My next painting will be about rowing. As I start to recall my rowing experience from the past three years, what jump out of my mind are miserable memories of workouts on the erg, full of exhaustions and pains. All the curses I had during those pieces are still vivid in my mind. I wonder why I have stayed in rowing even though I hate it so much. However, looking at where I end up right now, I am delighted.

I started my rowing career in my freshmen year, a week after the spring season started. Before that, I was in the tennis team. And one day I heard a coxswain shouting as I was passing by hoyt. I looked at the wake made of the varsity boat gliding through the water glistening in the sunlight. It was quite something at that point of my life. I admired the powerful lines reflected in the water from the four oars on each side and the elegantly patterned vigorous rowing paces of the crew. I got a vicarious feeling of myself sitting in that boat and rowing under the sun set.

I still remember the sunrise when I was in my boat on water at 5 A.M. It was never the same view from the land. All pains were superficial at that moment. I felt so honored and proud to be an oarsman.

First thing is the first. I would first like to reveal how miserable erging can be.