I know how to swim, and I know how to sing. I know how to sit, and I know how to scream. But years of swimming, singing, sitting, and screaming did not prepare me for a five-mile kayak race up the Hudson River this past Sunday. Turns out, you should also know how to row a boat. And have exercised some time in the past seven years.
I even stayed in the night before the race (drinking wine) and when my alarm went off at 9am the next day, I turned over, and hit snooze.
I didn’t hear the alarm go off again, but when I came to, I was sitting in the front of a boat, holding an oar. Confused, I asked what I was supposed to be doing, but everyone just laughed. Which was pretty rude.
And suddenly I was being launched into New York City’s favorite Port-o-Potty, the Hudson River, praying that some grindylow would just crawl over the side of the boat, and I could be disqualified based purely on a ridiculously out-of-place Harry Potter reference.
But no such luck.
My brother was also in the boat – sitting behind me – but I never actually saw him row anything. I’m pretty sure he just sat back there, eating all of our rations, and sharing secrets with Wilson. Meanwhile, I was to left to fend for myself. And no, I don’t care what you heard. I didn’t try to “throw John off the back of the boat.” That’s insane. And also, turns out he’s stronger than me.
I persevered, and John ate sandwiches, and before I knew it, we were winning. And I had lost like, 10 pounds. This was turning out to be the best day of my life!
Tragically, however, right before we reached the shore, John splashed me with Hudson toilet water, and now part of me is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. I won’t tell you which part. It’ll be obvious next time you see me.