Last night I went to a party with my fellow rowers at the house of one of the coaches. It was actually pretty cool. Good food, decent music, air hockey, pool and of course much of the drinky drink. I got pretty banged up. Then I walked home via the train tracks. It's really quite perfect. Plenty of places to pee, no drunk drivers or drunk walkers, and plenty of rocks to throw and/or trip over. Plus who doesn't like the thrill of possibly having a train rocket by you at 2am.
I woke up early because these same rowers were having a workout session in the park by my apartment at 9:15am. Always the early morning shit with this sport. So annoying. Anyway, I walk over and there is only one person from my boat there. She's curled up in a ball on the grass, all pale as hell and praying for death. First class hangover. Four others showed up too, all feeling rather crappy. We worked out, but it was pretty half-assed. We then went to breakfast. This seemed to go better than the exercise part.
We're going to be a dream team for sure.
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