What If I Did? The Question That Changes Everything
In May 2023, I attended an Ocean Survival course while visiting the UK. I attended the Row Aurora school. It was a daring experience as I was and am quite overweight. However, I have been reading books and blogs, listening to podcasts and watching YouTube for over ten years, learning everything I possibly can about doing an ocean row. While attending the course in the UK, I met some extraordinary young people who have rowed an ocean or many; Jack rowed the Atlantic with his team Marduk in the World's Toughest Row in December of 2023 and Jenny and Anna, who completed the Pacific crossing, in June 2024.
I have been studying, reading, and watching everything about ocean rowing for years, but 2023 was the first time I had the guts to attend a course. There is a lot that I have to learn. Plus, I need to lose weight and get into reasonable shape. I had originally set a date for a row leaving in Dec 2026. However, fear got hold of me, and I withdrew, only to be drawn to it again in 2024 when Anna and Jenny were selling their boat. I was excited about the possibility again. However, there were no longer any openings for 2026.
I had taken the necessary courses to position myself to row an ocean. The courses consisted of ocean navigation, radio communication, first aid, and survival. Part of the course was done in a large pool with lifeboats, and that was the first time I was faced with something I was unable to do; I was not able to get into the lifeboat under my own strength. I was too overweight and not strong enough to pull myself out of the water and into the boat.
This inability set a benchmark for me to achieve this great feat of getting into a boat. However - ooops, there's that word again! Fear often whispers "however" into the history of our lives. It plants doubts, creates obstacles, and convinces me that exploring the unknown is too risky. I have to recognize that fear is not necessarily a full stop—it can be a pause, a comma, or a moment to consider. It’s easy to let the "however" hold me back, to retreat into the safety of what I know. I can only move forward when I acknowledge fear without letting it rule me. I don't even think it is fear; I call it impractical; it's not the right time; I'm too old to do this.
It’s okay to feel afraid; it means I'm stepping into growth, into uncharted territory. The "however" can be rewritten as "and yet"—a bridge to courage, resilience, and the incredible possibilities waiting beyond my hesitation.
As I sit with the question, What if I did? I feel a spark of something I haven’t felt in a while—a quiet sense of possibility. What if I stopped letting fear write my story? What if I trusted myself enough to take the leap, even without knowing how it ended? This question isn’t just about what I might achieve but who I might become in the process. What if I did? Feels like a dare, a challenge to live fully, to embrace the unknown, and to see where courage might lead me. And as I let this question take root, I realize it’s not about having all the answers—it’s about being brave enough to ask.
I signed up to do a solo run of the Atlantic in 2026, but fear crept in, and I withdrew. Then, the opportunity to purchase a boat came up, and I thought I had another chance of rowing in 2027. Should I purchase the boat, practice in Lake Ontario, or tow it behind my van and practice in many locations?
What If I Did?
