tension hangs in the air like a slip of the tongue,

hovering like the breath

caught in our throats

there is nothing but silence

and fear

and excitement

and us

and them

and that tension

but in a blink of the eye that tension is gone

it is replaced with pain

and expectation

and adrenaline

and doubt

and mind-numbing blankness

we are flying now and it gives us a thrill

they are even with us, but we pick up the pace

it is our turn to win

halfway through and all we can see is the path we’ve forged behind us

our minds blankly register shouting

as the water whips by,

faster every second

forty, thirty, twenty strokes left

and we’re dead even with them

power ten – all out,

we hear

…and we give it

our crew pulls across the finish line in first

and the air is filled with cries of joy

as the memory of the start’s tension flies away

like our boat from the world