Personal Narrative: Vignette

Vignette #1: The Start “Women’s Novice Recreational 4 Flight 1. Lane 1, Upper Arlington...” As the sound of the announcer calling our team roughly breaks the calm silence of the busy Ann Arbor lake, the light click of our oar locks can be heard as the four of us squares our blades in the green-blue water together. In the shallow water, the sight of brown algae snaking along the bottom and the peeling black and yellow paint on the end of our oars welcomes our eyes. We sit relaxed in the black carbon fiber shell of the Camilla, our sharp eyes analyzing every movement of the other boats while the sun’s scorching rays beat down on our tan shoulders and the reflective surface of the still lake. As we wait for the race to begin, the aroma

Gradually, the four of us begin to lightly paddle and weigh enough. The slightly metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as our hearts continue pounding in a loud, rapid rhythm, straining from the short, but intense sprint. We glance out of the boat to see the other two boats in our flight tangled up in each other. Somehow, the boats had managed to run into each other and their oars were stuck together in a tangle of bright flashing colors. As a race official speeds towards the two shells in a gleaming metal launch, Aurora directs us back towards the start dock. “Stern pair, back it. We’ve got a good amount of the course to go so let’s make it quick.” Two soft plops can be heard as Zoe and Elena gently drop their blades into the disturbed water and strain as they push their worn handles away from them. While we start back up the race course, once again, the sweet sickly scent of rotting fruit and charred meat surrounds us we pass by the shiny, silver docks. With the adrenaline starting to slowly fade away, I tiredly look out and watch my blade hypnotically bounce up and down on the small wake dancing by the sides of the