One stroke

I can't live without that one stroke.

The one stroke in the water where the eight of us find our swing,

Where the eight of us find our power. 

It's like magic. It's like the wind. It's a fleeting yet unforgettable moment of ecstacy.   

We are together. Though we are pushing our millions of cells to their physical capacity, we are doing it together. 

Together. One entity. One machine. 

Rowing is like a perpetual ladder. We climb until our legs burn but are never satisfied. 

We are climbing to reach perfection. We are on a journey to heaven.

How can I give that up?