals, and most importantly, buying the love and forgiveness of my rowers.)
Between running outings, writing boat club emails that sound far too professional for what they are, and quietly judging everyone’s blade work, I really do love all my rowers and can not imagine anything nicer than ramming Caius with my boat, and then holding hands with my crew while jumping over a dramatically burning boat in the Jesus College park.