Where The F*** Is The Finish Line

ROW NEW YORK follow my personal: wishfulthinkingsince95.tumblr.com

[therowinglife]

Rowers with fast legs produce more power on water, while athletes with slower legs and stronger upper bodies have relatively higher ergo scores.

(via therowinglife)

[crewisfunny]

When you have to go somewhere and you can’t wear workout clothes:

[ughsick]

[shameisthenameofthegame-blog]

[rowlikehell]

I'm turning my profile blue for freedom! Please support human trafficking awareness by joining me! #freedom4all http://thndr.it/1eGlNZy

[rowlikehell]

Turn Social Blue for Freedom

I just supported Turn Social Blue for Freedom on @ThunderclapIt

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[itslikecoffee]

If you reblog this before June 1 2015, I will write your URL down and stick it in a jar or whatever. Over the summer I will take the jar of URL’s and I will scatter them around. They may get taped to public loos, they may be thrown into crowds at festivals, or they may get put under napkins at restaurants.

Some one may find your URL, and who knows, they could message you telling you where they found it. 

You have until June 1 to reblog

[matsoukun]

holy shit

[everett-the-dolphin-blog]

Sweet

[i-wenxin]

Sweet indeed

[therowinglife]

[kvellpanna]

[leetlemichelle-blog]

Each rep is essentially a leg press, dead lift and a row. 50 minutes can burn up to 1200 calories which is twice as much as spinning.

This article was in the June/July 2012 issue of Detail magazine. There are classes that you can take on erging! Crazy stuff. 

[coxswaingonerogue]

THIS IS ONLY WHAT ROWERS HAVE BEEN SAYING FOR THE PAST 100 YEARS

not that we’re better than you or anything

[bugzzbunnh-deactivated20241222]

[portsandstars]

[wistful-illusion]

[chicorowingclub-deactivated2017]

worked hard today!

[jayvonsweet]

This should be put in every erg room.

[laurastaceys-deactivated2017070]

[asianbedhead]

cant…..stop….staring

[urbankamikaze]

Every day you wake up. It’s too fucking early. Your body is aching and you’re pretty sure something just cracked that wasn’t supposed to.

But you roll out of bed and throw on a uni you’re pretty sure is clean, grab a pair of mismatched socks and hop in the car.

The only other people on the road are just heading home from the graveyard shift, or just getting home from a party (on a Thursday, how the hell) or maybe are like you and are motivated to test their bodies in the air between late night and very early morning. That’s cool. I guess.

You roll up to your boathouse, turn off your car and grab your stuff. Your phone, your tape, your torn mismatched socks, your shoes that definitely used to be a vibrant and exaggerated color, but now caked in mud and the faint outline of a black strap where you’ve tied onto the erg so many times.

Through every day you work hard. You drip sweat, you grit your teeth, you push hard. And every tenth of a second of improvement is a sweeter reward than a paycheck or christmas.

Yet, sometimes, you get in the boat, find the sweet spot for your torn and raw hands on the oar, and you realize that

it’s a fucking beautiful morning.

I guess the realization is that there’s just not a damn thing you’d rather be doing.