"SIRA."  Since the day I joined crew, I've heard the word hundreds of times.  In the beginning, it represented the denouement of the season, some far-off, hazy dream of victory.   Until it happened, however, I could never have fathomed how meaningful SIRA would be to me.  The entire experience was phenomenal.

        I have been an athlete my entire life and have played for a number of highly competitive sports teams.  Never before, though, have I seen a group of individuals come together so entirely as the Centenary Crew.  On and off the water, we push and encourage each other to be the absolute best we can be.  The five of us who shared the experience of SIRA have an amazing connection; we've sweated, bled (literally), laughed, and cried together.  The friendships and memories I have made through Crew will last a lifetime.

    Imagine being a novice rower with only six months of exposure to the sport.  In your first sprint race, you must row alongside other crews down a narrow 20-foot lane of  buoys as fast as you can.  Then imagine that this race is part of the third-largest regatta in the South, and that it is a regional championship with over 2,300 athletes, none of whom have ever heard of your school.  All you know is what your coach has told you, and you feel VERY intimidated.

         The air buzzed with electricity as we arrived at Melton Hill Lake for our first race early Saturday morning.  Looking down from the road, the shore was littered with hundreds of racing shells, trailers, rowers, and coaches.  The previous day, we had untied our oars from the top of our minivan, which was dwarfed by two black greyhound buses from Purdue.  As we rigged our lonely rented shell, we heard people talking as they passed.  "Centenary?  Who's that?"  Little did they know…

        Our race began at 7:44 am.  By 7:15, we had already run, stretched, polished the shell, rechecked the nuts and bolts, and begun our warm-up on the water.  As we slowly rowed upstream to the start line, we grew silent.  Adrenaline was pumping; hearts were racing.  Because we couldn't afford to carry any extra weight, we took one last swig of water and slowly emptied the rest into the murky green depths of the lake.  There were five teams in our heat, and only the top three would advance to the Semifinals.  At the start, the official slowly checked off the teams:  UNC…Baylor… Stetson….Cen-ten-ery…Furman.  We were so unknown, he did not even know how to pronounce our name correctly!  The red flag dropped, and oars began to fly.  As we crossed the finish line 2000 meters later, the horn sounded and we collapsed in rapturous exhaustion--we had placed third, only three seconds behind Stetson and behind UNC (ranked #22 in the nation).

        Next came the Semifinals…

        The sole club team in our heat, we competed in the Semis against four NCAA crews, all experienced and established.  This was our first sprint regatta ever!  We felt sure this would be our last race.  The top two crews would advance to the Grand Finals, the next two to the Petite Finals, and the last-place team would be finished.  Again, we rowed upstream to the start.  Again, we emptied our water bottles.  And again, the announcer called off the crews:  Centenary, Purdue, Jacksonville, Clemson (#17), Tennessee (#25).  The tension was immense.  Finally, the flag dropped and we were off!  Through a strong headwind and choppy water, we held tight behind Jacksonville.  Tennessee, in the lane to our right, was so close I could hear every move they made, and we battled many times for a leading position.  Quitting was not an option--the fight was in our blood because of the countless hours we spent  training for this event, and though our legs were burning and our arms became numb, we hung from the oars with every drive.  We pulled harder, making the shell jump ahead in the last 150 meters.  I will forever have etched in my mind the sensations of that race--the urgent commands of our tiny coxswain, the spray of water across my face, the fatigue of my lungs and every muscle in my body, the cheers of people on the shore, the bright colors flashing by me, and the feeling of euphoria born of our victory.  In the end, Centenary prevailed, taking second place in the Semifinal race of the Women's Freshman Novice Four competition.  Unbelievable!

        "Forward, Forward, Centenary," all the way to the Grand Finals…

        Sunday morning, 8:30am.  Just being in this race far surpassed our wildest dreams.  Centenary was already one of the top six teams in the South!  At the start line, our nerves were on fire.  Again we were up against Stetson, UNC, and Jacksonville, and new in the lineup sat Georgia and Rollins.  Our start was clean, and we hung with the pack.  About 250 meters into the race, just as our shell began to edge out into the lead, something snapped.  I caught a crab.  My head was spinning.  The boat came to a shuddering halt.  My oar had broken, and it could not be fixed. Refusing to give up, we finished the race with only three rowers. With tears streaming down our faces, I sobbed uncontrollably from the sheer disappointment and frustration at no longer being able to help my team.  I am extremely proud of them for persevering through the race, and I feel blessed to be part of such an amazing group.  As we returned to the bay, I saw Coach Eubanks standing on the dock awaiting us.  His only concern was for our safety.  Also, he didn't sound mad or disappointed, only proud.  From the beginning, Coach made it clear that it was not the outcome of the race that mattered to him.  All he wanted was for us to make the most of each and every stroke and leave nothing on the water.  God only knows what we could have accomplished, had we not had faulty equipment.  Now we'll never know.

        All in all, the Crew is proud of its achievement.  Placing sixth at the Southern Intercollegiate Rowing Association regatta is quite an accomplishment for such a young and inexperienced crew--not to mention the fact that we finance ourselves and practice in twenty-year-old shells.  Not only did we succeed in the race, we made a name for our school.  Go Centenary, wahoo!!!!