I am the maintainer of this blog, Rachael Gebely. Ever since I was a small child, I have been terribly klutzy. My Mom says that given an opportunity to take a clear path or a cluttered one, I would always choose the one with the most toys in the way, inevitably tumble, pick myself back up, and continue on my way. I quit dance lessons as a kindergartner because I was an awful dancer and always got stuck in the back of the line. I couldn't master the "step-ball-change" and I had the wrong color shoes (totally different story). I played soccer starting in third grade, the only goal that I can claim was in our indoor season, where I scored in my own goal due to a slick floor. I almost made a goal later in my career, but took a tumble on a breakaway right before I could get the shot off. After spraining my ankle at the end of my sophomore year in high school, I quit soccer to spend time on other interests.
During my search for college, I fell in love with Susquehanna and was drawn to crew, despite being uncoordinated and being a bit out of shape. It was something that challenged me, but that I always came back to. I can remember my first 2k test after my freshman winter break, where I went out too fast and died, posting terrible numbers (9:05). I still soldiered on, and came back to post an 8:20.0 a month later. Hitting 8:01.5 in the fall of my sophomore year, I was more determined than ever to go sub-8. It happened that Spring when I hit 7:57.1 and I was so ecstatic! The reason that I can tell you all of these numbers, is that I kept a workout log with my erg times, lifting weights, and general comments. It is something that I always encourage rowers to do.
Sub-8 (or sub 7 for guys) seemed like this special club, and with a little bit of hard work, I became a member. I lifted, I worked out, and I had a great support system (thanks to my coach, my boyfriend, and teammates) but I can't say that there was anything special I had to do to be fast. I suppose my own personal experience has led me to believe that with enough effort, anyone can be fast, and that doesn't mean living at the gym or abandoning all of your other priorities. I ended my senior year at 7:49.8 and 1.46.5 as a lightweight. Trust me, it is all about the mental toughness.
I have rowed with many different boats and in many different seats. My junior year I decided that I wanted to compete as a lightweight for Erg Armageddon and just continued on that way for the rest of my career. I like to tell people that it was the best decision that I ever made, mainly because I got to row with the most INCREDIBLE women, whom I owe so much to. The picture below is the original "Lite 8," who I feel taught me how to be a true teammate. Our erg scores were wildly varied, but we could really move a boat. I was connected to my crew and started to feel an overwhelming sense of trust and commitment like never before.
This was us racing at the 2004 Mid-Atlantic Collegiate Crew Championships. It was easily one of the most exhilarating races of my career.
We took home the gold and had recently been recognized on US Rowing's Best Lightweight Eights poll. We worked hard, but we had so much fun!
We worked hard enough to earn a new boat, Annalia. Annalia's namesake is the African Goddess of the River. She was delivered in the wrapper, with that fresh new boat smell, to Head of the Charles, where she had her inaugural row.
Racing at Head of the Charles was where I felt we finally "made it." After years of equipment malfunctions, boat disasters, being yelled at by officials, almost missing races, and so much more, it did not feel out of place to be sitting on the Charles surrounded by Ivy and Olympic crews in millions of dollars worth of equipment. We may have placed second to last, but we could not have been prouder. That was also the day that our neighborhood rival school's Mens' and Women's teams had lost their skegs in the race.
I get the impression that most people think that the races you win or the medals you collect are the most memorable. My deepest and fondest memories are these sheer seconds or moments of perfection that I have ever since been chasing. One such memory is of my Freshman four and one amazing practice were I never wanted to leave the water. The second such memory was one of the last of my career, my lightweight four in a meet against the heavies of Bucknell, Loyola, and George Mason. It was a rainy Saturday on Spring Weekend. It was damp and chilly with just enough misty rain to make gripping the oar a nightmare. I was in a mixed kind of mood that day. Our race false started and we had to row up and around the intake to restart. It just seemed like a bad omen, or a nice morning to stay in bed. Our second start was a miracle. Strong words, yes, but we jumped off the block like none other, leaving all three boats in our wake. There was just enough exposed shore for our coach (the only "Coach" I know), Brian Tomko to sprint alongside of the boat with the most enormous grin on his face just cheering us on. In the middle of the race, I had a transcendental experience, which seems too personal to share on a blog, but not unheard of in the rowing world. We ended up taking third, but this was my favorite race EVER.
The love I have for rowing and Susquehanna Crew is immeasurable.
One of the saddest things I will ever have to do was to say goodbye to rowing to attend graduate school.
The Susquehanna team was my family and crew is always a part of my life. Special thanks to Liz Remmel, Robin Atkins, Stacie Naugle, Kristen Hoar, Chris Meharg, Greg Giuntini, Pete Habercost, Brian Card, Pat Johnson, Jill "Jilly" Sands (Martin), Kathy Wulderk, Jess "J" Hibbard, Allison Bankus, Erica Garland, Erin Toenebohen (Haberkost), Alyssa Russo, Dawn Raszcewski, Katie Meyer, Kate Jensen, Ashley McConnaughhay, Sara Jane Luley (Baublitz), Coach Jim Grose, and "Coach" Brian Tomko.
We all know that the Susquehanna Crew Team likes to eat.
