Row Because You Love It !

(By Nicky Knowles, Cambridge Rowing Club)

Nicky Knowles & Peter Fraser at Lake Rotoiti

 I am a mediocre rower. 

There, I said it — and honestly, I’m okay with that.

Maybe it’s because I’m inherently a bit lazy at times and I lack motivation when life gets in the way perhaps? A conversation for a different time I feel

Rowing is technically a very hard sport to master, especially when you didn’t start as a nimble teenager. In theory, once you have good technique and solid fitness, you can accomplish anything. In reality, life tends to get in the way — work, ageing, niggly injuries, and all the rest of it. But there’s one thing that overrides all of that:

“Row because you love it.”

That’s my mantra. When everything else gets in the way, just get in the boat and see how it goes. It is what it is. Rowing is a bit like golf — always chasing that one perfect stroke, ideally without injuring yourself in the process.

This is my story from a recent regatta.

I was lucky enough to compete at the South Island Masters at the stunning Lake Rotoiti in Nelson Lakes National Park. Picture-perfect doesn’t even begin to cover it.

My preparation? Let’s just say… not ideal.

Between lack of training, questionable fitness, being a woman in my 50s dealing with menopause, an extra 5kg that refuses to budge, and a collection of niggly injuries (back, shoulder, calves, Achilles — take your pick), plus work stress — and yes, being a travel agent during global chaos has been a lot — I wasn’t exactly arriving in peak condition. So, my expectations were low. A participation certificate and soaking up the scenery would’ve been more than enough.

I started rowing at 42, and over the last decade my brother Peter Fraser has always made time to row in boats with me, and he and I have competed together regularly. Our results? Let’s call them… consistently average. Plenty of middle-of-the-pack finishes with no “wins” on the board together.

But this weekend, something unexpected happened.

We were part of two crews that crossed the line first.

Two gold medals. 🥇🥇

I was genuinely gobsmacked. This had never happened before. Massive thanks to Pete and the rest of the crews — and yes, maybe the old saying holds true: stick around long enough and eventually your competition retires… or dies. 😂

So you’d think that would be the highlight.

But it wasn’t and read on.

On the second day, there was a bit of reshuffling due to scratchings and last-minute changes. Our club had commitments to fill composite crews, so things got moved around, and I found myself rowing with someone new from another club.

Let’s call her R, She was a second-year rower in her 50s, had faced some health challenges, and was still building confidence in the sport. I figured we’d just head out for a relaxed paddle — no pressure, no expectations.

She was in the stroke seat and understandably nervous as we approached the start line. I tried to reassure her — nothing fancy, just the usual encouragement you’d give anyone.

Then we discovered our boat had been accidentally scratched.

Disqualified.

So instead of racing, we rowed outside the course — just a casual paddle, staying clear of buoys, enjoying the moment. No pressure. No expectations. And honestly? It was great.

We even had a slightly enthusiastic interpretation of where the finish line was, but we got there in the end. A good wee paddle. No complaints. To me, it was just another example of pitching in — helping get boats on the water, which is something I’ve always believed in. 

(and it’s in the title of this piece “Row cause you love it”)

But after the regatta, I received this message from her coach:

“Please give Nicky special thanks for rowing, supporting, and her kindness to R. She really appreciated it. R needs a lot of confidence and support, as she feels she holds people back as a newbie amongst experienced crews. Having a stranger support her like Nicky did meant a lot.”

That message hit me hard, made me a bit teary.

Because what felt like a small, throwaway moment to me clearly meant something much bigger to someone else. And it’s a reminder: you never really know what’s going on in someone else’s world.

The gym I go to has a philosophy:

“Consistency is key. More than nothing. Progress, not perfection. Get fit, live life, be strong.”

That middle part — more than nothing, Progress, not perfection — really sticks with me.

And I hope R keeps rowing. If she’s still around for the South Islands in the Deep South in 2027, I’d happily jump in a boat with her again.

So what’s the takeaways here? 

Firstly, somehow those two gold medals I’ve always coveted — finally sharing that win with my big brother, which I am incredibly proud of us for achieving — have taken a back seat to that race with R. It reminded me that being completely focused on the prize isn’t always what real life is about. The real win — the one that actually matters — is helping and supporting others to “progress, not perfection.” That, in itself, is still a very valid reason to row… so they love it too.

Secondly, rowing clubs — like many environments — tend to attract strong A-type personalities. Competitive, driven, focused. That’s great… but sometimes people need a reminder that giving a bit of time and energy to others matters too. Because while coming first is important, you still need participants like me — and rowers like R — to make those wins possible in the first place.

A small gesture can make a massive difference.

And in the long run, it lifts everyone.

So yeah — I’m still a mediocre rower.

But I show up.

And most importantly…

I row because I love it.