Somehow, better late than never, but late for sure, autumn has arrived. What just a few weeks ago was shorts, unisuits, and sandals has become worn jeans, long trou and thick leather boots clomping along the sidewalk.

 It's just fall enough that you arrive early to the river, in pitch darkness and damn the boathouse heater that takes too long to kick in; longer than it takes you to warm up.

 It's just fall enough that I, the anticipatory cook is planning the Thanksgiving meal, side-by-side with coaches writing out erg workout after workout, dreading the indoor months to come.

 In ways, we prepare for the darkness and the cold, but we continue to row on until the icy edges of the river creep in toward the center, threatening to freeze our hulls right into the water.

 At times, despite our reluctance, we crave the cooler weather, shorter days and slower life; it's a break in the routine, our recharge for spring.

It's just fall enough that there is autumn ahead to enjoy; costumed rows this week, a bit of running to prepare for the Turkey Trot, a few more weeks before the boats begin to yearn for hibernation.