I miss this.

Today is one of those perfect fall days that make my heart ache with memory. It's not too hot, it's not too cold. As a rower, you don't expect this weather in November. In November, you expect snow. Some days though, it's nice. You wear shorts, maybe a long-sleeve t-shirt. The sun feels good on your face. The air is still, quiet. The water barely moves. The coxswain doesn't yell too loud; the fall season is over. Days like today are gravy, dessert; they're another day you don't climb onto an erg and prepare to die. Days like today are nice.

Today, I wish I was back at Holy Cross, putting the boat in the water on Lake Quinsig. Bratton would be talking about farts or facial hair, making us laugh. Adam would be wearing sunglasses, even when the dark comes early, changing his clothes over and over between every piece, leading by example. Erick might crack a smile, briefly, before setting his mind to the task at hand, reminding us of our purpose. We would probably be waiting for Jimmy, speeding down 290 on his way from ROTC, stretching himself thin to stay a part of our little family.

Today would be one of those days I look around and feel love for my teammates, my brothers, for the boat, and the water, the feeling of the eight us pushing and pulling together, as one. Today, we would take the rating from an 18 to a 36 and stomp the shit out of our competition. We would get off the water flushed and tired and at peace. Today, we would be reminded of why we fight, why we log the long hours, why we sacrifice so much for each other. Today would be a good day.