Gemotions

The rhythmic clack of the oars against the water was now just another sound in the background. The sight of the sun rising above the lake didn’t bring the usual pleasure. The familiar camaraderie with his teammates had lost its appeal. Everything, even the beauty of the lake, felt dim, faded. James, the team's stroke, was at the end of his tether. The coach's voice, as firm as the wood of the boat, broke the silence. "James, you're going to try sculling today."

Sculling? It was a different oar, a different technique. He felt a sudden, unwelcome jolt. The idea of unlearning everything, of adapting to a new position, felt… taxing. He didn't want to.