My time as a professional rower (I was paid for rowing and was thus a professional) is now over and so I return to my humdrum, land-based life. Number one of my three improbable challenges (Boat Race, Marathon and CNPS - the hardes of all) is now complete and it's hard to know how to replace the boat-shaped hole that is suddenly in my life. Should I learn to parachute or fight bulls or apply to NASA to see if they'll train me to be the first comedian in space? And how would I feel if my hilarious joke about the inhabitants of Uranus led to an inter-planetary war that wiped out humanity? Slightly embarrassed, but not for long because I would then be vapourised by a ray gun and outside of that episode of Star Trek, gas has no conscience.
I think for the moment I should maybe concentrate in getting back into the routine of Marathon training that has taken a bit of a back seat over the last few weeks - only not today. My head is hurting a bit, almost certainly from the concentrating during the race; nothing to do with the pints/half pints of champagne I drank to celebrate my victory/drown my sorrows.
My brave and ballsy crew seems to be feeling the same sense of loss and confusion. I got texts, phone calls and emails from most of them telling me how happy/sad they were to have won/lost and how they couldn't stop boring their partners with a minute by minute disection of the events of the last six weeks.
Tonight I listened to the inspirational music that each team member chose and which Emma diligentally compiled and burned onto CD for us. It is an eclectic mixture of musical styles and there can be no other link between the musicians who appear on it apart from the eleven of us (Tim and Martin also chose a song). I wonder is Jonathan Aitken will listen to his CD again any time in a moment of repose. It makes me laugh to think of him having to listen to my choice, "God Save the Queen" by the Sex Pistols (not only a kicking, but it has a Thames connection as the band were arrested after playing it on the river in the summer of 77).
It is strange that shared experience is enough to bind people together, whatever their background (I suppose the fact that we all went to college in Oxford gives us some kind of link, but it's rather gratifying to see how different we all were despite that). Perhaps the solution to all world problems is to put people who oppose one another in a boat and teach them to race. And if they fail to get on at the end of it, you could always just push the boat out to sea and the problems would all disappear. You may call me a dreamer.... and I probably am the only one in this particular instance.
So the Company of the Ring go our separate ways, though I am sure we will gather together soon in some hobbit tavern with our pint/half pint tankards in our hands and recount and embellish the tales of how we either defeated Sauron or allowed evil to triumph, prosper and engulf the world.
But don't worry, The Uranians will see to Sauron if he did win.
