“Ella, you should join the crew team.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Mom, I want Ella to join the crew team.”
“I don't want to.”
“Ella, mom said she signed you up for crew.”

My older sister, Kaylee, was on the crew team all four years of high school, so when my freshman year rolled around she made it her goal to get me to join as well. She begged me to row for the Fox Chapel crew team, but in my reluctant little sister way, I wanted to define a completely separate high school experience from my older brother and sister who had always dictated what shows I would watch, what activities I would participate in, and how I got to spend my free time. I started to get mad at Kaylee’s constant efforts, pleading for me to do a sport I knew absolutely nothing about.
I could see the joy that Kaylee got from crew. Whenever she got home from practice she would go on twenty minute rants about her lineups and teammates, I could tell how much delight the team was bringing her. By the pep in her step and the twinkle in her eyes, I could see that this was what made her happy, it was her true calling, but I was on the field hockey team and I loved that, it brought me joy.

It took plenty of convincing on her part but eventually, Kaylee got my mom to sign me up for a season of crew behind my back. I went to my first practice, during the pandemic, where I was sent out on the water all alone to fend for myself, in a single boat, weighing a grand total of only forty pounds. I was so scared. My face was flushed, my hands were shaking, and with each gust of wind I thought I was going to throw up into the already disgusting Allegheny river. It was a windy fall day, the trees were shaking and the leaves were falling. The brisk air brought a sense of fear, one in which I had never felt before. As I got in the boat, the current of the frigid water slowly pulled me away from the dock. I had no idea what I was doing, and as I floated all the way across the river I became paralyzed with anxiety. I waited for my coach, Doctor Bellinger, to give me directions. Something, anything at all to help me gain an understanding of how to save myself from this nightmare. In the time it took for him to speak I could've driven all the way home, put on my favorite cozy pajamas, and cuddled up under my warm blankets and felt safe again. Well maybe it only was a few seconds but it felt like an eternity before I heard his voice in the distance yelling "Use your right oar!" from the security of the solid ground.

As desperation crept up, I dipped my right ore in and out of the water in rapid succession but it did nothing. I screamed back “It’s not working!”

At this point, he was getting frustrated and shouted, “YOUR OTHER RIGHT!”

I didn’t know what he wanted me to do. I was stuck in the middle of the Allegheny River, and my coach wasn’t helping, I was petrified. I kept trying and failing, with every stroke through the ice cold water my boat was drifting further and further away from Dr. B. I touched my cheek and felt tears streaming down, a panic attack was setting in. My breathing was short and heavy, my heart racing faster, a part of me was resenting Kaylee for even suggesting this in the first place. Seconds turned into hours, in a last ditch effort to calm myself down I remembered the meditation practice my mom preaches. "Think about all 5 senses from your happy place" my mom would tell me when I had panic attacks near her. So I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I smelled the brisk wind of the beach my grandparents live on. I tasted the salty ocean air. I listened to my cousins laughing and playing and I felt the sand underneath my palms. I remembered how to relax and focus back into what mattered, getting back to safety. I opened my eyes and slowly pulled my right ore towards my body, then my left, and then both. Next thing I knew I was touching the dock and Dr. B pulled my boat out of the water and I walked back to the boathouse. I DID IT!

When practice was over my dad came to pick me up. The second I got in the car, I began hysterically crying. As we pulled into the driveway I started contemplating how I would tell Kaylee. I had tears rolling down my cheeks and as I looked into Kaylee's eyes I saw the same love of crew that made me go to practice that day. It broke my heart to tell her that I would never go back and that I hated it. She responded, “Ella, go back tomorrow and try again. Now you know what not to do so the only other option is what to do. You will love it I promise. The first day is hard but it gets better.”
I unwillingly listened and went back the next day, and the day after that. Somehow, three years later, I am driving to practice thrilled as ever to get in my forty pound boat and row into uncharted territory. If you ask me today to close my eyes and imagine my happy place in five senses, I would say that I smell the stench of the goose poop, I feel the blisters covering my hands, I hear the groans coming from my teammates fighting with everything in them, I taste the backsplash of gross river water, but most importantly, I see a strong group of 8 women and myself crossing the finish line at nationals in first place and I see the pride on my sister's face when I smile and say "Thank you for introducing me to my happy place".